The Mouse in My Car

Okay, so on Tuesday I went out to my car and noticed an odd smell. No big deal there must be something left behind by the kids in the car somewhere. So I look around and find a milk container. Surely that was the culprit, then went about my day.

After a wonderful experience watching Harry Potter, I ran to a retail store, and the smell was still there. Okay, fine, I didn't find it. I was in the store maybe 30 minutes and by the time I got back out to the car the smell was overwhelming. Okay...fine I call C and he comes down stairs and we begin to clean out the little bit of mess in the car. Still the smell is there. So C pulls up the mat in the front and we found mouse droppings, well damn.

What is it about the Malibu that the mice like? This makes our second mousey visitor. C pulls the panels from around the console and we found a little mouse nest and upon vacuuming it all out and getting the car back together, the smell was still there.

I ran it up to Lamb's and told him my trouble. He went out and sniffed about in the car and said, yup, something has died in there, but I can't help you tonight, I close in an hour. Crap.

So this morning, I took my sad smelly car to Lamb's. They pulled off the panels, took out the seat, took off the door, and sniffed their way to where they thought he might be. Using a camera scope, they found the dead little mouse in... get this, the door frame.

Not the door panel, or the a/c box, or a duct, but in the actual metal frame tube that the car is built around. You know the only metal, save the engine, in my car? The only way to get to dead mouse...cutting the frame open, clean him out and weld it back together.

Enter the insurance company. Thank you, hubby for insisting we have the most comprehensive coverage you can get on a car, sure it's a little expensive, but they are going to pay to take care of what has now been declared a health hazard and provide a rental car and I'm only out fifty bucks.


Yeah...so now I'm going to have dead decaying thing sitting in the frame of my car until Monday when the insurance claims guy goes out and inspects the car, then they will find the best solution for getting out the freaking health hazard, and then... I'll get my sad stinky car back.

*sigh*

Birthday Ponderings

Wanted: One time machine, capable of sending me back in time to inhabit myself 13 years ago, armed with the knowledge I have now.

But Sarah, why would you want to go back?

Ah, because I would make such DIFFERENT choices. I would spend more time watching my children sleep, and sliding down the yellow plastic slide at the park and reading that extra story, and I would have started K on meds a full year earlier. I would have taken more pictures and spent that extra hour at the park even though I was tired and ready to go home, but they weren't. I would have listened to my husbands advice sooner, and been more willing to admit he was right.

Of course there are things I would do the same. I would still vaccinate my children, and I would still have taken time to sleep in on Saturdays and I would still let them climb to the top, even though I was so sure they were going to fall and break an arm. I would still rock them to sleep, and sit bleary-eyed in the doorway of their room listening to them breath as they struggled through the croup. I would still pester their teachers with questions that every mom wants to ask and sometimes never does.

But then again...

I wouldn't have the children I have now. They would be different and I rather like who they are. Even when I have to cut gum out of K's hair or pay the extra $125.00 on my phone bill B racked up using the internet, though maybe I'd have disable the internet from the get go...

Still, I love the crazy mixed up girls in my life and I'm so glad to have celebrated another year of their lives with them.

Strange Rudeness

So let me set the scene for you. I had a bunch of errands to run today and one of them was a quick stop at Hobby Lobby to get some flag paper for Katie's Veteran's Day poster. I get what I need and go stand in the line of six people at the only open register. *sigh*

As I'm standing there, the lady behind me strikes up a conversation. Not an unusual occurrence and I am not bothered by talking to strangers in the store as we all wait in line to buy our things. This conversation took the strangest turn...

Her, small thin, older lady with gray hair going white. "That's pretty paper. 4th of July scrapbook page?"

Me: "Oh, no, I'm helping my daughter make a poster of family and friends that are veterans."

Her: "That's nice. How old is your daughter?"

Me: "Almost nine. Her birthday is this Friday."

Her: "Oh that's nice. Is she your only child?"

Ok, now don't get me wrong, so far this is all innocuous and I have nothing to hide and I'm very proud of my children, and I like to humor old people, because frankly I hope young people will humor me when I'm old.

Me: "No, I have another daughter, she just turned twelve."

At this, the woman's eyes narrowed a bit, and she took in my brown peasant top, ripped jeans, battered converse all stars, tie-dye hair band (the only one I could find, thank you very much) and her eyes stopped on my bare left hand. At this point I got a bit uncomfortable. I have always worried in the back of my mind that people, complete strangers, judge me based on my age and the age of my children and my lack of wedding ring. I don't wear one, because I lost it and haven't gotten around to replacing the thing yet.

Her: "Honey, how old are you?"

All I could do was blink. She looked like a sweet grandma. And to my own astonishment I freaking answered her. "Thirty-one." Not a number I'm ashamed of in the least, I'm quite proud to be 31 and enjoy my life and the gifts I have been given.

That seemed to offend her sensibilities when she did the math in her head. She put her hand on my arm, looked me in my baffled eyes and said, I kid you not, "You need to get married and settle down honey. But then I don't know a man in his right mind that would take such a wayward girl with half grown children."

I'm sorry, what? Wait, did she just say that to me? Really? I stood there dumbfounded. There wasn't anyone in line behind her and the woman in front of me, I think, pretended not to hear, and I was saved from saying something horrible to this nice looking old lady by another cashier walking up and calling her from the line. I paid for my four sheets of scrapbook paper, and went to sit in my car. Mostly I was and am just offended. It's none of her business if I'm married or not. Or how old I was when I chose to bring life into this world.

Honestly, did she think she was doing me a service by voicing her backward opinion? I don't really want to know. Though I think I will make time to go get a new wedding band this weekend.

See it only took 35 days to get things back in order

So, hi. Miss me? Nah, I didn't think so. I won't make excuses for myself. I will say that things got hairy here in Sarah Town and I needed the time off from well, everything. I have not blogged, message boarded, written a short story, worked on my novel, or played WOW in 35 days. Did I miss it? Yup. Am I back to daily updates? Nope. Am I glad I did it? You better believe it.

Next time I take a hiatus, I'm including Facebook and Yahoo! News, and I'm only answering email via my phone. Because email is just too damned impossible to go on hiatus from email.

I enjoyed the extra time with the girls, and with Husband. I missed them, missed sitting curled up on the bed with hot chocolate and watching a "scary" movie. (In our house, Where the Wild Things Are, Hocus Pocus, and The Haunted Mansion are scary movies) I enjoyed that special bonding time my whole family seemed to have needed. So needless to day I'll not be picking the computer back up every evening. I will however carve out some time two or three times a week for me to blog, write and other wonderfully creative things.


So on to what prompted me to blog again.

You see we are moving. The when of it is still very much up in the air, but the fact of it it real. We've bantered about it for years, but really, it's time. The girls need more space, our crap needs more space, I want a kitchen island and sliding glass shower doors. Can't have those in a 1100 square foot 2 bedroom apartment.

In the process of readying our home for the inevitable move, Husband decided to clean things. One of those things is our closet, a.k.a. the catch-all. In the very very back of the closet in this unusable space corner we tucked the boxes of stuff we want to keep but have no place to display or store in such a tiny apartment. So Husband decided to start with them. Among them was a small slightly battered old white paper box, simple marked Sarah in my Grandma Rose's handwriting. It was things she placed in a box for me just after I moved out of her home. I remember when she gave it to me. It was when I lived in that little loft off Cooper Street.

I never opened that box. Never. I just carted it with me from apartment to apartment for the last 13 years. It just got moved and stuck in the back of each closet. Never opened, never explored. Why? I didn't want to be sad. I didn't want to know what she thought I needed to have with me. I was hoping she's put a letter in it and I wanted to save it for when I was older and could be sentimental about the thoughts in it.

Well, Husband decided it was time to open it. I cried. He pulled out his pocket knife, the old tape didn't need much coaxing and open came the box. It held no letter. I cried again. Instead I found a greeting card my sister had given me with "Everything I need to know, I learned from my English Teacher" (a popular form of sentiment in the 90's) on it, some books, a pair of socks, my junior high school year books, a few utility bill type papers, an old check register, some random pictures, and a Bible. A very lovely old brown Bible. I was perplexed. It wasn't mine. I didn't recognize it. So we flipped through it. It belongs to my uncle.

I have no idea why she put that Bible in there, or if she even knew it belonged to my uncle. It may have been stashed in the bottom of the dresser I used while living with my grandparents, that had also belonged to the same uncle when he was growing up. It might have been on a top closet shelf, for the very same reason, my room was once his room. Or it might have been a sentiment of her's, maybe she was hoping it would protect me as I journeyed through this life. I don't know. My grandma passed away almost ten years ago. I still miss her.

I put the Bible in the mail today, sending it back to its original owner. I wonder if he knew it was missing.

Something else I worry over...

You know we all worry about how messed up our kids are going to be, but I think it begins to take on an entirely different meaning when you have a child with special needs. Though I'm not sure that K's needs are all that special in the grand scheme of things. Especially when I see other children who are not as high functioning as she is, and have the same troubles.

