Casey's Commentary

The End

2011-07-06T23:29:00.003-05:00

When I was growing up, I kept diaries. Sort of.

I kept them much the same way I post on this blog--in waves. Hit or miss. Sometimes writing every day and sometimes going weeks (or months) without recording anything at all. And I would continue to do this until eventually, I would turn the page of the journal and find myself at the back cover with no more room to write.

So I would purchase a new book and continue--on fresh pages. A new chronicle, even as it was a continuation of the old.

And I could look at all of those volumes and tell you which one I wrote in when my parents were getting divorced and which one contained the girly, mushy, teenage memories of my first kiss. One sporadic story of my childhood contained in several volumes.

For awhile now it I have had the feeling that maybe I have come to the virtual "last page" of this blog. That it is time to start a new volume.

Not because I've literally run out of space, but because there is something fresh and new and promising about a blank journal where the spine crackles a little bit when you open it. There's something about how the pen feels on that first page that reminds you that today and all the days that will follow are just a little bit different than yesterday. Perhaps they contain a fresh and new story.

So I'm going to "shelve" this volume of the cyber-chronicle of my life and start a new one. And I can't wait to see how it unfolds.

You'll find it

here

I'd love it if you'd stop by!

Getting Out of the Way

2011-06-25T10:15:00.002-05:00

As the five of you who read this regularly can tell, I've been having a bit of a "blog dry spell."

It isn't that I don't have things to write about. I do. I have a long list of drafts that are started but not finished. They are either too long, too short, too quippy, not quippy enough, too much information, not enough information, and the list goes on and on ad naueseum.

So I sit and write nothing--and feel guilty about it.

Which is really crazy. I started this blog for me...to chronicle the crazy life I live, since I can't seem to get a scrapbook or photo album put together to save my life. :o)

Anyway--

This morning, while drinking a cup of coffee and reading, I came across this quote by Ray Bradbury:

"Your intuition knows what to write, so get out of the way."

Maybe I'll give that a try.

Stay tuned.

Info from the Inside...

2011-05-14T22:30:00.002-05:00

Okay, so you know how sometimes, the catcher calls "time out" in a baseball game and then heads to the mound to have a chat with the pitcher?

I've always wondered what they say up there. I assumed it had something to do with what kind of pitch to throw next...how the batter has been hitting, etc.

Well today I found out.

My son's team was in the bottom of the last inning of their game. We were up 9 to 3, and there were 2 outs on the board.

And the pitcher had done a great job all game. But he was starting to throw a few more balls...and a few less strikes. And he was starting to get flustered.

My son (the catcher) called a "time out." He jogged up to the pitcher's mound, said something to the pitcher, and then jogged back to home plate.

The pitcher smiled. In fact, he was still trying to hide his smile as he wound up for his next pitch.

Strike one! Strike two! Strike three! Game over. Bullpups 9, the other team 3.

So on the way home, I asked my son,

"What exactly did you say to Cole on the pitcher's mound back there?"

My son's reply:

"I just told him: 'I see you're not having fun, anymore. Frankly, that's really putting a damper on my evening.' "

And I figured he had just advised him to picture the other team in their underwear.

My Journey Around the Sun

2011-04-14T07:00:00.003-05:00

I just finished a book called The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin.

I will confess—I read this because a dear friend thrust it into my shaking hands a few weeks ago and said, “I picked this up at Costco. You should read it.” To which I replied, “I don’t have time to read books right now. I haven’t really read anything all year!”

Steph said, “Fine. Just read the ‘A Note to the Reader.’ It’s only a page.” I took the book from her and stuck it in my purse.

A short side-note about my purse: Stuff goes in and rarely comes out. So I carried this book around in my purse for a better part of a week—rooting around it to find car keys, my phone, lip gloss, Altoids…you get the idea.

And then at some point I had a few minutes, so I pulled it out and read ‘A Note to the Reader.’ And then I read ‘Getting Started.’ Then ‘January,’ ‘February,’…you get the point…until before I realized it, I had finished the entire thing in a weekend. More or less.

This post really isn’t about this book, although it was very good and I will need to obtain my own copy after I return this one to my dear friend.

Ms. Rubin has a list of what she calls “Secrets of Adulthood”—lessons she learned with some difficulty while growing up.

So although I don’t think these are necessarily “Secrets of Adulthood,” here are 38 things that I have learned on my “journey around the sun," thus far:

1. Always say “May I please have _______________.” and “Thank you” when ordering food. You may be the first person a waiter or waitress hears this from in his/her day.This is also a big hit in the college cafeteria line.

