Smell Something Funny

At the beach, been here roughly 10 days so far, settled in. The kids have their friends, some old and some new. They ran in a large pack for the first few days, but by now, they have begun grouping and connecting. Spending time with one on one, and switching it up very few hours. Primarily, there are girls here. Two boys in the main pack, and they are 6 and 12, so not exactly close in age. This can be a problem for poor little Jacob, because he often is the stinky little brother that no one wants to play with. Well, in this case, stinky was accurate.

Need to make a an up-front apology to you Jacob, this blog is a bit of a laugh at your expense. Right now, you don't really care at all, because you have no idea about this. But someday, if you ever search archives and come across this, you'll find many laughs on your account. Thank you, son, for being a good sport and allowing me to share the laughter. By the way, your sweet little self is fast asleep in mid-afternoon on the couch right in front of me, which is why I am even blogging at the beach. You woke up sick, and have been sick all day so far.

Anyway, I had been hanging out down at the beach, which is maybe 40 yards from the cottage we are staying in. Kids had been in and out of the water, in and out of the cottage, it was a smooth beach day with everyone succesfully entertained most of the time. I hiked the 40 or so yards (such a burden) from the water to the cottage to get something, I don't know, probably a fresh beverage. I walked into a cottage full of girls, guess I hadn't noticed where they had been. I can't tell you who was in there, but I am aware that there was a new friend in the cottage, because I remember watching my reaction to what was about to happen. You know how you feel more comfortable yelling, or what have you, in front of friends who are around alot? But when there are newbies, you don't want to scare them off. So you filter your normal scoldings to make them sound, let's just say, NICE.

Walked in to a group of girls saying "It smells like poop in here!" First thing I do is look for Jacob, and notice he is in fact NOT in the cottage at the moment. Next thing I do is search my memory for whether or not he's 'used the washroom' yet today, as we say when we are in Canada. Mmmmmmm, don't think so. Why would I even keep track you wonder? Well, let's just say he still needs a little assistance in that department, no big deal there. I reply the gracious response about maybe the dog tooted, actually thinking maybe one of these sweet girls tooted and didn't want to admit it. However, this is pretty unnecessary in my home, in fact, these girls seem to take pride in their bodily functions. But there was a new friend here, I remember, and I don't yet know her level of confidence with public tooting.

Then I smell it too. And I have to say that there is a particular oder to a certain person's poo accidents. When I say accidents, I mean that sometimes, the process begins before, shall we say, the pants come down, leaving a little bit of evidence with a very powerful scent. I had to admit that I did smell the familiar smell. But again, Jacob was no where to be seen. So I blow it off and said "I'm sure the dog just tooted" although I wasn't too sure myself.

The my girls blatantly begin asking, well, not really asking, more stating in a accusatory tone of voice, that it smells like Jacob's poo. Since there is an undeniable smell that didn't go away with removing the dog from the cottage, I decide to make a formal investigation. The girls are all hovering around an iPad or an iPhone or a computer, or SOMETHING that you should not have anywhere near your beach vacation because it just seems WRONG. Jordan, who is now 12 (yep, that's right, a tween) was on a chair with the illegal beach device on her lap and everyone else was hovering around watching it. Jordan said the smell was somewhere around the chair. I knew that Jacob had been sitting on that chair earlier, so my thought was that maybe he accidentally began his process too late, leaving a little residue on the chair. So I had her stand, we pulled the various blankets and towels off, gave them the sniff test, and even sniffed the seat of the chair. Nothing. Huh, my best guess was insufficient.

It was funny that the smell seemed to be in the middle of the room only. It was near the chair, but not on the chair. I stood in the middle of the room, wondering. Where could it be coming from? Of course I looked at the floor in front of me, a large Asian rug. I had to lower my head to the floor for a 'tabletop' view since the design on the rug might be hiding something. Still nothing. I even looked up at the ceiling, thinking that maybe there had been an accident on the floor above me. While this may seem ridiculous, keep in mind that cottages are by nature flimsy. The ceiling is plywood, and there are plenty of leaks in the walls and ceilings. So maybe, just maybe, there was a poo accident upstairs and it was seeping. However, upon looking up - nothing. So I decided to let it go. By now, all the girls except Jordan were out of the cottage, and quite frankly, I didn't know where or how else to investigate.

Fast forward 10 minutes. Jordan is still watching some illegal beach device, Jacob is back in the cottage, and I'm buzzing around doing what mom's do chronically: pick up, wipe down some surface, prepare snack, gather laundry, whatever busy work was happening. All of a sudden, I hear "EEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" I'm not sure what happened exactly, but Jordan raised her foot off the floor and held it about 12 inches up, as we both gazed at a brown oval-shaped clump of something stuck to her skin. It suddendly registered that YES, it was Jacob's poo. Still not sure how it got from his rear end on to Jordan's foot, but I can only tell you that the look on my Tween's face spoke 1000 words, none of them nice or loving. You all can picture this, right? Any 12-year-old with her little brother's poo on her foot. . . this was not a pretty sight. I ran to the bathroom to get tissue while Jordan sat frozen on the chair, with Jacob asking "What? What? What?" All I knew was that I was trying to remove the poo before a tirade came flowing out of Jordan's mouth, causing permanent damage to Jacob's self esteem. I was successful only because after the poo removal, she was so motivated to get her foot into the tub to clean off . . . you know. Luckily, although I think Jabob knew he had dropped a little poo on the floor, he seemed to be unphased by all of this commotion. He went back outside.