Anyway, my point here is I wondered again today how messed up I've already made my kids. I mean I know the goal is to raise them, so that they are independent and -want- to leave, but do I do that to the detriment of their mental health and further more, what is healthy? I know each person has their own definition of healthy, and happy, and normal, but do or rather will my kids fit with in the acceptable parameters of normal?

I don't worry so much about B, though I have realized in the last week that I cling a little too tightly and she really really needs me to let go. I mean really let go, not pretend to let go and then follow along behind her hiding in the bushes. She's already figured out who she is, well in so much as an 11 year old can figure that out. She smart, funny, has a knack for finding the engaging in any situation, loves fully, expresses emotion with passion, and knows what she wants to be when she grows up. I've been informed, by the way, that she wants to go to NYU. Good luck, baby, that's all I have to say about that.

Then, we turn our heads and look down K's road, and that is when I really start to worry. Will she ever be able to live on her own? Will I be her guardian until I no longer have my own faculties? Do I have what it takes to see her through until she can take care of herself? And damn it, will she ever learn to put her dishes in the sink?

I don't know, and that scares the bejeezus out of me. I know, I've got a full ten years left before she's even old enough to go off to college, that should be plenty of time, right? I like to tell myself that she'll be so used to medications and such, that she'll stay on her meds, but that doesn't mean that she will. I like to tell myself that she will have caught up to herself and be developmentally 18, when she's chronologically 18, but that doesn't mean that she will. But to be frank, one of us on this team has to remain optimistic, or that kid simply doesn't have a chance.

Bet that as it may, I am determined that by the end of this week she will be putting her dishes in the sink after each meal, with out being told to do so. And my insistance on such a thing, is going to make it so that when she is on her own, her dishes will never make it to the sink again...

Look out 3rd and 6th grade here we come!

Well it's official, we're ready for school to start! The girls have met their teachers, K got the 3rd grade teacher we were hoping for. We took all of K's supplies up to open house and they are waiting in her desk, at the very front of the class, yes folks she picked that spot, and she wants me to iron her dress for the first day of school, "I know you don't iron all that great Mommy, but just try a little, okay?" Sure honey anything for you.

B has all of her supplies, the right ones now, and they are all neatly tucked into her messenger bag, along with her gym clothes, and little toiletries bag with deodorant and a hair brush and gym shoes. They don't turn in their supplies until the second day of school, but she's taking hers in and putting them in her locker. The only thing left to get is a pair of ballet flats that she can wear with everything.

On the one hand I am so ready for them to go to school I can't see straight. Between the bickering and the fighting and the sometimes all out hostility between them, I want very much for their happy little butts to be in school and doing something productive.

On the other hand, I don't think I'm emotionally ready for this school year. I have to say I'm going to be a freaking basket case of tears when those two little monkeys walk into their separate school buildings and go off to their new big worlds.

"Because being a 3rd grader means you're one of the big kids Mommy, and you don't have to sit with the baby kinders anymore."

Beautifully Distracting

I love clouds. I could spend hours staring at the sky, and I am blessed to live in a place where the sky is huge, open and perfectly unbroken. I would say about 90% of all photographs that I take include the sky or unusual clouds.

I love that I can drive to and from work, all 28 miles round trip, and see the beautiful handiwork of God. I have an almost irresistible temptation to take pictures of the clouds every day, but I don't. It's not really safe. And for those of you who follow me on facebook, then you've seen the times I've given into the temptation and taken the pictures. The most recent was the day it rained and half the sky was all dark and ominous with this square of sunshine through the clouds and the other half was big bright fluffy clouds and sun shine. It was gloriously beautiful and I had to take pictures.

The only change I would make to this whole thing would be a view of the sky at work, but then again... if I had one I wouldn't be doing much work.

And I truly believe that God is an artist and he uses the sky to express His incredible love for us and the world He created.

Falcon Camp

Today B went to Falcon Camp. They have one for all incoming 6th graders at all the various middle schools and it serves as their orientation. They get a tour of the school, are assigned lockers, shown where their "Registration Rooms" are, given text books to put in said lockers, and they go over the general school rules and dress code. Then they finish the day by giving the kids ice cream sundaes before we come pick them up and try to get them to eat lunch.

Beth gets in the car, with a sigh (I was five minutes late, but she wasn't the last on there.)

"So how was it?"

"Good. I got a bottom locker." This is said with a grimace and another sigh. "And they insisted on calling me (her full name which spell check hates) all day. I kept correcting people and they wouldn't let me correct it on my name tag."

I gave her little knee a pat. "Don't worry, the first day of school will be the same way. You'll have to correct everyone then as well."

I got one of those head bobble, shoulder shrug, I guess you're right gestures.

"So other than the locker bummer and the name thing, how'd it go?"

"Good, I saw a -lot- of my friends I haven't seen since like Kindergarten and some from second grade when I was at Cypress. And mom, they're all so much bigger, but still look the same. They said I look the same too. And no one laughed at my shoes."

"Why would they laugh at your shoes?"

"I don't know, I just worried about it, since they're all glitter and rainbows."

"I should think it wouldn't matter."

"Yeah. Oh! and they said they worked it out so that there's no way the seventh and eighth graders can pick on us, except at lunch."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, all the seventh and eighth graders are on the second floor and the sixth grade is on the first floor, but our lunches over lap a little."

"I patted her knee again. I don't think you'll have any trouble, unless you are rude on purpose."

Though I don't think she'll have any trouble even if she is really. The kids here are just different than most kids. Our area is um...not lacking for money, and neither is our district. So most of these kids are raised to not bully and their parents take it seriously, not to mention the district is pretty strict about it. So the majority of the students in these schools have been raised with a standard that is exacting, clearly stated, and fully enforced.

She's excited, and is really happy that her first class every day is Math 6- PACE- Pre-AP. Nothing like starting your day with your favorite subject and ending it with your second favorite, Language Arts 6- Pre-AP. I just hope she remembers to sleep at night...

Feeling Bunny-ish

Did you ever get the feeling you should be doing a way better job at your current occupation?

Dictionary.com defines occupation as any activity in which a person is engaged. So anything you are doing when you are doing it is your occupation.

So with that definition in mind, I, from time to time, get a feeling I could be doing way better at said occupation. Confused yet? Yeah me to.

Any-hoo, I shall give you an example. The current occupation I am lacking in at the moment is the teaching of my youngest child to tie her shoes. Not such a big deal you say... How old were you when you could tie your shoes? Five maybe six, possibly seven at the latest. I know I had the task mastered by the time I began kindergarten. I will say that it is mostly my doing that she doesn't know how to tie them. We have after all, avoided tieing shoes for as long as possible, but really unless I want my child wearing zstraps to college, I'm going to have to teach her this life skill.

So we have been working on this over the summer. Going with the bunny ears method for the time being. Earlier today we sat down with a shoe each and began to practice this and K, being K, needed to chatter.

"Did you know that shoe strings have bunny ears because they need to hear other people coming, and when you tie their ears in a knot, they hear so much better. Know why? Because it's like those big ugly hunting dogs you, know like that one in Lady and the Tramp. Yeah like that one, and oh, thanks mom a blood hound. Shoes are like blood hounds, their ears hang low to trap sound better.

Do your ears hang low to the bobble to and fro?
Can you tie the in a knot can you tie them in a bow?
Can you throw them over your shoulder like a compatenal soldier?
Do your ears hand low?

But when you untie your shoes, and take them off it's okay they don't have ears anymore, because since you don't have them on they don't have to protect your feet. Mommy, when I go to school for third grade my feet will need to be protected. Cause third grade kids like to step on your feet. So I'm glad I'm learning this. Hey Mommy, I'm hungry do you think we could have some carrots. I'm feeling a little bunny-ish so I want some carrots."


Yeah, she still doesn't know how to tie her shoes yet...

Jeremiah was a Bullfrog

Well actually he was a toad, and he was in my car.

Recently after it had rained for a couple of days the girls and I were off to do...um something, and I had sent them down to the car while I talked with their dad for a moment. As we're talking, K comes bursting through the garage door.

"Mom! There's a frog in your car!"

I turned and looked at her, "What?"

"There's a frog in your car."

I looked at C and said, "I guess I'll talk to you later, I need to go see about a frog."

He laughed and I went down stairs. But Sarah, why were you not paniced and flying down the stairs to find out what manner of horrific creature was in your lovely car? Well, it's like this. God knew I couldn't raise boys with out turning them into pansies or wrapping them in bubble wrap, but that I could raise a tomboy just fine. So he gave me girls, once more girly than I know what to do with and the other a ninja princess.

I have been waiting for the day when it was my turn to pull something that was once alive out of a pocket as I do the laundry or to rescue a hapless slimey thing from a place it doesn't belong. You see, as a child my poor mother probably pulled innumerable once alive creatures from my pockets and I know I brought home a frog or two. And K is very much an animal lover and also a I-must-touch-this-icky-thing kind of kid, so it was only a matter of time. I was a bit surprised it took us eight years.

"K how did the frog get in the car?"

"I put him there." Ah.

"K you can't pick up frogs or any other animals. It could have been poisonous."