2. And the corollary—tip 20%. The hourly wage for waitstaff is disgusting.

3.The days are long, but the years are short.

4.A vowel in a closed syllable is short; a vowel in an open, accented syllable is long.

5.It is called heartbreak because that experience causes the organ that pumps the blood to your body to feel an actual, physical, stop-your-breath kind of pain.

6.You will remember the times that you were punished unfairly for something you didn’t do. However you probably won’t remember near the number of times that you should have gotten busted but didn’t.

7.It is easier to remember information that has been put to a song.

8.There is a fine line between waiting too long to take care of something and “jumping the gun.” Both are bad practices.

9.There is healing power in tears.

10.There is healing power in laughter.

11.A negative number multiplied by a negative number is a positive number.

12.Most things taste better if they are homemade from scratch. Brownies just might be the exception.

13.Emulating Christ and being a Christian are not necessarily the same things.

14.Fostering a love of reading in children pays big dividends.

15.Make sure you have a couple of friends who will tell you the hard things and will call you on your crap.

16.Smile with your eyes. Share your smile with others. Often. Never underestimate the power of a genuine smile.

17.Feeling like you’ve been picked last for the kickball team is just as painful at 37 as it is at 7.

18.Your taste buds will change. I have come to love sweet potatoes, eggplant, Brussels sprouts, and a well-made sage and onion stuffing. I now detest Maraschino cherries, Cool Whip, blueberry pancakes, and (sorry, Mom) peanut butter and apple jelly sandwiches.

19.Always have a sweater, an umbrella, and an ice scraper in your car.

20.It is possible to love someone and not like them very much.

21.The opposite of love is indifference.

22.Multi-tasking isn’t as effective as it appears to be.

23.Once fat cells are created, they are always there…even after you lose weight. They just become “skinny” fat cells—waiting for junk to fill them up again.

24.Your metabolism will slow down. You won’t always be able to eat junk and never exercise. Prepare for this by fostering healthy eating/exercise habits when you are young.

25.Don’t expect it to last forever. Everything ends and that’s okay. And it’s okay to celebrate even those things that end.

26.If you pour Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup on someone’s car windows, it will ooze down into the door mechanism, and every time the windows are rolled down or up, chocolate will smear on them.

27.Reading Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day after a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day does make you feel better, whether you’re 3…8…or 38.

28.Writing “wash me” on a dirty car with your fingers causes the tiny particles of dirt to act as a sand paper of sorts and permanently damage the finish of the vehicle.

29.Words in the English language don’t end in v. The “e” at the end of “have” isn’t there to make the vowel long. It’s there to keep the word from ending in a v.

30.Recreational companionship is a basic need of most men in a relationship.

31.Children can tell when you aren’t really listening to them.

32.People don’t want my opinion nearly as often as I want to give it to them.

33.Vodka + Kahlua = a very nice “after five” drink.

34.It is possible to run 13.1 miles and actually enjoy it.

35.Once you complete a task in a relationship, it becomes your job. Exercise caution when completing tasks in relationships. :o)

36.It is easier to obtain forgiveness than it is to obtain permission.

37.When human beings behave badly, that behavior is almost always driven by fear, hunger, or exhaustion.

38.It is a woman’s prerogative to change her mind. Because really, that prerogative belongs to everyone.

Bad Company Corrupts Good Moral Character

2011-04-07T22:00:00.010-05:00

I have these two fabulous friends. My connection to them is one of those stories where somewhere along the way all of us politely said "yes" to a potentially awkward situation, got kids together to meet and play, and amazing connections formed almost instantaneously. Too many years to count later, even though lives are busy and we see each other as a group rarely, it is still a great time when we do.

These friends are sisters--preacher's kids.

Two years ago, when the three of us got together, we did this:

(This may have been the beginning of my midlife crisis)

Yesterday, we got together again. And we decided to do this:

(Hopefully, this is the end of my midlife crisis)

I'm pretty sure I'm a bad influence on these poor, sweet PKs--I'm sure they never would have thought of either of these crazy shenanigans on their own--right, ladies? :o)

My apologies, Pastor and Mrs. H!

If You're Lookin' for a Fight...

2011-04-04T23:04:00.002-05:00

assign the task of cleaning the kitchen after dinner to three of your children.