I went into the bathroom to praise Jordan for holding it together, but the look she gave me spoke another 1000 words. Unfortunately, at this moment, instead of being able to thank her for not abusing Jacob, I BURST into laughter so violently, that I wasn't even sure if I was laughing or crying. I was hysterical! Truly. Jordan, even though I'm sure anger was boiling from her now clean foot to the tip of her head, was not even sure what to do with me. I thought for sure she would at least crack a smile at my strange behavior, but no. Not Jordan, the strong-willed child of steel. I could tell she had a grin in her, but she dared not let it out, considering the heinousness of the situation. I, on the other hand, continued to laugh-the gut wrenching, barely breathing, tears flowing-laugh. I continued to attemt to stop, to comfort Jordan, but as soon as I saw her face of disgust, I busted out laughing again. I tried to hug her to show my support, but she ended up holding me up since I was laughing so hard. Anway, I ended up apologizing for my lack of support with my chronic laughter. I am LOL-ing even as I write this. I think this memory will bring me joy for years.

I am definitly not the mother of the year, and I'm OK with that!

It's Snappy!

I wrote this post last year, just around the time this blog spot changed something . . . enough for people like me to not know how to get on to their own blog. But it was fun to relive this one!

Ok, I know it's been a while since I wrote, you would think one month on the beach would provide some good writing time. Let's just say I was in another world. Current status: back to housekeeping/mothering wonderful life.

So I'm talking to my son Jacob yesterday, I don't know about what. You know how it goes talking to a five-yr-old . . . many of those conversations, I just nod my head and mumble an occasional 'uh huh.' So he was rambling about something very interesting to him when he paused, and said "Tiger has a dead squirrel." He had my attention.

I looked up from the dishes and saw that unfortunately he was not gazing out the window at our cat, Tiger. And therefore Tiger was not outside with the 'dead squirrel'. Oh wait, maybe Tiger just has a stuffed animal in his mouth, I hopefully thought. Since Jacob was peering down the hallway, of course not moving, just commenting on this new awareness that Tiger has a dead squirrel, I slowly walked around the corner to peek at Tiger, who made a mad dash for the basement with, yes, a bushy tail hanging from his mouth. I knew enough to know that it was not one of the beannie babies.

I began yelling "squirrel! squirrel!" down the basement where Chris and Jordan were cleaning. I learned the hard way in the past that simply screaming does not get the necessary attention. A couple years ago when I opened the garage door to a possum about to step into my home, I had hopes that my blood-curdling scream would draw some attention. I was wrong. I next tried screaming "POSSUM!" which was effective. So this time around, I wasted no efforts. It worked.

Chris headed up from the basement, the same time I headed down, so Tiger was trapped in the middle with his trophy. He hid his new little toy underneath my scrapbooking bag and took off. Chris got a broom (not sure how that was ganna help with a chipmunk (Jake was wrong about the squirrel) who can jump. Anyway, Chris picked up the bag, and the rodent started jumping. Therefore, I began screaming because I had visions of National Lampoon's Family Vacation with the squirrel . . . . I'm yelling for Tiger to get back here to catch the dang thing. Jordan is yelling "IT'S ZIPPY! IT'S ZIPPY!" because they name all the wildlife around here, and apparently Zippy is the chipmunk who lives underneath our driveway. Unfortunately, I'm not careing about Zippy's welfare right now, which seems upsetting to Jordan. She's yelling that Tiger will kill it. Yes, where did Tiger go, anyway?

Luckily, Zippy escaped, brushed past Chris's leg, and took off through the basement where Jacob somehow got him to go right out the door. Tiger spent the rest of the afternoon looking longingly out the window. And sweet Julia, who thinks her cat is an angel, missed it all.

You know you are hormonal when . . .

First of all, readers, the reason I have not posted in almost a year is because technology changed, forcing me temporarily our of my own blog, and I am NOT savvy enough to figure it out. Meanwhile, I was going through a very stressful year, and I was reserving every brain cell that I had for the mere purposes of survival. But I am back, at least I thought I was. Back to the reason I am writing today.

I know I am hormonal when I am cracking myself up with my own crazy thoughts. Today, before 9am even rolled around, here were a few clues I am having a hormonal shift. I don't even know if this counts for PMS, because it is only day 19. You may be thinking "how does she even know it is day 19!" Well, let me tell you. You might need to know this because there will be future "You know you are Hormonal when . . ." blogs, as I tend to live 50% of my life having these days. Somehow, I missed the bus when the "normal PMS" assignments were being given out. So anyway, for a long time, I have tracked my days and studied hormones in women. In laywoman's terms, lets just say that hormonone levels change constantly, keeping us a a chronic state of change, making it difficult for me/us to stay consistent and grounded. Ladies, let me offer you this awareness, which I believe accounts for much of our own crazy as well as brilliant thinking. Not everyone may relate to this, because hormones are different in everyone, with some people (like me) having more erratic changes than others.

AS a side note, my mom suggested I read THE FEMALE BRAIN. She even gave me the book. But since I was preserving all my brain cells for survival, I did little more than hold the book and hope to magically download the information by holding it. However, then my bestie, Heather, who I grew up with since the Brownie days, told me that she read it and it was AWESOME. She said every woman should read it, especially moms, because it will help our daughters learn about this crazy phenomenon.

Anyway, on to my morning . . . You know you are hormonal when:


. . . you wake up sweating and dreaming that you have fleas in your head and you are at a conference with people you respect, and those fleas are jumping all over your forehead.

. . . you cringe at the sound of your little child asking for chocolate milk, and you are tempted to yell, "get your own d*#! milk (but you sweetly say "just a minute honey"

. . . you make coffee and get back in bed for the 60 seconds that it takes to brew.

. . . you praise Jesus that it is bagel day at school and that is one less thing you have to do this morning.

. . . when your child starts fussing (because he always does and you should be used to it) you run to your stash of homeopathic vitamins that are supposed to calm your anxiety. You can barely answer the child because you have popped several of these GABA-calms under your tongue, hoping whether or not it is a placebo effect, that it will just come through for you this time!

. . . you will not, under any circumstances, drive the kids to school without coffee in your hand, although you will leave without any make-up, hair, or even shoes.