"But poisonous frogs are bright colored, this one is all brown. And he was by the garage door."

"It doesn't matter, and that's only in the rain forest. In Texas they don't always shout their poison status with bright colors."

I shook my head and opened the door to the back seat. And there Mr. Frog sat happy as can be on the seat belt buckle. With a small sigh, I scooped him up and put him in the palm of my hand. He was not a frog. He was a tiny little mud toad. I looked down at K.

"That's not a frog."

"Yes it is Mommy."

"No it's not."

"What is it?"

"A toad."

"What! How do you know, you only just looked at it."

"Well, I've held a few in my day and learned in school about the differences in frogs and toads." Which I then briefly explained.

"Wow Mommy, you sure know a lot of stuff. What kind of toad is it. Do toads hop like frogs? Can we keep it?"

"A tree or mud toad and some do, and no we can't"

She pouted for a moment and then brightened a bit. "So that means it's not poisonous."

"Not necessarily. It could still be, which is why we'll go wash our hands after we put him in the mud."

In all this petting and handling, the little toad, remained very calm and just sat on my hand. "K you may pet him once more and say good bye."

She did and I walked around our building and bent to put him in a nice patch of mud. I must have moved too fast for him then, because he finally peed on me. I said a couple words I won't repeat here.

"What happened Mommy, did he bite you?"

"No! He peed on me."

This was met with peels of laughter from both girls. We trooped up the stairs, washed our hands and headed back to the car. Once there, the inevitable came.

"Why did he pee on you?"

I started to explain, but once I said the word urine followed by another word she didn't know, acrid, she was off in her own little world. She really didn't want to hear about why frogs pee when they're scared.

Conversations on Cupcakes

We stopped at Hey Cupcake, our first time, to give it a try. I'm not saying they were bad, but I'm not sure they were worth 2.75 and I know I could make better icing.

So K gets her red velvet with cream cheese icing, and takes a big lick of the icing. "Mommy this doesn't taste like yours."

Aw... "It's better." Bummer. She makes it about half way through and then promptly deposits it on her dresser. Why I have no idea, but that is where I found it.

"Do you want me to save this for you?"

"Yeah, that would be fine. I liked it." My mother-in-law gave K these great little cupcake savers that are plastic replicas of cupcakes for storing a single cupcake each. I stuck her half eaten cake in one and put it in the fridge.

Rewind to B. "Here's your cupcake B."

"Thanks Mom." She takes a bite and quips. "Oh, wow they're chocolate chips in here. You should put chocolate chips in your chocolate cake."

Ok they say this stuff like I bake often and don't know what I'm doing. Seriously.

The Husband Unit didn't want his, being full from dinner and I put it in the other cupcake holder. A couple hours later he pulled it out and the top half had stuck in the top of the holder. I laughed, he grumped, I laughed some more. He ate his cupcake with a fork.

I eat baked goods in a certain way and this disturbs most of those around me. Cupcakes are eaten from the top down, icing first, then the part above the paper then the part in the paper. In pinched off chunks. This is a very messy way to eat cupcakes, but is my favorite.

I make 007 envious.

I know this because of the sheer number of hidey holes, compartments and storage places in my car. Recently I detailed my car and cleaned up the mess my children had made in the back seat, in the process of this I cleaned out the hidey holes.

I found:

A packet of caramel dipping sauce
6 crayons, melted and paper less
4 pennies
A nickle
7 Pencils
A packet of tissues
A CD jewel case
4 napkins
3 used flossers and
A straw


I wondered what McGyver would be able to make with all of that stuff. But mostly I was glad that the clorox wipes pulled the melted crayons off the plastic of the car door. I also wondered how my kids had been closing the car door with all that crap in the little rectangles they were supposed to be using.

Also, how in the world did that much popcorn get in the car?

The Woosh Woosh Machine

K came to wake me up this morning. Not an unusual occurrence in and of itself, because I happen to like to sleep and since my kids are old enough to handle the first hour or two in the morning alone. I let them. However, the conversation we had upon my waking still has me chuckling.

I have black out curtains in my bedroom, because out windows face east and the sun is really bright in Texas, so it's fairly dark in my bedroom all of the time. So K comes in, and stands at the side of my bed. I have no idea how long she stood there, and usually just a body standing and staring at me will wake me up, but it didn't this morning.

"Mom...mom." This is whispered and I wrinkled my nose and opened sleepy eyes at her.

"What is it honey?"

"Um, do you know how to turn off the thing?"

I turned my head a little and gave her a look. "What thing?"

"The thing in the living room making the noise."

I sit up a little and listen, perplexed. I hear the fan, the tv and someone outside. "Honey, what noise?"

"That woooooosh wooooooosh noise. Can't you hear it?"

"No, baby, I don't hear anything unusual."

"But Mommy, it's really bothering me and I can't figure out how to turn it off."

At this point I'm thinking good grief what has this child turned on that she can't get off and why can't I hear it. I'm torn, I want to just go shut it off for her, but I also want to know what it is she's talking about. And since I'm still half asleep, I really don't want to get out of bed quite yet.

"K describe for me what thing is making the noise."

"I did! It's all wooooooosh woooooosh."

"Yes, yes I know what it sounds like, but what does the noisemaker look like?"

"Oh, um...hang on." She runs out of the room, and then runs back in.

"It's this tall." She holds her hand to about mid chest. "And white and has buttons on top and goes wooooooooosh wooooooosh."

Okay there is only one thing in our living room that fits that description, but it doesn't woosh woosh it just has a soft steady hum. "Baby, are you talking about the air filter?"

"Yes! How do you turn it off?"

"Well, -you- don't, but why is it going woosh woosh."

"Oh! I was putting my ear to it and moving away over and over and I was trying to get it to make a different noise so I pushed a button on top and then it got louder and now it hurts my ear when I push it against it."

I clamped my teeth together and just looked at her. Took a deep breath and said. "Little girl, don't put your ear to the air filter. I'll come turn it down when I get out there."

She left and I lost it. Man I love that kid.

Tummy Troubles

Disclaimer: The stuff that follows deals with my digestive system and might be a bit TMI for some.

So around about the 8th I got a chest cold, which I still have the cough from, and shortly after that, I started burping, like all day long, it even woke me up at night a couple times. After three days of the constant burping, I called to get an appointment, which they didn't have anything available until today.

Between then and now, I developed a stomach ache that was constant, just a 2 or 3 on the pain scale, but enough that it was bothersome since it was non-stop, and along with the ache, came nausea, fatigue and bloating.

So the tummy doc did the usual ask ninety billion questions, then mashed on my tummy, listened to my heart and breathing, and then prescribed an increase in the medication I already take, a anti-nausea medication, and the removal of soda, tea and dairy from my diet for the next month.

I can only hope it works. I'm tired.

She also ordered blood work, to check liver and endocrine function, hemoglobin, and they're going to do some kind of smear test thing where they put a bit of my plasma in several different trays and a bit of the red blood cells in other trays and then let them hang out in different environments to see if anything grows. I'm kind of worried about those particular tests. They also made me pee in a cup...so not my favorite.

For those interested, a year ago I had a endoscopy in which they repaired an esphogial hernia, and inflated a little balloon thing in the upper portion of my esophogaus in order to make it easier to swallow, and did something with a tiny little ulcer just above the top of where my stomach acid stops, that I've had for like ever. They also did a colonoscopy and removed a polyp. So I'm no stranger to tummy troubles, but I've been free of them for almost a year now and it's annoying for them to be back.

She Said What?

For those of you that have spent any time with my husband and I then you know that our relationship revolves around good natured teasing, pestering and the occasional insult. For my part of this, I spend a lot of time fending off the tickle monster, screaming, and smacking him upside the head.

From time to time, this disturbs K. We've talked about it and it seems she thinks Daddy is hurting me and I need rescuing. I've assured her that he in fact not hurting me and I don't need rescuing. to which she promptly replies.

"I could hurt him, if you let me."

Then a bit of pouting and "No really I could. I'm strong, and it would hurt. I know you can't hurt him cause you hit like a girl, but Mommy, I could cause I don't hit like a girl."

"You don't? What do you hit like."

Her brow crinkled a bit. "Well, not a boy, cause I'm not a boy, but defintitely not like a girl. But I am a girl. Hmm, I know! I hit like an awesome girl. Yeah, and awesome girl."

"So, I'm not awesome?"

"Not really, but Mommy that's because you hit like a regular girl, all weak."

"I do?"

"Yeah, but only cause you've never been a Vampire Spider Queen, a Pirate Princess, and a Ninja Warrior Girl."

"Yeah you're right."

She pat me on the shoulder. "But you know I could hurt him if you let me."

I nodded and then held my chuckle until she walked away. Honestly, what do you say to that?

A Most Elegant Tea Party

K and I had a wonderful Tea Party last week. This was our table after K set it. We had chocolate chip cookies, rice crispy treats, white chocolate macadamia nut cookies, croissant rolls with butter and jam, oranges and bananas.

We dressed in fun dresses and wore boas, it was so much fun pretending to be so sophisticated!

K had the best table manners! Please pass the cream, dear.