This is a 100% foolproof way to:
~turn talking into yelling.
~hear the words "jerk...stupid...shut up...idiot" hissed in what children believe to be a whisper but I can hear perfectly fine.
~start a flood of tears.
~have someone get popped in the face, arm, etc. with a dishtowel (didn't Bill Cosby mention that in one of his stand-up comedy routines?).
~ensure at least one broken dish.
~send someone to bed early.

Wish that someone could be Mom.

Take Five

2011-03-31T22:54:00.004-05:00

I was talking to one of my dear friends today, who also happens to be a work colleague. As we were visiting, she shared a gem of a concept that another mutual friend and colleague had shared with her.

This friend said that she tries to keep life simple by thinking in terms of "five."

"Where do I want to be in five weeks?"

"Where do I want to be in five months?"

"Where do I want to be in five years?"

For some reason, this really resonated with me. "I can do that," I thought to myself.

And as life seems to be spinning in such a vastly different direction than I expected as of late, it feels like an appropriate exercise.

So here goes...the very rough draft of my "five." (Any and all parts of this are subject to change without notice. :o) )

Five Weeks~
In Five Weeks, I am looking forward to:
~celebrating a friend's graduation from college.
~celebrating the birth of Brian's newest nephew.
~experiencing firsthand the truth that I am clinging to as a promise at the moment..."time heals all wounds."
~logging lots and lots of "running in the wild" miles.
~counting down the days unitl the end of the school year.
~baseball season in full-swing.
~dance spring performance in full-swing.
~my nephew's impending 15th birthday.

Five Months~
In Five Months, I am looking forward to:
~a trip "across the pond" with Brian to see my brother (and Kevin Spacey) in Richard III.
~having completed a digital SLR class, so that I can take advantage of my lovely camera and capture some really great pictures in the UK.
~feeling relaxed after a couple of months of summer with my family.
~feeling closer to God and closer to embracing the plan that He has for my life instead of fighting it so hard.
~teaching yet another teenager how to drive?!?!--Power of positive thinking, right??

Five Years~
Five years is harder. :o)
In five years I am looking forward to:
~having no money...as one child will be in college and another will be on his way.:o)
~planning a high school graduation celebration for my second-born.
~enjoying the next phase of my relationship with my oldest...who will no longer live at home.
~having discovered my passion...the thing that drives me and makes me feel fulfilled.
~having discovered my ministry...the thing that stirs my heart to "give back" and show the love of God to my fellow man.
~the final couple of years with children in the house.
~enjoying the fact that people always think I look younger than I am. :o) So far, that hasn't been such an amazing gift. But I'm really expecting the payoff to start in about five years. :o)

Sixteen is Sweet

2011-03-19T13:38:00.007-05:00

This is the martini that Mom needs.

This is Sonic that has the ice...to make the martini that Mom needs.

This is the daughter, with the license so nice...who offered to drive to Sonic to purchase the ice...to make the martini that Mom needs.

16 might just be my new favorite number!

*Author's note* No underage offspring were corrupted in the making of this blog post. Martini was assembled and consumed by legal adults who are old enough to haven't been carded in an establishment in a really long time!

"Food??" for Thought (or for Obesity and Cardiovascular Disease)

2011-03-16T20:35:00.004-05:00

*Author's Note* Data contained in this post is approximate as exact brand names of items are unknown at this time.

Yesterday, I decided to brave the elementary school cafeteria and join my third-grade daughter for lunch.

I called the school to ask if this would be okay. But since I had back-to-back teaching sessions from 8:30 until 10, the very sweet office assistant informed me that I was welcome to join my daughter for lunch, but unfortunately, I did not notify them in time to have a cafeteria lunch prepared for me. I would be welcome to bring something in.

No problem. I ate school lunches essentially every school day from 1st grade to my freshman year of high school. I've done my time.

I asked if I could bring food in for my daughter. "Sure," the assistant replied. "The only thing that you absolutely can not bring her is pop."

Okaaaaay....??

Soda is a "no go," but a Frosty from Wendy's? Fine. Big Mac? Fine. Large Fry? Fine. Double scoop sundae covered in high-fructose corn syrup, whipped cream, and cherries from Braum's? Fine. Tacos from Taco Bell that have "just enough animal "products" in them to keep them from being vegan? Fine.

Is anyone else confused?

But okay. I'll play. No soda (Not that I would have brought that to her anyway).

So I get to school with my baked potato and take a look at her plate.