. . . you notice that it is a beautiful Michigan day (which have been scarce up until recently) so you force yourself for your kids sake to mention what a nice day it is.

. . . you are fully aware that you should take advantage of every beautiful Michigan day, and exercise, or walk the dog, or something! But instead you know full wee that you will go home and make a pot of coffee and enjoy staring out the window being totally non-productive.

. . . you can't wait for the 5 minute drive to be over so you can get a moment to yourself, feeling guilty for being so happy to dump your kids at school.

. . . THEN - 30 seconds later, you are tearful because your kids are leaving you for the day. You remind them to study hard and grow their brain cells, and as you say it, you realize they are growing. They are not just leaving you for the day, they are leaving you!

Everyone, I wish for you today (and myself) a STABLE day!

Heels Up!

I shouldn't have been laughing, but I just could not help it!

Jake and I were driving along, just minding our own business. I was driving home from the gym, feeling accomplished about working out. Even though many people work out many days of the week, each time I actually make it, I am surprised and proud. It's just so easy to blow it off. Anyway, we were tooling along . . .

Stow and Go seating - what a great thing. I used to have to bring a neighbor over to move seats around in my car. Or . . I had to schedule to have Chris put seats back in, or take them out. I used to promise to car pool and drive, only to have kids show up last minute for departure, and realize that my seats were all sitting in my garage. They were so heavy and bulky, I would be cursing under my breath the whole time I was arranging . . . Anyway, I love Stow and Go. It is worth the six year loan . . . ..

So the other day, I had the driver side seats all folded down. . . and little Jake was in the very back in a single seat. He loves sitting way back there in his own world. He was watching a movie on the back movie player . . . all was as it should be. Usually, we go to the gym and then run errands, typically to Costco, where we acquire many groceries and supplies. But this day, no errands. Just the gym. In fact, the van was pretty empty.

So when I stopped at a red light, and then accelerated when it turned green, I was very surprised to hear the 'Thud!' in the back. I thought to myself, "Humm, I didn't buy anything . . . I don't have anything loose to be rolling around . . . what could that be?"

All of a sudden, I heard a slow starting whine . . . "wwwwaaaaaaaaa, haaaaaaa, haaaaaa . ...."

I looked in the rear view mirror . . .. only to see Jake's Spider Man Boots sticking up toward the ceiling, like almost flat against the ceiling! What in the Hee Haw! His Stow and Go seat had come unlocked and had flipped him back, slamming his head against the back door. He had NO room to get out of this postition. I had to pull over, unbuckle him, so he was able to roll to the side and drop out of his trap. He was balling. I, realizing that he was really fine, was trying trying very hard not to laugh. Because it was not funny at all!

Of course, everyone I told, busted out laughing. IT'S NOT FUNNY!

Highway to Where????

So we were driving home from dropping off Girl Scout Cookie money after school. It had been a pajama day for Jacob and myself. Well, I was really in workout clothes because I did a whopping 18 minutes on the machine in the basement . . . I couldn't spell u-l-y-p-t-i-c-a-l correctly if I tried. And Jacob, he was in PJ pants, no shirt, no shoes, but at least a jacket on, because it's gotta be at least 30F outside . . . Anyway, I did not want to be going anywhere today b/c I was looking like I just rolled out of bed. So I was planning on sending Julia to the door, since it was her Girl Scout stuff anyway.

So we drop the money off and are working our way back home when Jake asks to play a game on my iphone. Sure, I said, because I was really tired of hearing "Lots and lots of trains . . . .going under tunnels and through the tracks . . . " soundtrack repeatedly. So I popped that video out and rock music started blasting through the speakers. Julia commented that she usually heard this song in Daddy's car. Of course, Chris programmed MY stations in MY van to HIS music. So I quickly switched it to my favorite Christian station. I asked the kids, knowing full well the answer, if Daddy ever played Christian music in his car. Julia said, hesitantly, "Yeah . . . " I interrupted "No he doesn't!" She grinned. I said, "Next time you're in his car, tell him you want to listen to Christian music." I'm of course thinking that this will increase his guilty conscience if the kids start asking for inspirational music.

Then Jacob blurted out "No! I like hearing . . .(then he began singing) High - way - to - Hell!" by AC/DC. Reminder, to all my readers, Jake is 4. Nice. Very spiritual. Of course, the good mother I am, I bust out laughing. We all did. In our parental defense, I think this song is on Iron Man or Guitar Hero, or something. It's not like we walk around singing that one!

About five minutes later, Julia confessed that she had said that Dad plays Christian music because she didn't want Daddy to get in trouble. "In trouble by who?" I asked. "By you," she said. Gosh, those little buggers are smart!!!! Never, never have I (out loud) chastised Chris for his lack of inspirational music. That Julia, she is certainly in tune. So Chris, just so you know, she was sticking up for you, Just In Case.

Then, sweet Julia said, "You know Mom, I kinda like that song too."

"I know Julia, me too." Then, with full awareness that these young impressionable minds are soaking in everything, I found the song on my sync system (Chris had already programmed it in for me!) We cranked it up, drove around the hood. But being the good mom that I am, I did insert 'heaven' instead of 'hell'