Yummy tea! K had orange spice, and I stuck with chamomile.

After our tea we had a dance party with stuffed animals, much silliness ensued.

This was a lot of fun, we spent over an hour drinking tea and asking each other questions we could give outrageous answers to. My favorite question of the day:

K: What are you most afraid of?

Me: Oh, triangles. I don't like triangles.

K, with a truly puzzled look on her face: How can you be afraid of triangles, they're just triangles.

Me: Yes, but they only have three sides...that's just not right.

K: Mommy, I think you went a little overboard there.

The Worry Monster

I find it interesting that I spend so much of my time worrying. A devotion that I read recently talked about worry, and how it comes between us and God's plans for us. I was worrying again this morning about a financial situation that in the grand scheme of things won't hurt us. As I stopped, took a deep breath and *gasp* prayed. A particular bit of scripture came to mind.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." It is a verse I've clung to from time to time when things are dark, and it doesn't look like the light is ever going to switch on again. I know that those are usually the times I'm not trusting in God enough and so I turn to him in prayer and he has a way of nudging me with truths.

I calmed down, took the verse to heart, and went on. As I walked into the jumping place (our name for the indoor inflatables playground) today, there sitting on their counter is a lovely little plaque with that verse. I looked up and went "Okay, Okay, don't hit me over the head with it!"

So as I'm sitting here in the jumping place, slightly bored out of my mind I decided to look up the verse. Oh, how much I have missed not reading this entire thing! It goes onto read:

"Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile." Jeremiah 29:11-14

Aren't those some of the most encouraging words you could read? I know He's talking to the elders, priests and prophets in exhile in Babylon with Nebuchadnezzar, but I think that God in His infinite wisdom directed men to write the words and stories so that we can read them today and know that God loves his people, watches out for them, and keeps his promises.

I know that I'm going to be okay, and when I close my eyes and say, "Take this from me, it's just bigger than me." He'll take it and help me find my way through the mire.

What I learned today: I have -got- to stop worrying.

Tea Party Shopping

K and I had so much fun shopping for tea party things yesterday! We started on Saturday at Target, and found absolutely nothing that we liked, so we tried Kohl's and once more there was a big fat zero. So we had dinner and went home.

Yesterday I drove all the way out to Bed Bath and Beyond at 360 and 183 and we found a white porcelin tea pot for a whopping $16.23 with tax. As we're leaving I remembered one of my friends talking about the tea party she was throwing for her little girl's fourth birthday and how she'd gone to thrift stores to get every child their own fancy tea cup. So I thought, well there is a Goodwill on the way back home, let's stop there.

Oh my goodness, there is absolutely no rhyme or reason to the stacks of stuff on those shelves other than, "dishes," "glasses," "kitchen ware." etc... So K and I spent the better part of half and hour scouring the shelves in that section. We laughed, and joked and found three fancy tea cup and saucer sets, three little plates, three little bowls, a serving plate, a cream and sugar set, a butter dish, a fancy little decorative tea pot and joy of all joys a white porcelin tea pot. We made it to the register and paid $17.36 including tax for all of it.

As we drove back to Bed Bath and Beyond to return the first tea pot, K and I had a great conversation about recycling, buying things used, and finding ways to save money and still get exactly what you want.

I can't wait for Thursday when I get to wear my blue feather boa, and drink tea out of my floweredy tea cup.


What I learned: I often forget to go look at places like Goodwill, the Salvation Army and the church based thrift stores in our area. We have a lot of those kinds of stores, and I hope I can remember that for the next time I need something and buying it used makes so much more sense.

The Newest Food Issue.

K, my 8 year old, is currently medicated to help her control the symptoms of bi-polar disorder. One of these medications is a stimulant for the ADHD component of this. One of the sad side effects is that it suppresses her appetite. As a result of this, is she has lost sixteen and a half pounds over the last ten months. If you've done the math that's 1.65 pounds a month, and when you're barely 50 inches tall that's a whole lot of weight to lose.

She's just a few pounds away from being considered underweight and thus being taken off her medication. So now we have to increase her caloric intake in a way that is healthy and does not make an issue out of food. She already has a strained relationship with the stuff, and this is sadly only making things worse.

With the Sensory Processing Disorder she was diagnosed with at a four, she has a difficult time with food smells and textures, that limits her dietary options, and on top of all that we have her on a mostly GFCF diet. It seems to me the odds are stacked against the poor kid.

So then we have to figure out how to increase the calories in the small amounts of food we can get her to eat. I am open to any suggestions any of you might have. We did change her yogurt from regular to greek style, and we have relented on the rice milk and give her whole cow's milk. She drinks a protein shake every day, and I try to give her calorie dense foods at each meal.

But she is still losing weight. Any help any of you might have would be awesome.

~S

VBS Wrap-Up

Yup. I know VBS was over four days ago, but what can I say I'm a slacker. :D

So, how was VBS?!? I was asked this question a lot on Sunday and since I was running around like the headless chicken, I was unable to say more than. "Really great!" And because I find that unsatisfactory, I shall answer more thoroughly now.

We had a few more than 175 children and around 50 (give or take) volunteers, come and enjoy our High Seas Expetidition! Of those approx. 75 children and 25 adults were in my charge for the week. I can not begin to thank our volunteers enough. The words, thank you for sharing yourself with these children, seem so small compared to how I grateful I am. The children, oh the sweet sweet babies, were so excited to come to "school" every day and learn all about God's word, sing songs, eat yummy snacks, and play on the playground. So many happy smiling faces came through our doors each day, and it made my heart sing to see each and every one of them.

I told you guys about our mission project, well our little ones, both elementary aged and preschool, brought in over $460.00 for Heifer International. With this money we bought a water buffalo, a goat, a trio of rabbits, a flock of ducks, a flock of chicks and a flock of geese. The kids were really excited to know they would be helping children in other countries obtain the food they would need and grow up to be strong and healthy.

Now all that's left is to finish sorting out the supplies, and get everything stored away for next year, returned to those who donated large items, or send it on to another church in our area using the same theme.

Then we can start planning for next June. Yup, we start planning this soon. ;)

Can I ask you something?

As the time when I will be spending my days with my girls, keeping them entertained and myself sane, I have questions for you my readers. I'm hoping that I can get some great ideas from you guys, that I can use during our summer.


1.) What are you doing this summer?

2.) What are your favorite summer time activities?

3.) Are there things you do only in the summer, just like at Christmas or Easter?

4.) What is your favorite summer food?

5.)What color do you paint your nails (finger or toes) during the summer?