I nearly had a stroke.

Elementary students purchasing a "nutritious lunch" from our local, state funded school district yesterday received:

1. Mini corn dogs at 320 calories/serving. Approximately 56.2% of these calories come from fat, 32.5% from carbohydrates, and 10% from protein. This is 18% of a person's RDA of fat.

2. Tortilla Chips at 140 calories/serving. Approximately 45% of these calories come from fat, 54% from carbs, and 5 % from protein. 11% of a person's RDA of fat.

3. Nacho Cheese Sauce at 181 calories/serving. Approximately 65% of these calories come from fat, 24% from carbs, and are you sitting down? O% of these calories come from protein!! Seriously??? It's cheese sauce! Shouldn't that have some protein?? A whopping 20% of a person's RDA of fat.

4. Chocolate Milk at 220 calories/serving. Approximately 33% of these calories come from fat, 50% from carbs, and 15% from protein. 12% of a person's RDA of fat.

This meal was rounded out with a "vegetable"--canned corn, and a "fruit"--canned applesauce.

Newsflash--corn is not a "yellow vegetable." Squash is a yellow vegetable. Corn is a grain. Canned applesauce where the second ingredient is sugar, isn't a fruit. It's dessert.

So...if my calculations are correct, a child eating his/her entire "main course" at school and finishing the "beverage," consumed 861 calories and 61% of his/her RDA for fat...In. One. Meal.

And they're concerned about my kid consuming an 8 oz soda??

Just for fun, I checked into the "nutritional" analysis of a small can of Barq's Root Beer:

160 total calories. 0 grams of fat.

And we wonder why there's an obesity problem in America and a fast food joint on every corner. Because people have been eating that crap for 180 days of each year of their lives since they were five.

And I completely forgot to include the chocolate, chocolate chip cookie!!

Mercy!!

2011-03-15T22:47:00.002-05:00

I just posted a comment on a friend's blog. And you know the security "word" that you have to type in to verify that you aren't some random computer virus posting comments on people's blogs?

This was what I got to type in:

minegod

Which is a little bit freaky...but I'll get to that in a minute.

Ever since school started in August, I have had the kind of year that if I sat down and disclosed the whole thing...the no holes barred...TMI...Jerry Springer gory details; people might believe I made it up.

I promise you. I am not that creative.

Some of it has been the kind of terrible that you wish you were dreaming so you could wake up and it would be over.

Some of it has been so amazing that I would do it again in a heartbeat--even if it meant the same outcome.

I won't lie. Some of it I willingly brought upon myself.

Some of it other people and other situations dumped in my lap.

I'm beginning to believe that I am one of those people to whom drama and chaos are magnetically attracted.

And I'm tapped out. Spent. Done. As in, "stick a fork in me--I am D.O.N.E. Done"

Yet the hits still keep coming. Today at 4:30, My boss announced that he is resigning effective June 30. I know, bosses resign all of the time, but my boss created this school I work for. I can't imagine it run by anyone else. I can't fathom what that will look like. And frankly, it's just one more thing.

As I was running this evening, I started thinking about that game you play when you're a kid...you know...where you hold hands with someone and the object is to bend his/her fingers back far enough that they cry, "Mercy!"?

I realized I've been trying to play that game with God. My life...my will...my decisions...I can handle it...my terms. Against His.

See...I'm a control freak. Which is why "minegod" was so freaky-funny. That's how I've been. Mine, God. MY life. MY decisions. MY choices. You can come along for the ride if you like, but this ship will be captained by ME.

And for awhile, it seemed to be working. Kind of like when you push against your opponent's hands and you feel a give and think you just might win this one?

It occurred to me today that I can play this game with God for a long time, and I may even feel like I'm in the lead, but ultimately, I'm not winning this one.

So there you have it. My cry of "Mercy!"

Because truly?? I'd rather just have God hold my hands and have us walk this road together--regardless of the outcome, or what it looks like to everyone else.

So maybe the next time I decide I need to put my two cents worth in on someone's blog, the security "word" that pops up will be

fineGod.

Greats from the Gilmores

2011-02-11T22:57:00.003-06:00

To say that Mik and I love Gilmore Girls is an understatement.

So instead of the crazy that runs around in my head on any given day, she and I thought we'd switch it up and treat you to some of our favorite quotes and conversations from one of the greatest mother-daughter duos ever--besides us, of course! :)

Lorelai: Does he have a motorcycle? If you're gonna throw your life away, he'd better have a motorcycle!