Toxic Release

I was having a "Deafeated Mom" day. You know the kind, those days where kids are arguing, and you don't even care. The dog is continually aiming to walk underneath your feet. One of the cats dragged pooh from the kitty litter onto the floor, which I thought was some burrs or leaves from the back yard stuck to the carpet, so I continued to walk over it until finally, I had enough time to pick it up and realized it was pooh . . . You know this day. Everyone seemed to have a high pitched whiney voice, the voice that actually is like finger nails on the chalk board, I just cringe as soon as they start talking. Anyway, Julia and Jacob were escalating in some kind of argument. If I had to hear "Mom!" "Mom!" MMMMOOOOOOMMMMMMM! one more time, I was going to change my name. So they were arguing, and I heard Julia saying "Stop it, Jacob! Stop it!" "Stop it, Jacob! Stop it!" Ok, times this by 10 . . . 10 more times . . . and 10 times the volume. I just stayed in the laundry room, folding clothes, because I had more use in here at the moment. I tried to justify this by thinking that I was a good mom, letting them work this out on their own. Isn't this how kids establish leadership and surrender in life? The relationships with their siblings? So I just tried to hold my breath and close my ears until it was over. I considered putting my headphones in . . . something I am ashamed to admit that I do during PMS weeks. But then, all of a sudden, Julia let out a TOXIC scream! I think she screamed, "STOP IT!!!!!!!!!" but I don't really know, because the shrill rattled my eardrums. However, following the scream, I immediately felt a release . . . a relief . . . I remembered one of my besites, Kim, telling me (after I had just screamed at my kids) that screaming helps you release toxins. I love that spin on it . . . I actually was a good mom in that moment for letting Julia wail it out! And of course, Jacob was unphased . . . in fact, when I did go in to peek at the scene, he had a grin on his face. Wouldn't you know. Good for you Julia, Toxic Release.

One Thing Leads to Another

I finally found what I was looking for! In the bookshelf department, that is. I've been looking for a couple years. Actually, more than a couple. And it's a good thing I waited. For at least 8 years, I've watched Costco repeatedly sell a tall dark wood bookcase, which if I remember correctly, began selling for $150. Not a bad price at all for the quality. However, back in those days, I never had an extra $150 to burn. So each time I saw it, I would covet it, but figure I'd wait until the next year. They continued to improve it slightly, added a light to it . . . I continued to show self restraint. A time came when I knew I probably could afford it, but still kept waiting. Eventually, I began passing it by because I decided I liked a more rustic look. Well, you would think it would be easy to find a bookshelf. WRONG!

After months of 'Not' finding what I wanted, I tried reducing my book collection. I did reduce it, but not enough to not need a book shelf. I actually weeded through several times, giving away and donating books. But if you know me well, you know that I like to buy books and learn their content by osmosis . . . I hold it long enough to digest the information without reading it. OK, so I have a book addiction! Could be worse.

Anyway, I love to stop in a Hobby Lobby whenever I am near one, bc there isn't one within 30-40 minutes from me. So the other day, I went for birthday celebration for one of my besties, Kim Speck, (also one of my followers and fellow bloggers!) and we happened upon Hobby Lobby. I knew going in that this was NOT a good time to spend money. The day before, we had bought a car which required a down payment, which we had saved up for . . . most of you know the deal. But isn't that how it always happend? When you have money to spend, you can't find squat! When you don't, you find exactly what you are looking for! At least that seems to be a pattern in my spending life. If I could just figure out how to switch that up.

Like most good girlfriends on shopping missions, we split up the moment we entered the store. Why waste time chatting. Of course I was finding lots of great little decor items which were reasonably priced that weren't going to hurt my budget. So I was filling my cart . . .

As I rounded the last corner of the store, 45 minutes in, there I saw them. Not one, not two, but three small bookshelves. Rustic. Weathered paint. Most important - aqua-ish color! Plus a shelf with large shelves for my scrapbooks which I have forever been trying to store. Well, you all know what happened. Luckily, my instincts had compelled me to empty out my van and stow the seats in case someone had made a large purchase.

And so, one thing leads to another. I came home, looked around, considering arrangement. Decided to move my oversized cheap, flimsy, particle board, and wrong-colored-wood desk (which I'll add that my hubby NEVER wanted me to buy in the first place.) First problem, it had to be taken apart and there was no way on GGE (God's Green Earth) that I could move it. Next problem, I had to wait for my husband and his Father to do the task. (I'll hold my comments about this process! Loved the helpt though!) Then, trying to figure out where to put all the junk that my desk held . . . how to re-arrange . . . Finally I figured out where to put things and realized that now, half the other stuff doesn't look good. So out with more stuff, in with more, including a trip to Elements for a cabinet that had my name on it (more money!). I also realized, in this process, how much I really do need a desk. So I began discussion with Elements, one of my favorite stores! about having a desk custom built. Wouldn't want to spend 5 more years looking for something to match.

I guess this is life: You begin one project with enthusiasm and energy . . . and then the multiple little projects in between twist and turn, drain your energy and bank account . . . Hey. I'm not that impulsive thought. I'm sitting here typing on my grandma's antique secretary desk (which my laptop barely fits on). My furniture includes a chair and phone table from my god-mother's house, and an old church pew that my parents salvaged from somewhere. If I were that impulsive, I'd have a nice matching set, new from . .. wherever.

Next project, tackle the closet so I can have room for what used to be in my desk -




OH BOY, here I go!

Happy Holidays!

Here I am on my 'vacation' . . . No, the kid's vacation from school. We need to re-label that time of the season for moms, because as we all know, it is NOT a vacation. Funny, I was just wondering to myself what the actual definition of a vaction would be, so I did dictionary.com and sure enough, I was RIGHT! "No Dictionary Results" Huh. Must be mothers who are in charge of dictionary.com!

In all seriousness, I haven't gotten to blog about my real vacation in the islands because since I've been home, I've pretty much been dealing with my kids' vacation. Obviously, I can't even post a picture because I havent figured out how to get those on my computer!!! But I will. And let me just say that waking up when I wanted to wake up, eating when I wanted to eat, sitting for as long as I wanted to sit, finishing a full conversation whenever I wanted to, THAT was a vacation. Didn't even have to be in the islands, although that surely did help!!!

So New Year's is the next obvious holiday, two days . . . which Dec. 31 is also our Wedding Anniversary . . . 14 YEARS!!!! Shinia Twain's song 'Looks Like We Made It' surely is appropriate for us . . .