6.) What book are you reading right now?


~~~

I guess I should answer the questions too, huh? :)

1.) I'm just planning on hanging out with the girls. B starts middle school in the fall and I am fully aware of how little time she will be spending with us once that happens, so I'm looking forward to spending all the time I can with her.

2.) I love, love the free movies our local theaters offer every year. It's a great cheap way to get out of the house and maybe see something on the big screen that we missed when it was out the first time.

3.) The only thing I can think of for this is swimming...huh, kinda sad about that.

4.) Watermelon! I love summer fruits, especially fresh ripe watermelon.

5.) Usually something bright, like a light green, or purple. Right now, however they are the same royal purple as our VBS shirts.

6.) I'm reading "Try and Make Me!" By Ray Levy and Bill O'Hanlon.

Can -you- drive there?

This week is Vacation Bible School at my church. I mostly spend my time, as the preschool co-director, running about answering questions, fetching things, holding crying little ones, collecting paper work and anything else that needs doing. I love this and know I'm doing something important so that 70+ preschoolers can have a safe and happy experience learning about God.

Today on one of my collecting things errands, I was gathering the offering the children brought in. One savvy little girl asked. "Why are you taking our money?"

"Well," I said, "I'm gathering the offering so that it can be counted."

"Then what will you do with it?"

"Oh, it's very exciting. We are going to buy cows and those cows will go to families in Africa." Here I was thinking, yup that should explain enough to this four year old. She'll think that's cool and go on.. Oh no, not this youngster.

"Will we drive to Africa?"

Blink...blink... "Oh, well no. You see we give this money to a great organization called Heifer International." She gets a puzzled look on her face and opens her mouth. "Heifer means cow." The puzzlement leaves and I smiled. "And these great people, take this money, the money you brought, and they buy cows and give them to families in Africa, and those families use the cows to help run their farms."

"So, we don't get to go to Africa?"

"No, honey I'm sorry we don't."

"Oh, well, that's ok."

And she went back to her coloring. I was struck by this little girl's curiosity, and her willingness to go to Africa to give the families their cows. I'm sure she doesn't know where Africa is, but she was perfectly happy to pick out cows and drive them there.

I had explained this to the children yesterday, but I'm not sure it really sank in for her until today, but I'm glad I had that unique opportunity to once more share what the children are doing to help other boys and girls in our world.

Each year we have a mission project that we get the kids fired up for, sharing with them how much money they've brought in and what it will buy and what that means to the boys and girls we help.

So far our kids have purchased two flocks of chicks and half a goat. Our goal for the week is a Water Buffalo, mostly because we're sailing on a High Seas Adventure, and it's the only animal even remotely connected with water that Heifer International provides. That and Larry the Cucumber sings an awesome song about water buffalo...

Mommy Moment: 5th Grade "Graduation"

Today I had several of them. Well really they started last night, when I was lying in bed going over my schedule for the next day. It was then that it really hit me that we have two days of school left and that the little ceremony would be in the morning.

In my children's school they do not have graduations, as they feel the children do not graduate until the end of twelfth grade. So it is called a Learning Celebration. Whatever they want to call it, it is still that heart wrenching moment as a mom when you watch your child move through a milestone.

So, all through the slide show I held it together! Then they started calling names;


I started to get misty, but I held it together.


Then B's name was called!



I got a little misty again, and again held it together.


She recieved her certificate and stopped for a photo:




After the ceremony she recieved her "graduation" gift:




At this point I choked up, but kept the tears in check. (You can't see them, but there are earrings that match)

She's such a little lady! I am so very proud of my girl and I'm scared and worried for her. I know though that she is as prepared as she can be for this next stage of her life.

Now if we can just make sure she keeps her sense of modesty...


Then I went from this to buying teacher gifts and I lost it in the middle of the greeting card section at Family Christian Store.

School's Out for the Summer! *sings badly*

Ah, the summer. I love the summer. Most people think I'm an odd duck when I say that. I do not like winter; I do not like to be cold, shivery, and achy. I also don't like to sweat, but I'd much rather sweat than shiver.

But the start of the summer is a bit bitter sweet for me. It is the start of time with my kids and hubby and a few good books, but also the end to another school year. The latest set of graduating fours leaves us for Kindergarten, and all the walls in the school are bare.

But, I have the next eight glorious weeks off, and I plan to use them fully!


What I learned today: Do not move furniture around in the school and then go do push-backs in the pool...it makes your arms, back and abs hurt way more than they should.

Special Days

I was talking with some friends at church and as usual conversation lead to why our children were dictating our plans. It is the joy of a parent to work their lives around their children's needs and I don't begrudge them that time. I mentioned that I was leaving just after church because K was having a special morning and I needed to go rescue Daddy.

Another mom said, she liked that term as it was a much more positive way to look at those rough mornings. I have to give credit where it is due. One of the teachers at my preschool uses that term for one of her more challenging students, when he is having a particularly difficult day.

I adopted it. :D K, is an internalizer and you never know when what you say to her is going to come out slightly skewed and self-deprecating. I do not use the words stupid, bad, or dumb, as K will take those words and turn them against herself. I will tell her she's done something wrong, made a choice I don't like or the like.

I try really hard to make sure that if I am talking to or about her, she doesn't hear something that will make her feel bad about herself. Self esteem even in little ones, is fragile and easily broken, and like Humpty Dumpty difficult to put back together.

So, I say, enjoy your special days, and remember that tomorrow will be better.

The Snake

Ok so, I was walking home with the girls today, and we saw a snake. It was a cool little garter snake guy and K about peed herself waiting for Daddy to get home from jury duty so she could tell him all about the snake she saw first and how cool he was and how he had a black stripe down his back and he followed along beside us on the other side of the fence, for like about a hundred feet, well when the cement wall came and we couldn't see him no more, but I bet he followed us still. He was so neat, and then I saw a lizard in the thingy that holds the thingy for the gate to open. It was gray and had stripes and spots and he turned his head and looked at me. Oh and Daddy I saw the dead bird, did you know he had brown feathers and I think something tried to eat it, but it must have tasted bad because it was still mostly there. And did you know tomorrow is field day and I'm going to wear a skort so I can run and jump and play, but teacher says I have to wear my tennis shoes. I think that's a good idea because I don't want to kick a ball with bare toes in sandals. Mommy gave us frozen meals for dinner, and I wanted the bug sprinkles but not the meal they were in so B traded me the bug sprinkles for my popping sprinkles, bug sprinkles are really good. Ok, bye Daddy.


Poor Daddy, just stood there trying really hard to follow everything she was saying, and by the end he'd given up on holding in the laughter and was openly chuckling. He patted her on the head and said "Nice to see you too K."

I think Daddy should get called to jury duty more often, or maybe I should walk to pick up the kids more often so that K can see more snakes and tell Daddy all about them.

I'm just sayin...

I'm bothered by something and because I'm not really seeking advice, but I need to talk about it, I decided to blog. This has become my journal, so it seems appropriate.

In the interest of keeping private affairs private I will not give huge detail here, but the gist of the back story is that my mom and I have some issues that we've not really worked out and they sort of came to a head at Christmas. I then did what my therapist suggested and wrote my mom a letter, one that was meant for sending, and was sent. I do know she got the letter, but beyond that I have no idea.

So, I struggled for a long time about how or if I should acknowledge my mom on Mother's Day. What would be the best thing? Do I let this holiday pass pretending nothing is wrong and send the obligatory gift and mushy card? Or do I not send anything at all? I took the time to talk with my girlfriends and between them and my personal prayer life I chose to send my mom a card.

It wasn't a gushy, thanks for always being there, gosh I love you so much card. But rather an I'm praying for you, and I hope that this was a good day for you kind of card. Honestly I din't expect anything back from her, not a card or a call or anything, so when I opened my email Sunday afternoon and found a very short email from my mom.

I really don't know how I feel about it and I don't want to know how I should feel about it, but honestly I'm bothered by it. Why? I have no idea, but there it is.

Ok so there I said my peace. Thanks for listening.



What I learned today: I palm mute my G and B strings when I strum a G/F# I have to stop doing that. :)

Happy Mother's Day!

I was encouraged to write a Mother's Day blog. What does one write on Mother's Day? Do I write about my mom or about being a mommy? So I share my childhood or my motherhood? I had thought perhaps to share the birth stories of my little monkey faces, because with out them I wouldn't be a mommy, but then I decided that that much TMI makes me a bit squicky. So I decided to troll the internet for a poem and I found one that fits my feelings perfectly.

Before I was a Mom
Author Unknown

Before I was a Mom -
I slept as late as I wanted and never worried about how late I got into bed. I brushed my hair and my teeth everyday.

Before I was a Mom -
I cleaned my house each day. I never tripped over toys or forgot words to a lullaby. I didn't worry whether or not my plants were poisonous. I never thought about immunizations.

Before I was a Mom -
I had never been puked on - Pooped on - Spit on - Chewed on, or Peed on. I had complete control of my mind and My thoughts. I slept all night.

Before I was a Mom -
I never held down a screaming child so that doctors could do tests...or give shots. I never looked into teary eyes and cried. I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin. I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.

Before I was a Mom -
I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn't want to put it down. I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I couldn't stop the hurt. I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much. I never knew that I could love someone so much. I never knew I would love being a Mom.

Before I was a Mom -
I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body. I didn't know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby. I didn't know that bond between a mother and her child. I didn't know that something so small could make me feel so important.

Before I was a Mom -