Lorelai: Stop saying mother like that.
Rory: Like what?
Lorelai: Like there's supposed to be another word after it.

Max: You are like a mythological creature that casts some kind of spell on me and makes me act stupid. I'm not stupid. I don't act stupid with anyone else.

Emily: We have not been waiting forever.
Lorelai: Godot was just here. He said ‘I ain’t waiting for Richard,’ grabbed a roll, and left. It’s been forever.

Lorelai: The plural of cul-de-sac is culs-de-sac? That doesn't even sound like English.
Richard: That's because it's French.

Jason: I'm officially taking the one hour I have off to go to the driving range to hit golf balls to try to improve my sucky game, thereby redeeming myself in your father's eyes.
Lorelai: I like the use of 'sucky' and 'thereby' in the same sentence.

Lorelai: Huh. You know what I just realized? Oy is the funniest word in the entire world.
Rory: Huh.
Lorelai: I mean, think about it. You never hear the word oy and not smile. Impossible. Funny, funny word.
Emily: Oh, dear God.
Lorelai: Poodle is another funny word.
Emily: Please drink your drink, Lorelai.
Lorelai: In fact, if you put oy and poodle together in the same sentence, you'd have a great new catch phrase, you know? Like, ‘oy with the poodles already.’ So from now on, when the perfect circumstances arise, we will use our favorite new catch phrase.
Rory: Oy with the poodles already.
Lorelai: I'm telling you, it's knocking 'whatcha talking 'bout, Willis?' right out of first place.
Emily: Lorelai, for God's sake, be quiet.

Lorelai: You know, this is pretty much what I thought heaven would look like. There might have been a unicorn in the corner, but basically – yeah, this is it.

Lorelai: And whipped cream, and dental floss, and paper towels, and People Magazine. We're really hungry.

Logan: This cloak and dagger stuff is kinda tricky. Especially if you don't own a dagger and you look funny in a cloak.

Rory: Peeled to death. That’s a bad way to go.

Lorelai: Which one says, "Hi, I'm not a whore, enjoy your day"?
Rory: The pink one.

Lorelai: Lorelai Gilmore, disappointing mothers since 1968.

Emily: My first trip to Europe, I went to Paris and stayed at the Ritz.
Lorelai: Well, I tell you what, if it’ll make you happy, we’ll go to Paris and eat out of their dumpster.

Lorelai: Where does your mom think you are?
Lane: On a park bench, contemplating the reunification of the two Koreas.
Lorelai: Not here, skanking to Rancid?
Lane: Wouldn’t be included.

Luke: The counter is a sacred space. My sacred space. You don't do yoga on the Dalai Lama's mat. And you don't come behind my counter.

Rory: I live in two worlds. One is a world of books. I've been a resident of Faulkner's Yoknapatawpha County, hunted the white whale aboard the Pequod, fought alongside Napoleon, sailed a raft with Huck and Jim, committed absurdities with Ignatius J. Reilly, rode a sad train with Anna Karenina, and strolled down Swann's Way. It's a rewarding world, but my second one is by far superior. My second one is populated with characters slightly less eccentric but supremely real, made of flesh and bone, full of love, who are my ultimate inspiration for everything.

The King's Speech

2011-01-30T23:20:00.003-06:00

Okay. If you haven't yet seen this movie, you need to.

If you need a babysitter so you can go, call me. I'll come watch your kids.

I'd offer to pay for you to go--I thought it was THAT great--but I am a poor teacher, and alas, my meager salary won't allow me to be so generous.

It's the best thing I've seen Colin Firth do, and I'm not so picky when it comes to Colin Firth. :o)

It is the story of King George VI of England, as he takes the throne after his older brother, King Edward VIII, abdicated in the 1930s to marry a divorced American. England is on the brink of war with Germany, and "Bertie," as he is called by his family, has some demons to fight to do the job that has been thrust upon him.

I'll bet we see it nominated for some Academy Awards next year.

The movie was poignant and funny, and I am fascinated by that time period in history.

I cried at the end because it was so moving, but also because I wanted nothing more than to be able to sit at the white counter in my grandmother's kitchen on these incredibly heavy wrought-iron bar stools that she had, with a cup of coffee in a glass mug (her favorite way to drink coffee was in a glass mug) and ask her to share her memories of that time with me. And I can't.

Time is marching on, and the number of people who can give first-person accounts of that period of history are becoming fewer and fewer.