Anyway, I was talking with a young female client the other day, who happens to be single. If you are reading this and either under 30, single, or not a mother, feel free to skip this part, you might not relate. So this gal was sad and worried because she didn't have anything to do for the first time on New Year's Eve, or more importantly, anyone to be with. This was my first moment of jealousy. So I talked with her about how she might make the night special for herself . . . and she planned to do yoga (second moment of jealousy), make a new recipe just for herself (third moment of jealousy) and then get some art supplies and do a vision board (through the roof jealousy). Now she was kind of feeling like a loser for having 'this' plan for New Year's. I confessed to her my jealousy, because at this point of the conversation, this self-disclosure seemed appropriate. I told her I'd think about her New Year's Eve when I was surrounded by MANY children of all ages while we played games during my Mother-N-Law's family game night.

Don't get me wrong: I like games, and I like kids. I even really do like my Mother-N-Law! But the combination of all this, including kids up way past their bedtime, fueled up with Sugar, Salt, and Fat . . . Oh Boy. If a magic fairy offered to let me trade places with my client, I would be awfully tempted . . . Luckily I won't have that option.


As I shared my New Year's Eve plans with her, I saw her face change. Her feelings about her own New Year's plans were shifted into a new light. The grass is always greener . . . I think I'll work on appreciating all my family fun chaos!

I hope that all my readers (all 6 of you - I learned of another one!) have a blessed and safe and happy New Year's Eve and a happy New Year with many new beginnings!

Learned Something

Well, after my dream vacation, which I'll write more about later if I ever get the chance, my kids continue to pay me back for leaving.

Particularily Jacob . . . the 4-yr-old ever-changing-weather-pattern. Day one of my re-entry, he decided that paybacks were necessary. So as soon as the snuggles were over, which was about 2 minutes, the oppositional behavior began. To just get to the point of my story, because once again, at present moment, he is lying beside my chair crying b/c he can't make a ramp for the ice-skate christmas ornament b/c it fell on Julia's head . . . Anyway, He was crying and screaming so hard the other day, about nothing, that I finally decided if I wanted to stay sane, I had to get hime out of the house. So I did. I locked the doors before he could come in from the car. He stood in the garage, kicking the door as hard as he could. Then he went to the front door, and pounded the doorbell repeatedly, a joyful noise to my ears. I had decided much earlier that we would likely either be visiting the hospital or protective services that day, because he was probably going to hurt himself and I wasn't in the position to stop him. Either that, or I'd be in the car shop b/c he would have dented the car with his kicking. I was prepared for either/both.

Luckily, and here is my point, popping him outside in the freezing weather when he is throwing a fit seems to work. I actually just threatend it, and he cried "But I'll be alone and cold!" "Then quit crying," I said. He did. It's a Christmas Miracle.

If any of you know people that have strong willed little boys, please forward them my blog. We need need a support group!

I'm The Maid

After picking up all my family members clothing from the bathroom floor and dumping it in the hamper, I stated loudly, "I'm not the maid, you know!"

Julia (7) sweetly said, "Mom, I know you're not the maid, but you'd be really good at it if you were."

Maybe there's a future for me here!

Dream Vacation Begins

My LONG awaited for vacation began this morning at 3am. UGH! First stop: the beautiful Detroit Airport where we boarded the cheapest most uncomfortable airline in the world, Spirit. The seats did not even recline, and somehow I managed to sleep for two hours with my head bobbing to and fro! Next stop, Ft Lauderdale. With a 3 hour layover, I thought "Great, we'll get some exercise, breakfast, and find the bookstore for leisurely browsing!" My Bad! As I set out for our walk, attempting to get out of the multicultural crowd where we were a minority, I knew the first stop needed to be a restroom. There was one right there in all the congestion. However, there was a line, and the bathroom appeared small. No worries, I thought, there will be anotherone up the way. Chris had been successful with the mens room. We began walking again, for about 20 seconds, and came to a sign that said "do not go any further". Oh....we must've gone the wrong way. We turned around, through the crowd, a 30 second walk, the end of the airport. That's it? One hallway? One restroom? One magazine stand? No starbucks? A million people? Three hours!

You'll be happy to know that we survived. We bought coffee from a Maxine look-a-like
(hallmark cards) and sat and decided to talk with zero children interruptions.

Current status: our flight to St Thomas is being delayed!!!!

I have no business complaining about any of this! I know how lucky I am to be going to the sweetest place on earth. I'll only complain if we don't make it there!

The Gate!

I finally finished, and now it's too pretty in my opinion to hang crap on. Back to the old drawing board!

We are Masterpieces - Wow!

Ok Readers of my blog, (all five of you) I know I am usually pretty darn funny . . . well, at least I crack myself up. Which is a good thing, really, because I rarely get lonely or have to go looking for fun. Anyway, I actually had something seriously beautiful happen this morning. I began to write about it in a journal so that I could possibly remember it in days, weeks, years to come. After my first sentence in my journal, I thought, "This is one for everyone." So here it is.

To give the background, last week, I was at Treeside (where I work) and was chatting in the garage with Renee, who was doing some yard work. Yes, I was just standing there watching her and NOT helping. I had a good excuse. Anyhow, suddenly I noticed an old and rotting wooden gate leaning against the wall. I pretty much screamed "Can I have that?" as quickly as I could get it out of my mouth. Renee quickly glanced to see what I was freaking about. She of course looked past the old, rotting, gate, because it was in the 'Take to the Garbage' pile. "The gate!" I said. "Yeah," she said. "Just text Jim and make sure it's OK."

I texted Jim, who was out in the middle of nowhere - shooting holes in his vehicle (another story here) but really trying to shoot a deer . . . anyway, Jim's exact response was (in text language) "u can hv the gate with my blessings!" I didn't realize what the blessing would be.