I had never gotten up in the middle of the night every 10 minutes to make sure all was okay. I had never known The warmth, The joy, The love, The heartache, The wonderment or the satisfaction of being a Mom. I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much before I was a Mom.







Mother's Day swag: Several hand made cards and drawings, a cute Hoops and Yoyo Queen of Mothers card, a gift card to Barnes and Noble, and a gift card to Torrid. I lubs my kids and their patient father who took them shopping.

Friendship for Grown-Ups by Lisa Whelchel

I finally finished this book, so here is the review. :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This book is about Lisa's journey through figuring out what it means to have deep personal friendships. She shares what it is like to break down your walls and to truly know and be known by another human being, through and by Grace. She gives a glimpse into what it was like for her to give up the easy mask of happiness, and to ask another person to accept her bumps, bruises, warts and all.

Lisa is a fabulous writer and has a wit about her that I found fun and interesting. However, she is incredibly vague most of the time and while I am not so much interested in the tiny details, I would very much have liked to know more so that my understanding was complete. I do understand that she was vague on purpose in order to protect the hearts of those she wrote about, but she was also the same with herself. She shared little vignettes of her life, but nothing that helped me to really see her journey.

However, that does not make this book a loss in any way. There is some very practical advice and she shares some very interesting things about why we need deep intimate friendships with other women, and how to make sure that these are safe friends and what a safe person looks like. All in all it wasn't a bad book, but I was left feeling disconnected from her in the end.

http://booksneeze.com/blogger/resources/9781400202775

Round 287... Ding! Ding! Ding!

There are days when I'm never quite certain how I got to the point I'm at. It is never fun to find yourself sitting on the edge of your bed in a shouting match with your child, only to realize you are not winning and no amount of shouting is going to change that. Then you remember that it isn't about winning it is about breaking the bad habit in the first place.

K has lived her very short life in a sort of state of flux. Her moods never being the same from one hour to the next and it made life difficult for all of us. During those first five years, we let a lot of behaviors go that in B we stopped sort. It was easier to give in than listen to hours of screaming.

However, K has been on meds for 9 months, and her moods are quite stable, and her activity level is even and normal for a girl her age. For the most part. This has lead us to discover some very unattractive learned behaviors that we must now change. One of these is a hair-trigger temper that is expressed with high pitched screaming, stomping and a great deal of prolonged just-for-sympathy crying.

Her therapist has given us a tool to help negate this behavior, and I must admit it is not my favorite tool ever. K usually does this tantrum-y behavior after being told no, not specifically the word no, but more a you can't do what you want, because you must do as I say kind of a no. So, our tool is to state what is expected, allow her to question once, state what is expected again. If she chooses to question or goes into tantrum mode, I'm supposed to say "K you are not taking no for an answer and we will not discuss this further, go to your room."

So far this has equaled, a great deal of "What? I cant even speak now?" kind of screamed retort. For clarification, a scream is when it is so loud and so high pitched that it is physically painful, and yelling/shouting is just a raising of voices from normal conversation level to they can hear every word we say in the other room. Back to K...

I am supposed to not talk with her again until she has calmed and completed my request. That is not an easy thing when you have a child sitting on her bed screeching into her pillow or making a loud humming-crying noise so that you will come in and talk to her. Though I will admit that length of time for this noise has shortened considerably.

I have also found that I do not always remember to use this technique, and that is when I find myself in the aforementioned shouting match.

I think that if K had not been inclined to the brain development issues she has, then we would have on our hands a child which leans toward the dramatic in all that she does. One that is incredible canny, and often devious. Who learned and uses the art of manipulation early and well, and has one of the sweetest most giving hearts I have ever met... Oh wait, we have that, only we just found her in the last nine months. I wonder what our lives would have been like if only my sweet sweet baby had started talking as a toddler instead of waiting until she was just a little past her third birthday.



**For those unfamiliar, K, my youngest and 8 years old, was diagnosed with Bi-polar Disorder, Sensory Processing Disorder, ADHD and Dysgraphia (like Dyslexia only with writing instead of reading) at the ripe old age of four. She is currently receiving Occupational Therapy, Physical Therapy, play and talk therapy, and we see a psychiatrist who closely monitors the mood stabilizers and stimulants she currently takes. It took nearly failing the 1st grade for us to give into the last resort of chemically altering her brain chemistry and I will admit I feel a small pang of maternal guilt each time I open those pill bottles and shake those two white circles and that long blue oval into her hand.**

What I've Learned since chopping up the bunny...

A week that starts out great has no guarantees of ending that way.

A Sinus infection is in fact contagious.

I do not like the smell of new plastic.

Using wine to help wash away a bad week now equals a "hangover" the next morning.

Not everyone will respond well to my personality, that's okay I'm not perfect and I'm not going to change myself just because you don't like me.

I do not have to be liked by everyone to do my job well and to be the best person I can be.

I am really bad at budgeting. I have been pretending for years that I am great at it, but the reality is I am not.

I do not like hard truths that come in threes, they suck donkey balls.

My children desperately want to start swimming. I wonder if they will tire of the pool before September.

I need to buy new sunscreen, mine actually expired.

Kit Kats come in dark chocolate, milk chocolate and white chocolate varieties and you can buy the miniature size of all three in one bag.

I can sleep until ten, get all of the chores done I want to and still be tired at 9:30 and want to go to sleep, but I can't because we bought a new video game and you need me to play it with you or you won't be able to get past this boss. But honey it's 12:30 and I just want to go to bed now. Please?

Mother's day shopping with my children is an adventure.

Chocolate therapy doesn't cure everything, but it sure does help get you through the little things from time to time.

And finally,

Spilling olive oil on your garage floor is not awesome sauce and requires that you drive to wal-mart and purchase a giant bag of kitty litter. The good news is that non clumping store brand litter costs two dollars for the most giant bag ever.

What to do when you run out of chocolate chips.

Chop up a chocolate bunny.

The end.






PS. This is not the blog post I was writing when I fell asleep. This is way better.

Random Objects

I have discovered in the course of trying to make the house presentable for the fire sprinkler inspection that my bedroom is made up of a bunch of random objects.

As I look out across the room, I see a tote full of books, the back half of the Bow Flex bench, a stack of CDs Rock Band guitars, art portfolios, the lid to a tote we might still own, suit cases, a game board we don't have pieces for, a laundry basket, a yoga mat.

I could go on, but I'm boring myself. Oh! There is a pink plastic playground ball in here too. It just seems like all of these things should have a place, other than my bedroom. But in searching for a place for them, my bedroom is where they end up. I'm worried that as I begin to pack and get ready to move into a larger apartment, I will not be able to find a better place for them and I'll be stuck with a pink plastic ball in my room forever.

My Favorite Things

As I was driving to work today that weird commercial that uses a messed up version of "My Favorite Things" to advertise shampoo or something, came on and it I started to think about some of my favorite things. I'm going to be all ambitious and write a version of the song with my favorite things, but I'm not sure if that will work.

With out further ado; My Favorite Things according to Sarah.

Jeans from the dryer o'er freshly shaved legs
The first sip of coffe and perfect fried eggs
The smell of the grass when it's cut in the spring
These are a few of my favorite things

Perfect guitar chords and a brand new pedi
The laughter of children and dinner that's ready
The joy that I get when I stand up and sing
These are a few of my favorite things

Sharp knives in my kitchen and red ripe tomatoes
The green of the trees and fire baked potatoes
The way that the light plays on my wedding ring
These are a few of my favorite things

When the night's short
When my head hurts
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Holy freaking crap that was really hard. What I thought would be a ten minute thing turned into an hour long ordeal. Rhyming is really really hard.

So any way, that's my version of My Favorite Things. =)

What I learned: It is hard to rewrite songs, but that I have a lot in my life to be thankful for.

Free Stuff!

I just got my first book from Book Sneeze. I really haven't figured out yet why they call it that, but whatever... Free Books! Woo! I recieved "Friendship for Gown-ups" By Lisa Whelchel, you know Blair from Facts of Life...

Anywho I've read the first chapter and so far it is shaping up to be a good book.





*disclaimer* The government regulator dealy requires that any blogger that receives free materials for promotional use, must state where they got it from, provide linkage to the giver peoples and submit a review for the product on a real selling stuff website. So yea! I get to be all "mur I read this book and it was crap, don't waste your money," or "Wee! so glad I read this it was awesometastic!"

Hilarious TMI

When it is late at night things can get kind of silly here in our bedroom. We turn out the lights and chat quietly just before sleep each night and if it is after 11 then things get silly. I was laughing so hard last night, that I felt the need to share. And as an FYI it is a little TMI so if you get squicky about girlie plumbing issues, you might want to not read on.

Ok, so we were talking about our kids and how B is a bit of a wuss when it comes to anything concerning pain or discomfort, and K really just rationalizes through it all, bucks up and gets the job done. Which lead to me saying "I do not envy B's gynecologist at her first pelvic exam." Which reminded me, "Hey do you think it's been five years since they took out my plumbing?"

C: How should I know? Don't they keep a record?

Me: Well yeah, but I like to be prepared. Because five years post op they do an ultrasound to make sure your doing ok and that no endometriosis is present.

C: Oh, um ok.

Me: Yeah, cause they want to make sure that your ovaries are where they belong.

C: Right because they wander?

Me: Well, at my last yearly, the doctor couldn't find one of mine. She figured it had drifted behind my intestines. Isn't that awesome?

C: So it's an exploratory ovary?

Me: Um yes, I have a transient ovary. (at this point I'm laughing exponentially more than this is actually funny) Oh, no I have a hobo ovary.

C: Does it have a little stick with a napkin tied to it? And when it's done wandering, do you think it will go and have a picnic with the other ovary. Or maybe it's the other kind of hobo and it will use its stick and shank the other one, take its place, assume its identity, while disposing of the dead on in the wasteland of your intestines.