I wonder...will my children be as fascinated with the 60s and 70s as I am with the 30s, 40s, and 50s? Will my children, as adults, long to sit at my mom's or my dad's table in their kitchens and ask them to share what it was like to live during the civil rights movement? What went through their minds when Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon? Or how it felt to see school mates and friends drafted to fight in a war many weren't sure we should be fighting?

I think they will. And I hope they do.

Maybe I should dig out Apollo 13 and we should watch it this week, just to get the ball rolling.

A Tear in the Space-Time Continuum

2011-01-13T17:15:00.003-06:00

Or maybe the tear is just in my heart.

Remember my earlier post about making some decisions?

I sit here next to a stack of forms. Forms, that when I fill them out, will complete the process of enrolling my three youngest children in the local brick and mortar school.

If you are just peeking at this blog for the first time, I have (up until today) been a home educator. My oldest daughter attends the local high school, but she was schooled at home until just a few years ago.

My three youngest children, grades 3, 5, and 7 have never been schooled anywhere except in my home.

Over the past couple of days, I made the gut-wrenching decision to change this aspect of my family life. And it is a B-I-G, big change for me.

You see, essentially every adult decision I have made--every thing that defines my life and who I am, is related to my children. Everything from my marriage(full-term baby born six months to the day from my wedding day)...to my dear friend, Julie (we got to be close because she needed to do a paper for a college class on a young family)...to the very job I hold (teacher in the virtual school that my children currently attend)is because of my children.

And with the exception of a nine-month teaching job when my oldest was one, my children have been with me or very near me all day, essentially Every. Single. Day. since I was one month shy of turning twenty-two.

So why am I making this change?

Lots and lots and lots of reasons. Some are simple, and some are incredibly complicated.

It boils down to the fact that I am passionate about education. I believe education should be excellent for all children. And right now, the education that I am providing for three of the four most important people in my world is far from excellent.

I have agonized over this, cried over it, and lost sleep over it. Mostly, I feel incredibly guilty.

But I realized that I will feel guilty no matter what.

If I keep them home, I'll feel guilty that I'm not providing them with the education they deserve.

If I send them to school, I'll feel guilty that I couldn't hack it. That I folded my cards and got out of the game. That I'm allowing other, more urgent, things in my life to come before my children.

But at least in the second scenario, my kids will be educated while I feel guilty.

And I hope that with this decision, I am not single-handedly causing the Demise of the Universe.

Or worse...the demise of my children.

Making Decisions??? So far, not really a fan.

2011-01-07T12:49:00.002-06:00

I am having a very ADD day.

I should be working. I should be medicated. I should be medicated, so I CAN be working.

Instead, bizarre thoughts are running around in my head making it very hard to concentrate on work.

So instead of fighting it, I'm just going to go with it. I am going to take my "union sanctioned" 20 minute lunch break and jot down all that is running through my head right now. Then maybe I can get back to work.

~"Union Sanctioned" 20 Minute Lunch Breaks~
According to the NEA, I am entitled to a 20 (or maybe it's 25) minute lunch break that is "duty free." This means that this lunch should be free of being responsible for students. Why has no one told my own children this?

~Solving For and Graphing Inequalities~
I'm surprised that I still remembered how to do this after all of these years. I even remembered that you have to switch the sign if you have a negative variable. But I can't for the life of me understand WHY switching the sign makes the inequality...equal??? Why are we solving for an inequality, anyway?

~Yoga Pants~
I love yoga pants. They are incredibly comfortable. I think that's the point. They're supposed to be comfortable so that you can do yoga in them. This also makes them great for sitting at your computer all day and working from home. However, as I gave myself a once-over in the full length mirror on Wednesday, I realized that there's a huge problem with yoga pants. They show panty lines. This is less of a problem for around the house, but if I have to wear them with a thong to go out in public, doesn't that defeat the main purpose of the pants--i.e. comfort?

~Dreaded Discussions With Children~
The son of a friend of a friend took his own life the other day. I was not prepared for how hard that discussion with my two teenaged children was going to be. I hope they heard me. I hope they listened. I hope they feel like they can talk to me if things seem bad. I hope they know that if the don't feel like they can talk to me, they have a myriad of other people who love them and will help them. I hope they know how important it is to let an adult know if one of their friends or acquaintances ever seems to be headed down that road. Because the stakes are just too high if they don't. And my heart is breaking for this family.