I was so excited, you'd have thought I'd won the lotto. I was literally calling a couple friends and raving about this old rotting gate I was now the proud owner of. I was even scared to express my excitement and plans to Renee, for fear that she would then see the value and want it back!

I picked up the gate, brought it home, and carried into my house immediately because if it settled into the garage, even for one day, I knew it might end up as one of those projects that never gets done.

After work last night, I had my mind set on painting the gate. Now, anyone who is a mom knows that it is risky to even try to have a plan for yourself, such as completing a project, while your kids are home. As soon as I walked into my home at 6:30 pm, my kids were hyped up about some pretend monster they had 'created' to mess with Jacob. They wanted to tell me all about it. In fact, they were following me all over, even the bathroom, b/c they were so darn excited. The monster? It is called a WangDoodle, it has stripes, it's habitat is the common home, and it feasts on Thanksgiving Dinners. Jordan had even drawn a picture and Julia was creating pretend messes (from the monster) and then cleaning it up. They were setting pretend bait . . . . anyway, I did the minimal mother duty and made sure that Jacob wasn't really and truly scared, and then continued to 'pretend' I was listening, but really began obsessing about painting my gate. Oh yeah, I also did the obligatory preparing of dinner, pancakes and sausage. But as soon as my last bite was taken - and yes, I was the first one done - I was setting up my paint.

The job went quickly, because I was going for rustic and weathered look, which the gate already had. I was just trying to add some artistic color. What took more time for me to deal with was Jacob, who was insisting on helping me. So I was trying to find a way to let him help and get it out of his system . . . all efforts failed. So Chris, my DH, kindly too him away and got him dirstracted.

My plan for the gate was to paint and decorate it with collection of unique hooks. Then I was going to put it in the hallway, where you would only see it if you went down the hall. You all know the problem: coats, backpacks, scarves, sweatshirts . . . all those things that end up on the floor all over the hallway, no matter what kind of organization system you have! I had always resisted putting hooks in my hallway, even down by the garage door and laundry room because then there would just be a bunch of crap decorating my hallway. But NOW, I thought this would at least be a classier way of hanging the crap. And if I got special hooks for each child, they might even WANT to hang their stuff.

So as my rotting-gate-now-artwork was coming together, I began to think it needed more of a special place to be displayed. I was more and more excited, even tried to call a friend over to see it - just like a new baby or something. So far, no one has seen it. But it's only been a day, I need to relax. Anyway, just for fun, I cleared some things out of the spot you first see when you enter my home, and I placed the gate there . . .Wow. Even Chris - who had rolled his eyes when I first mentioned the gate, which meant "here she goes again, collecting more garbage!" even Chris thought it looked pretty good there. He had previously thought putting it 'there' would look junky. Go figure. When I woke this morning, and came down the stairs, this being the first time I saw it in the morning light, IT LOOKED AWESOME!!!! I was so happy!

So I sat down to read my morning book, Jesus Calling, and it was about how God loves us more than we can imagine, regardless of our performance. It even said 'We are His Masterpieces' . . . a work created magnificantly.

I don't know about you readers, but I know that DAILY I fall short from being a perfect person. In fact, I am often really down on myself for some of the selfish decisions I make. But this was reminding me that NONE of that mattered when it comes to God's radiant love. The book said my responsibility was only to be receptive to His unconditional love, regardless of my feelings or behavior.

Of course my thought's went right to my new 'masterpiece' . . . it's new placement being in a spot where it is highlighted. And old-decaying-falling apart-rusty-garbage-bound-gate, NOW a masterpiece (in my opinion) displayed in the prime spot of my home. I thought about my excitement of 'finding' and 'claiming' and preparing, and valuing this gate. My desire to show others and share my joy!

And God was showing me He knows the feeling, Pride in His Masterpiece. Humbling.

PS: I will of course post the photo once I get it complete!

Unexpected Weather

Just like checking the weather report in the morning, I check the 'mood' of my son, Jake, who is 4. Unfortunately today, it was one of those 'weather reports' that you can't trust. It was just like looking out the window and seeing blue skies, sunshine . . . Jake woke up singing and smiling at 6:30. Then, he fell back asleep after coming into our bed. We snuggled - ie - enjoyed the weather report and planned for the sunny day! So I got up, began moving, smiling, making coffee, reading, and then I heard the thunder. It came from upstairs, in my room. It was more like a crack of lightening and thunder. It screamed, "I want Chocolate Milk!" "From Mommy!"

Uh Oh! Clouds are blowing in from nowhere! Where did these come from? It was blue skies a few minutes ago. Let's just wait out the storm, hopefully it will pass quickly.

"Hey Buddy! Are you just waking up?" I say in my sing-songy voice.

"I WANT CHOCOLATE MILK!" Jake says in his thunderous voice.

"Ok, can you ask nicely?" I say, in my sunshine-and-blue-sky voice.

"I WANT CHOCOLATE MILK!" He screams in his dark-cloud-no-chance-of-clouds-breaking voice.

"I'm not going to get it if you don't ask nicely," I say in my, Crap!-the-weather-man-is-wrong-again! voice.

Then, a tornado came through, and I can't tell you what happened because I lost my footing. But luckily, after that passed, the rest of the day was the calm after the storm.

Hopefully, tomorrow, regardless of the weather report, there are no tornados expected!

My break ends, His begins!

If you could see me now, you see me slumped down in a chair by the train table at the library. Once again, it's another beautiful November day, but my boy wanted to come here to read books. What an intelligent and gifted child to beg to go to the library at age 4! Yeah, the truth is that he hasn't touched a book since we got here. Becuase his sole purpose was to play with the trains. My sole purpose was to slump in this chair as long as I could. He's actually yelling me he wants to leave, his 15 minute attention span is over. But I'm not leaving! It is quiet here. Since it so nice outside, I haven't seen one other patron here at all. Big yawn. I wonder what these librarians think of me sitting here (lying here really) oh well, if they are moms, they get it. I remember my mom taking me to the library all the time. To read. To write. To participate in library activities. I'm guessing her goal wasn't ever to get rest, but I could be wrong. Well, now he's more than ready to leave. Guess my break is over!