Me: (laughing hysterically) Wait. What?

Much repeating of the last bit said and not being able to breath from laughing so hard, ensued. Then,

Me: You know she told me that while they were in there they tacked my ovaries to the top of my bladder. My bladder has enough trouble with out freeloading ovaries riding on it.

C: They're like little barnacles riding nature's port-a-potty. Wandering hobo ovaries, that attach themselves to their own personal camp ground with a built in latrine.

At this point I completely lost it, and once I gained control, it was nearly midnight:

Me: Oh dude, my face feels like I've been crying for like half an hour.

C: I'm just that good.

I took my felt-like-I-just-cried-for-half-an-hour face and through tiny giggles and snorts, passed out.

What a Brain Hiccup Looks Like.

I know I told you at the beginning that I would not regale you with my many adventures in Azeroth, but somethings must be shared regardless of their venue.

So in World of Warcraft they send you on quests where you have to collect, kill or explore stuff. One such quest requires killing this bothersome pig. Ok, I know that right after I kill this guy, he's going to come back so some other poor schmuck can kill him too. But my brain sort of hiccuped on this information.

I was all "Woo I killed the pig and didn't die or half die in the process." I turned in my quest and galloped off on my giant tiger that serves as my horse, and there he was. My brain went "nrrrrr, must kill pig!" I have no idea why but I pushed my little buttons and cast my little spells at him and he died and I was all "Woo hoo! I did it." Off I go to work on another quest. I finish gathering all the pieces to that one and head back to town and there is the pig again.

Again my brain went "what!?! He lived!?! Nrrrrr, must kill pig." And once more I pushed my little buttons and cast my little spells and Mr. Piggy died. "Woo! I got him this time!"

It was at this point I realized what I had done and that it was 5:30 and I needed to make dinner. As I was pulling the stuff from the pantry, I wondered what it was about that pig that my brain couldn't wrap around. Honestly I still don't know.

I called B into the kitchen and had her do the dreaded job of opening the cans of vegetables for the soup I was making while I boned the rotisserie chicken. As I'm chopping up the cooked chicken, I realized that this is my favorite part of being Chief Cook and Bottle Washer.

I love chopping, dicing, slicing, it is a great sort of physical outlet to the crap stored up in my brain. I let it out on the poor unsuspecting bits of vegetable, fruit, or meat upon my cutting board. Disturbing? Yes, a bit. True for most people? I'm pretty sure.

Yeah, so that was a tiny look into the odd side of my brain. Sorry, but really it needed to be said.

Ah, Saturdays...

Saturdays are one of my favorite days. They have a sort of busy laziness about them. We spend part of the day cleaning, doing dishes and laundry, and the sweep/mop/dust thing, but the majority of the day is spent lazily laying about doing a great deal of nothing.

Occasionally we take a trip to the park or the mall or something, but for the most part we stay holed up in our tiny apartment sequestered from the world. I enjoy these days, spending some of my day with one child or the other or both curled up beside me as we watch a movie, or watching them master the art of putting a shirt on a hanger.

It is the one day of the week the girls generally don't argue or bicker as they are free to do what they wish, either together or apart and are perfectly content to do so.

Which is why you get a Saturday blog about absolutely nothing. Lovely, no?

Sundays on the other hand are a completely different story.

A Day in the Life of a Slacker Mom...

I am a total slacker. I am only a little ashamed to admit this. Ok, maybe more than a little, but I can still hold my head up so it counts.

I give you this revelation, after a rather interesting day doing mostly nothing. I know there are days when work is slow, and Fridays are especially like that, but sometimes it makes me feel incredibly lazy when my day passed with labeling books, checking facebook, installing a new printer, checking facebook, watching our photographer's little girl, folding t-shirts, checking facebook, helping our DCE hang paper anchors printed with items needed for VBS, checking facebook, eating lunch, chating with parents, closing down for the day, and heading home.

I stopped at home, picked up my defective brand new George Foreman grill and returned it to Target. Picked up K from school, went to HEB, returned to the school to wait over half an hour for B to finish dance auditions for the Spring musical. Upon arriving home, I did a minimal clean up in the bathroom, started some laundry and then curled up on the bed with the laptop and you guessed it facebook. *laughs*

Yup, total slacker. Or maybe I'm a facebook addict...

The Great Outdoors

I went camping. Not a monumental thing I know, but it is if you know me. I am not an outdoorsy person. I wasn't raised that way, believe me. We camped often and I spent my days out of doors, coming in only when I was called.

However, I've become a bit of a priss. I do not like to be dirty, touch dirty things nor be outside. I like my nature in nice neat packages called play parks, my favorite is the one with wifi, or perhaps on a nice restaurant patio. I do not enjoy peeing outside, hiking, fishing, sleeping on the ground, bugs, etc...

Or so I thought. I had the best time. I'm sure that the company on the trip made a huge difference in how much I enjoyed myself. We went with a group of families from our Sunday School. The girls had so very much fun playing with their Sunday School friends, hiking, fishing, and jumping into what must have been the freezing waters of the cove. They sat around their first campfire, that was not in a backyard, ate burned marshmallows between chocolate and graham crackers, and slept on the ground for the first time.

I went hiking, watched my girls fish, and had the joy of eating grilled burgers and hot dogs and sitting around a camp fire while the kids played a safe distance away. I did not sleep on the ground, I slept on an air mattress, but I do wish I'd brought a second blanket. I woke to the sound of birds playing in the trees, and had camp coffee.

I'd forgotten just how amazing nature is, and how much I love the world God made and how relaxing it can be.

It is amazing the things from our childhood we leave behind as an adult thinking that we don't or won't enjoy them anymore.

I Can Cook!

Very well actually, though my innate clumsiness often ruins my big plans. Meh, c'est la vie!

So tonight I decided to get creative in the kitchen and once more came up with an awesome recipe that I just had to share!

I don't know what to call this dish, but if my family's praise is any indication I will be making it again. To make this fabulous dish you will need:

Approx. 1.25 lbs of firm white fish, I used tilapia
1 jar of your favorite citrus marinade for fish (I use Citrus Fin and Feather)
10-15 Kalamata Olives from the olive bar at your local grocery store
1 fist-sized ball of fresh mozzarella
1 package Buttoni Angel Hair Pasta
Olive oil

Marinade fish for at least one to four hours over night is better.
At dinner time, bring 4 quarts of water to a boil. As that is coming to a boil, heat a large skillet over medium heat, add a small amount of olive oil. Place fish in pan, let sear for one minute, then add half of your marinading liquid to the pan. Cover.

Meanwhile, chop the olives, the food processor works best for this, six quick pulses and you're done. Cut the mozzarella into 1/2 in cubes. Drop pasta into boiling water. Boil for one minute. Remove fish from heat.

Drain pasta, and place into a serving bowl, drizzle with olive oil, toss to coat. Toss in mozzarella and olives.

Place a serving of pasta on a plate, place a serving of fish over the pasta. Serve with bread and a salad.


Enjoy! And let me know what you think if you try it out!


What I learned today: If you do not want the mozzarella to melt do not mix it with the pasta in the pan you cooked it in.

New Digs!

A big gigantical thanks to my sister the writer of Our New Life, *points to the pretty button on the side* for redesigning my blog!

I am a huge fan of the color green and she did a fabulous job using it!

And yes, those are my toes...

and my awesometastic sandals. [:D

Allergies

Allergies are a funny thing...ok not funny like omg that's hilarious, but funny like hmm something is not right here. They affect each of us differently, some of us worse than others, but they are never fun. I have only ever had a mild case of allergies during the spring, mostly my issues are in the fall during mountain cedar season. However this past week the oak began to bloom, and pollen from this tree has been riding the air in green/yellow clouds.

Most of the girls are work are affected in some way by this horrible pollution of our precious air, some much more worse that others. This is my first time feeling this hideous when the spring trees bloom. I think my Zyrtec is over powered this time.

*sigh*

Stumbling Block

When is the time to look at something in your life that you don't like and change it? Do you wait until you just can't take it any more or do you nip it in the bud from day one? I ask myself this question a lot, not because there are a lot of things in my life I don't like, but because I want to be a better me.

I also ask myself if there are things that I am doing that may be a stumbling block to someone I love and if so what can I do about that? Is there a simple fix, like "defriending" someone on Facebook, so that my loved one isn't faced with a past memory that haunts them, or does this require more from me. Such as changing the way I communicate with someone close to me.

Do I need to worry about these things at all?

Yes, yes I do. Scripture tells us not to be a stumbling block for another, making sure our actions do not cause another to sin. That's heavy stuff if you ask me. I don't know if Paul was intending this to go outside of eating idol sacrifices, but what I do know is that I can apply his words to my life. I think it's hard sometimes to look at something you are doing, and know that it is causing someone else to slip and fall. You then yourself struggle with guilt, remorse and often times anger because now you have to change how you behave.

ooh, excuse me *steps down off her soap box*

I find myself in an introspective place at the moment, some from reading my sister's blog, some from an epiphany I had at work today. Each morning I come in to work and my Director and I exchange good mornings and I ask how she is and she asks how I am. Usually she tells me fine, and I...well I'm more detailed and I realized today that I complain a lot about my life. I seem to find myself wrapped up and bothered by the little things. So I decided just then that the next time she asks me that I will say two positive things first and only one negative, then follow that up with one more positive. I truly don't wish to be the stumbling block that causes my co-workers to have a bad day or for their thoughts to turn negative because of my attitude toward my own life.

Wish me luck!

~Sarah

The Gluten Nazi

As you know my youngest daughter was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder and so we try our best to keep her diet as gluten free as possible. This is a very difficult task as she is a carb-aholic. I scrutinize every label for every product I buy. I search out and have found some really great products and some really awful products.

There are times when I feel like a bit of an ogre when she asks for something and I have to say no, because it has way too much gluten in it for her to consume. So I've taken to calling myself the Gluten Nazi.

For those of you with children who or you yourself have a wheat allergy, are on a GFCF diet, or have celiac disease know what I am talking about. I will say that I am not as diligent as I could be and probably should be and I always appreciate new ideas and solutions to this particular issue in our life.