~Jack Johnson~
I love Jack Johnson. He comes up on Pandora quite a bit. I need to get more of his music.

~Pandora~
What is it with Pandora and the Beatles? No matter what radio station I create, they ALL wind up playing Beatles songs. Even the Broadway Showtunes station. Why IS that?

~Notebooks and Bananas~
I bought a new notebook at Target the other day. It is supposed to be better for the environment, so the paper isn't made from tree pulp. It's made from some part of bananas?? This is, in my opinion, the very best use for a banana. And I really like the way my pen feels on the paper. Target also had some notebooks with paper made out of rocks...or stuff from rocks. I'm not kidding. Those notebook pages looked, felt, and smelled like rocks. I'm glad I went with the one made from bananas.

~Tamiflu~
Brian got Influenza over Winter Break. The MD put the entire family on Tamiflu. Holy Cow!! I could rent a small apartment for a month for the $$ I spent on Tamiflu for my entire family. Why is there not a generic? What happens if we don't finish all ten days (besides being really bad stewards with the monthly rent for a small apartment)? Is it like an antibiotic? Will we mutate influenza germs making them more resistant to Tamiflu? What does Tamiflu do, exactly? Did I need to take it at all?

~Wise Words~
A friend of mine sent me an email a few weeks ago. It contained this gem:
"You'd be amazed how easy it is to do the right things when you don't have a choice."

Hmmm

There's something to ponder.

The First Post of 2011

2011-01-05T19:19:00.004-06:00

I've been putting this blog post off.

The dreaded "resolution" blog post.

I'm too lazy to link to them, but I've done posts on resolutions in the past.

I've made bona fide resolutions and put them in cyber-space, hoping that would keep me committed. It didn't.

I've made resolutions I didn't at all want to keep in hopes that the actual making of a resolution and putting it in cyber-space would have that same effect and those would also fail.

This didn't work, either. The resolutions to be more snippy with my children, less organized, gain ten pounds, let my Bible gather dust in the corner...I managed to keep all of those. I even exceeded my expectations on some of them.

So this year, I am making just one resolution.

I am going to make some decisions.

I am terrible at making decisions.

I hate to pick out movies or restaurants.
I can't choose between white wine or red.
Should I be wearing skinny jeans or boot cut? Neither? Both??
I can't choose a church, grocery store, or land on the perfect place for my kids to go to school.

Now this decision malady isn't really interesting, and it probably befalls lots of people.

But it is intriguing to me because I think I am possibly the most opinionated person on the planet.

I have opinions on all of the above things. Lots of them (And it goes without saying that my opinions are right :o) ).

There are types of movies I like and kinds I don't. Same with restaurants. I know that you drink white wine when eating chicken and fish and red when eating beef. I think skinny jeans only looked good on about five people in the eighties when they were called "tapered" and I don't think much has changed since then (and I am probably not one of those five people), but I also think boot cut jeans look stupid tucked into Uggs.

I also tend toward the black and white. The rule following. The "one right way to do something." And this is part of what paralyzes me about making decisions.

My brain also has this morbid habit of playing "if this...then this." And I will play this game in my mind until I have single-handedly caused the demise of the Universe with my (of course WRONG) decision.

The problem is, I can cause the demise of the Universe by choosing either white wine, or red.

Consequently, I avoid making decisions at all costs.

But really, not making a decision is a decision.

So this year, I am going to evaluate, make pro-con lists, seek advice, pray, and take a deep and terrifying breath and...

Make. Some. Decisions.

I'll let you know how it goes.

My Favorite Day of the Year

2010-12-22T15:36:00.004-06:00

Okay...birthdays of loved ones notwithstanding.

My favorite day of the year isn't Christmas--although I'm sure it was when I was a kid. And it isn't the last day of the school year, although that would be a VERY close second. :o)

My favorite day of the year is today. December 22. I know this is odd. On the surface, there's nothing unique about it at all. It is close to Christmas, but not really close enough to be considered part of the festivities. Usually it's a day filled with a lot of work yet to be done...a lot of crowds if you have to be out...and a lot of travel. If you live where I do, it is also usually COLD.

But something really tiny...yet really amazing happens on December 22 every year.

You see, I really dislike winter. I dislike cold, and snow, and it getting dark outside shortly after 5 pm. I don't like bulky winter coats, or stocking hats, or boots. I am terrified to try snow skiing, and I would much prefer to stay at home and bake cookies and warm up the homemade cocoa for the crazies that enjoy that stuff than to go sledding or make snowmen. I also think that wintertime, and cold weather, and "little daylight" brings out the melancholy in me. I think the medical term is "seasonal affective disorder."