The photo? Jake-on the way home. Guess his break is just beginning!

Beautiful Day

It is an absolutely perfect day . . . Sunday afternoon, warm, sunny, slight breeze - just enough to make the day interesting. Every creature in the home is happy. Except Tiger, our cat, who attempted to bring in a new playmate, a chipmunk. We dashed his plan pretty quickly. Hudson and Tiger (both cats) had a sweet little wrestling match, and Sammy (dog) even tried to get in on it, which they didn't allow.

Anyway, beautiful day, and I am still in my PJ's, lying in bed, obviously blogging. Why am I in bed? I think my 90-miles-per-hour recent lifestyle gotten the best of me. OK, 90-miles is probably an exaggeration. But for an almost 40-year-old mother of three, our perspective is different. My 90-miles-an-hour last week includes working Monday morning, beginning to prepare for my Colonoscopy, shopping, cleaning, and packing for my retreat, continuing to prepare for my Colonoscopy (no need to describe this!). Then Tuesday morning, having a Colonoscopy (which I got a perfect report in case you are interested), then packing up, picking up my colleague and great friend, Renee - yes, I did drive shortly after the Colonoscopy, but the anesthesia was pretty worn off. Anyway, Renee drove up to Alpena, which is where I am from, and we spent a couple hours with my Best Friend from childhood, Heather, and her baby (my God-daughter) Julianna. From that late night, we had planned on staying with my parents and busting out at the crack of dawn for Mackinaw Island where the retreat was. But of course, we slept a little later than we thought. And THEN, Renee started asking questions about my parents antiques and treasures. And they started showing her, one by one . . . Let me just say that on that morning, I think my parents may have been wishing that Renee was their daughter instead of me!

So we get to the Island, rush to the Grand Hotel, where my tiredness catches up with me and I request to stop all activities to take a short nap. Five minutes into the process of TRYING to nap, my phone rings and we are up and at em. I can't complain here, however, because I got to go shopping without children around me. Realized (again) that shopping without children is an enjoyable and financially dangerous activity! But-everything was on sale b/c the shops were all closing for the winter. Exhaused, we hiked ourselves and our bags back to the Grand Hotel to prepare for the dinner, which you were supposed to look nice and be dressed semi-formally. If you know anything about me, my idea of dressed up is wearing a nice pair of jeans . . . including the fashionable holes! Luckily, I had found (and of course purchased) three long skirts while shopping. So now in total, I own three skirts! As we were walking down to the dining area, I commented to Renee about how I was feeling totally anti-social. Here I am with hundrends of Christian women at this retreat, a wonderful opportunity to enjoy socializing, and I am cranky, tired, and don't even feel like making eye-contact! To top it off, as we go into the dining room, I realize we don't even get our own table. We have to sit with 'other' people. UGH! Must Socialize. Kim, another colleage/great friend, and her mom (now a valued friend too!) were with us, so we sat in the middle of an 8-seater. I'm sure the Grand Hotel, in all of it's fancy grandness, has another name for this table, anyway . . . I sit next to two people whom I don't know. I'm thinking "Great. I have to be nice, we are at a Christian event after all." Well, by the end of dinner, I think my original friends were annoyed with me and feeling ignored. All I did was BLAH BLAH BLAH to these people, who were very fun and social! I guess my other personality popped forth just when I needed her.

So the next day was the retreat. I felt pretty alert in the morning - how can you not be when you are listening to a man speak who died in a car accident, went to Heaven, and then was brought back after 90 minutes! But in the afternoon two sessions, this is embarassing to admit, I literally fell asleep sitting straight up in an uncomfortable chair! This happened two different times. I had eyes open one second, and the next I was being jerked back by the head bob. That NEVER happens to me, except at children's movies, like last week at the owl movie. So I should have known a body break down was on it's way.

To get to the point . . . I finally did get sick, just a fever, but enough to put me in bed. And I'm still recovering today. I had to cancel two functions today, pluse churc, all of which I really wanted to attend. The lesson? Even though it's all good stuff, too much is too much. I could be outside enjoying my chilren right now.

Back to the basics for me. I'm simplifying. Once I get through the neighborhood party that I have to plan for next weekend, Oh, and the staff training I am hosting the following week, oh and the Brownie meeting next Thursday . . .

Burst Back Into Reality

So a lot of you know that I was in Texas for a training for PsychoDrama (I know, sounds scary.) At the beginning of the 4-day-stay, I was whining a little about having to sleep in a trailer that didn't have running water. Not to mention that I had to sleep in the small be in the kitchen of the camper while my roomie got a luxorious bedroom with queen bed to herself. My thought? She is 20 years older than me, so she automatically gets the upgrade. Plus she moved right in to the full bath (ok, it was 1 foot by 1 foot), and even though there was no water, women need their primping space. I hold no resentments though, she paid for the 3 bean nachos I had for dinner. Thanks Lori!

Anyway, I came to love my little spot in the camper. I was able to sleep through the night each night - four in a row. That is unheard of for me in these last 10 years of my life. Between having to share a bed and children occasionally wondering in my bedroom, to dog barking randomly . . . . I rarely get a whole night's sleep.
I was excited to sleep in my own be at 1:30 in the morning when I got home from my trip, but I was less than thrilled when I woke up at 5:30 with young visitors. Jordan and Julia had been sick while I was gone, so I kept them home for a day of recovery. For all of us. I heard Jordan on the phone talking to Chris around 6pm, "Yeah, Mom is still in her pajamas." Guess it's been too long since we had a PJ Day.