My sister shared a website with me for gluten free products and I thought this would be a great time to share it and some other websites I use.

Be Free For Me is a site for coupons for people with gluten and other food allergies

The GFCF Diet is a great resource for recipes, products, community support and other things for the parent with a child on the GFCF diet.

The Gluten-Free Trading Company has a plethora of gluten free products for just about anything you could want gluten free.

The GFCF Cookbook has some really great recipes for everything from pancakes to soup.

Stranger Danger

What does that really mean? I tell my kids often not to talk to strangers, don't tell them your name, don't engage in conversation, and never ever ever go anywhere with anyone you don't know. But then I turn around and talk to strangers, engage them with conversation, the only rule I follow is not going anywhere with them.

What message is this sending my children? Should I not talk to the other moms at the park, just to live by those rules I've given my children? Should I never speak to the checker at the grocery store. Do I not answer my phone when it displays an unknown number?

Obviously I can't refrain from those conversations, but then how do I lead by example? Where is the line here? Honestly I don't know.

I write this because I am sitting an indoor playground, you know one of those places with ten different bounce houses, this particular one has a foam blocks pit for the kids to jump and dive into. K was in the pit and had hurt herself, and asked another mom to find me. The mom, said she'd be happy to call me if K knew my cell phone number, this happens to be the only phone number she does know, since we have 3, and K rattled the numbers off and the mom called me.

Was this a violation of don't talk to strangers or adhering to if you need help find a mommy or a person in uniform? I'm not really sure, mostly I just feel uncomfortable that the mom asked my daughter for my cell phone number. I would much rather she'd asked K my name and called that out into the big open air that is this place.

Perhaps I am being over protective, this mom really was just trying to help, but it seems to me that if we want to teach our children to be cautious of strangers, then this is not the best way to do that. But then I am left with this dilemma... If I make her scared of strangers, will she become withdrawn and never speak to anyone? If I allow her to speak with everyone not worrying about it, will I lose my baby to an enterprising kidnapper? Where is the balance here?


What I learned today: Nothing really, just a lot of questions and that my daughter's philosophy of "There are no strangers, only friends I haven't met yet," scares the crap out of me.

The School Lunch Revolution

I am appaled as I sit here and write this post. I stumbled upon the blog Fed Up With Lunch: The School Lunch Project and began to read. I was so fascinated that I started from the very beginning and read through today's post. It is unreal what her school's cafeteria is serving the children and calling nutritional.

What is it in those lunches that they consider 1/3 of a child's daily nutrition. Is a fruit cup really considered a serving of fruit and do those little ketchup packages stand in for their second serving of vegetables?

It makes me very glad that the lunches my children are served at least look smell and taste like real food and they are offered several vegetable and fruit choices. When I have eaten lunch with my girls, I have noticed that most of the children have at least one of those veggies and one of those fruits on their tray with their main dish choice and their carton of 1% milk.

So I have done some more digging and I found Jamie Oliver's Food Revelution. If you have children of school age, I urge you to visit both of the websites and get involved to the best of your ability.

I can only hope that we can cause our government to really look and see what it is that these school districts are feedin gour children and calling it nutrition.


What I learned today: All children, not just my own need advocates, we need to fight for what they are learning and give them the tools to make good food choices, especially when they only receive that teaching at school.

awwww

I recently took the profile questionnaire for the 5 Love Languages and discovered, unsurprisingly that my love language is Physical Touch supported by Words of Affirmation. That simply means that I feel loved when I am touched, a pat on the shoulder, a hand on the back, that sort of thing makes me feel acknowledged and loved. But an encouraging word will do the same.

Today I was asked to work with the 2's class as their teacher had an appointment this morning. One does not expect much from 2's beyond getting to each place and having fun while we are there. In this class the little girls are very girlie and come dressed to the 9's, well for a 2 year old. Today they all happened to be wearing hair bands. One had a large pink flower, another a smaller pink flower surrounded by feathers and jewels and the other little girl's had a big pink with black polka-dots bow on it. I told them how pretty their hair bands were. One of the girls said "You're wearing a hair band too, we all are."

I said, "yes, but mine isn't as fancy as yours is."

She tilted her head to the side, crinkled up her nose and studied me for a moment. "It's a little fancy, so you still look pretty Ms. Sarah."

My heart just melted. She wanted to make sure that I felt included in the all pretty girls wear hair bands circle they had going. It was not said to gain anything from me, or to change my mind on something, but to make me feel as loved as she felt in that moment.

How amazing that children can understand that the people around them feel the things they do, with out prompting or discussion. That little girls intrinsically know that we all just want to feel pretty, especially when the sky is cloudy and gray.

What I learned today: Kids can sometimes be the most life affirming things on the planet.


For more information on the 5 Love Languages visit: http://www.5lovelanguages.com/

Crazy Little Thing Called Temptation

I do not resist temptation well. Case in point, I have a little glass fish candy dish, (thank you for the sweet birthday gift B,) sitting on my desk full of miniature version of several different candy bars. I have this as a ministry to my staff. Because when you work with 9 small children from 9 different families with 9 different parenting philosophies, you need a chocolate fix every once in a while.

I usually buy a mix that has very little of what I enjoy eating, but this time I bought the Hershey's miniatures, and I happen to love all but the dark chocolate ones, so I find myself pulling a piece out of the fish's mouth several times a day. I rationalize this with, it's just one little piece it won't ruin all the hard work I'm doing to try and get myself to a healthy weight so that I can look into corrective surgery for my shoulder.

I have on many occasions tried to remove caffeine from my diet and I find that it is all I think about, over and over and over...man I need a coke, I could use some caffeine. This does not just apply to food, but to other things in my life as well.

I am tempted each and every morning to stay in bed, just five more minutes which usually turns into 9 (you know when the snooze goes off again). The same is said for stopping for coffee, though I can prevent that most times by being in the wrong traffic lane for turning into the H-E-B that houses my favorite coffee shop.

But what did you learn today, you ask? Ah, today I learned that I can in fact resist the most insidious of temptations, goofing off. I left work early so that I could be with my kids while my husband attended a meeting via webcam conferencing. (They stayed home from school due to fever.) And what I really wanted to do was lay down in bed and chill with my handy dandy laptop. I even came into the room, plugged in the machine and pushed the little button.

As I sat and waited for it to boot up, it occurred to me that I would not be home during my usual chore time tonight due to praise band rehearsal. So I sent the machine back to sleep, after a bit of an inner debate over what I needed to do and wanted to do, and went into the kitchen. I got all the dishes washed, swept and swiffered the floor, and started a load of laundry. It felt good to get those chores done. When I was finished it was time to take the girls to the doctor. While there, instead of playing silly clicky games, I got half a chapter in my novel written.

I'm actually quite proud of my choices today. :D

A New Skill

I do not like to be uncomfortable. But then who does? I am not very good at asking for help or for someone to do something for me. Nor am I very enamored with the idea of approaching complete strangers to do this asking.

With that being said, I am finding that I am in fact better at this than I believed. My preschool is holding a silent auction and it is my job to procure items for this auction. I have had to step outside my comfort zone and ask complete strangers for money, in a fashion.

Thus far I have been rather successful with this endeavor. Though I am still not enamored with doing it, I do have a better confidence in my ability to do so. I can in fact walk into a business and tell them my name and why I am there and ask them to donate to our school.

My heart still beats fast, and I have to take several deep breaths before opening that door, but I can and I have and it is wonderful to know that I can still learn a new skill.

The Rare and Elusive Things

I posted on Facebook the other day how it would be really cool to get actual snow in Austin. So I did a little research and according to the Austin American Statesman, we have gotten snow a total of six times in the last ten years with the highest amount on Valentines Day 2004 with a whopping 1.6 inches. The rest of the days were barely measurable amounts of .1 and .4 inches.

The most snow ever dumped on Austin was 9.7 inches on November 22 and 23 1937. So, it is safe to say that it just doesn't snow in Austin. Though I did delight in the joy the children of my work place had in the light flurries we had in December. The squeals and giggles that ensued are a heart memory I will always have.

Of course this got me thinking about other things, which invariably happens as my mind wanders...a lot. What other things in life do I experience rarely and yet revel in the joy they bring?

I think the most elusive of the rare is time to myself. Oh sure I spend forty minutes each day commuting to and from work, but I'm not really able to enjoy that time alone as I'm concerned with all the wack-a-doos on the road with me. Though the upside is that when it's not raining or unbearably cold out I get to roll the windows down and blast whatever music I'm in the mood for. Not too long ago, I had Mondays until the children got home from school to myself and I was incredibly spoiled to them. I would clean, sew, read, get pedicures, or watch crappy daytime television. All of those things I would do if I was still a stay at home mom while my kids are in school. Though honestly, I am glad I work, because after a while, I'd be really bored with my own company.

Another rarity in our life these days is time alone with the hubby-unit with out the kids. We don't often get a hankering to go out and do things with out the kids, because we actually enjoy spending time with our kids. Though it would be really cool to go out on a date with my hubby every so often.

Outside of family, rare things abound as well. Like, no traffic on the commute to work. That would be so cool. Or the opportunity to share my faith with a complete stranger. The opportunity to help a fellow human when he/she is expecting none. And my favorite of the rare things...serendipity.

So what can we learn from all of this? When one of the elusive rare things falls in your lap, embrace it, find joy in it and keep the memory in your heart to bring out on rainy days when the world is gray and cloudy and sucks just a little bit.