Day 2? Woke up at 5:30 to Jacob . . . sick. So now, 12:30pm - Still in PJ's. Actually still in bed because I need to monitor Jacob. Wah Wah Welcome home Mom!

My date with two Boys

Today, I CHOSE to bring my son Jacob and his best buddy, Brooks, (both 4)
to the mall. Now, those of you who really know me are wondering why I would punish myself like that! My answer to that is "because it is Wild Wednesday at Jeepers!" All day riding for only $5 per kid.

The best part? Moms ride for free!!!!

So today was my first whirl on the bumper cars. I'm wondering, do other moms feel when they get on bumper cars like they want to DESTROY the other cars? I'm thinking that either I've had too much caffiene today, OR I have some pent up aggression. I was always competitive, but competing against 4-yr-olds doesn't seem like it should be that exciting.

Next stop? The massive play structure. My son would not go to the highest level
with me, you know, the one with the twisty slide that gives you static electricity that is actually painful. Luckily, Brooks would go there with me so I didn't look like a total idiot.

Then, while I was chatting with a distraught friend on the phone (while of course keeping my eyes on two active boys in the play land)-quick prayer of thanks that Women really can multiple-task! I had to interrupt my friend to correct another mother. That's right. See, she had been disciplining her toddler son from 'beating' on the cushy banana while my boys laid motionless on the banana. She was reprimanding him, so I intervened to fill her in that they were playing
Dead Lion. Her son was playing the role of lion whisperer and trying to wake the lions! When I got back on the phone, my friend was cracking up about how we, as moms, go from a serious heart conversation, to handling a dead lion issue, and back to serious-all in one breath!

Anyway, I won't bore you with the details of the other rides and activities, but I will say that this was one of the better days I've had lately.

Who would've thought!

Now I want a Pony!

I've been accused of having too many pets. In fact, I'm worried because there is a new show on TV about Pet Hoarding. At the end of the show, there is a statement posted that says that if you know someone who has more pets than they can take care of, please call 1800-555-whatever.

I'm actually concerned that someday, these people will show up at my door with cameras. Oh, I just thought of a plan! I'll send them to Tenessee where my birth mom, Beverly lives. She collects dogs and is worse than me (I think.) Anyway, I do come by it naturally. Plus, I blame all these pets on my daughter, Jordan. She's an animal freak and I have had difficulty in the past saying 'no' to her.

I'm way off the point. Last night was Octoberfest in Downtown Rochester. I had worked all day, seeing clients with real problems, and actually felt depressed by the end of the day. But we had plans to go out with our friends to Octoberfest, which should be named "Survive in a big sweaty tent with tons of people, and pay loads of cash for rubbery hot dogs, good beer, and cheap wine." Oh, and enjoy the German dancers who look like they are having NO fun! Again, I'm off the point.

The best part of the evening was being outside at the kids activities, where we also spent tons of 'tickets'. My little Jacob was going through the big kids bounce house obstacle course like any other big kid out there! As I watched, I had tears in my eyes: I was shouting to people on the inside to help him out, (there were tall climbing challenges) but Jacob was refusing HELP. Wonder where he gets that! My middle child - of course I haven't mentioned her because she is my middle child - she was walking around picking grass to feed the goats because I refused to pay $1 for feed. And my oldest, Jordan, was stuck like glue to the animals she could pet. Again, the goats. She also wanted to play games, but by the time we were there, the prizes were gone. The adults were trying to blow the rest of the tickes so we could go home to bed . . . so we were pushing the pony rides, a big ticket blower. Well, Jordan, my animal lover, is also nervous to do new things. She was reluctant to get on the pony (or the dance floor for that matter) even though her best friend was physically dragging her by the arm. I decided, "Why try to make her do it, I'll just ride the pony!" I began to beg her for the tickets . . . .she didn't like that idea either. But finally, after realizing there were no other options, she gave in and handed me the tickets.

Long story way too long, in the end, she got on the pony, and I was right beside her. And then, the pony guy could see the joy in my eyes, and he let me hop on a pony too! A freshly bathed in WISK detergent pony! So cute and soft and fluffy! Who is the child here?

I want a pony!

Go Figure

So, my husband is out tonight with friends. Which is actually something we do really well together, I mean, support each other to go out with friends and have time away from family. The problem is that we usually don't go out together! Anyway, that will be another post.

Tonight, of all nights, I get this bug to make home-made Chinese food. This is only strange because I don't recall EVER making Chinese. In fact, the only time my family eats Chinese is when I go out of town!

Once, when I was preparing to leave town for work, I asked my oldest daughter, Jordan, if she liked it when I leave town. She said, "Yes, because we get Chinese food and doughnuts. But when it comes time for you to go, I never want you to leave." Its horrible that food is such a drug!

Anyway, today, I received my shipment of Wildtree - which - if you don't know, is all natural food products that are AWESOME! In my attempt to be a better wife (which backfired this evening) I ordered some Thai Sesame Sun Butter Sauce and some Kickin' Asian Stir-Fry Sauce. All natural, blah blah blah. (I'm a health addict, for those of you who don't know me.) (Side bar, just because I'm a health addict doesn't mean I'm healthy or totally skinny and in shape, by the way. It just means I always try to feel better by focusing on being healthy.)

Oh My Goodness! All I can say is that the dinner I made was so tasty, I literally walked out my front door and over to my neighbors house to see if they wanted to eat over! I had made so much of this awesome food, and my main Chinese Eater was out with his buds. Well, the neighbors were on their way out to eat, but the wife/mom did come over to sample it. And she did agree that it ROCKED!

So naturally, my children, who eat real Chinese every time I go away, well, they really didn't like it at all. And my hubby wasn't home to eat it. So I reveled in it myself!

The lesson? Once again, I'm not sure if there is one. And now I have to go because my kids are asking for snacks (b/c they are starving from their taking only three bites of dinner). Surely my husband is about to walk in the door asking for dinner - anything but Chinese!