A week ago, the length of daylight where I live was nine hours and thirty-one minutes. Yesterday, the length of daylight was nine hours and twenty-nine minutes.

Yesterday, the sun set at 5:13pm. Today, sunset is predicted for 5:14pm. And that one little minute is the amazing thing that happens on this day.

Today is the day that slowly--increment by tiny little increment--the days get just a little bit longer. It isn't really even noticeable at all. I mean, the first "official" day of winter was yesterday, which means I have A L-O-T, lot of days ahead of me that are going to be cold and gloomy with not very much daylight and potential bad weather.

But today is a tiny promise that change is on the horizon. A promise that darkness and cold and winter won't last. The days will get noticeably longer and the temperature will eventually get warmer, and spring and summer will arrive again for another season.

And even though I think that the many of the ancient cultures of the world missed the boat by worshiping the creation rather than the Creator, who in His wisdom, ordered the turning of the planet and the placement of the stars in the universe for times and seasons and years; I can understand why they wanted to celebrate this particular time of year.

Because it really is pretty amazing.

Okay...I Didn't Die

2010-12-14T17:40:00.002-06:00

I had two friends ask me last week if I actually died, since it's been awhile since I've written anything here. :o)

Answer...wait for it...No. I didn't die.

I ran the race and met my goals of:
finishing
running the entire way--no stopping to walk (there'll be another post in the future about how it's irritating to see people stop and walk in a race and STILL finish ahead of you).
crossing the finish line in some other place besides dead last.

And I actually enjoyed it. I'm contemplating training for another. And maybe a marathon next October.

As for my silence here, I apologize. I have no idea what to write about.

For all intents and purposes, life is just trucking on.

My oldest got her braces off last week. Her smile is beautiful, and she's doing it so much more these days. That's nice.

My thirteen-year old son is just centimeters shorter than I am. His feet and hands are bigger than mine, his voice is deeper than mine, and he's getting a mustache. He does NOT want a razor. Believe me--I've asked him. He thinks the mustache is cool. It makes me want to cry.

My third child finally got his long-awaited puppy. This means I got a puppy. I don't want a puppy. I don't do puppies. How long until this puppy is a calm, house-broken, adult dog that just lies in the corner somewhere? Currently, my land line phone is inoperable because of a chewing puppy. Now I get to make a trip to Radio Shack. Babies are easier than puppies. I do N-O-T, not want one of those, either, but I'm just sayin'...

My youngest turned nine. Nine. Still trying to get my mind around that one.

Four more days until winter break from school. I don't think I've looked forward to Christmas break this much since I was a student. I feel like a senior in high school--with countdown lists and big red Xes on my calendar.

The weather is too cold and the daylight is too short. My hands, feet, and nose got cold in October. They should be warm again in May. There are a lot of days between now and May.

Temperatures in the teens with wind chill factors that put said temperatures in the single digits = me thinking about purchasing a treadmill. I don't want to run on a treadmill. It will make me feel like a hamster on a wheel. But I want to continue to have a working relationship with my jeans, so something's gotta give. I'm guessing it's going to be my refusal to run on a treadmill.

Apparently my cat likes cheese. I had no reason to think this before. My children have dropped cheese on the kitchen floor countless times. I've found it, days later, hard as a rock with oil beads all over it. This has led me to the conclusion that my cat doesn't like cheese, as she doesn't eat it off of my kitchen floor. Apparently my cat only likes cheese that is paired with a Granny Smith apple sitting ON THE PLATE RIGHT NEXT TO ME as I write this!!! Spoiled Brat Cat that obviously has no interest in living very long!

Well, that's it...a whole blog post about pretty much nothing.

The Seinfeld of blog posts.

The End...Maybe

2010-11-20T11:23:00.003-06:00

This might be my last blog post.

This is because by mid-morning tomorrow, I may very well be dead.

In a fit of insanity several months ago, I agreed to run a half-marathon tomorrow with my friend, Some Kind of Jennifer. The fees have been paid; the bags are packed; the two youngest children are excited to accompany me and have a "much too long awaited" reunion with their friends; and we are ready to head out to the "City of Fountains" (or more appropriately, a suburb of it) so that I can run in a crazy race the weekend before Thanksgiving where I just may meet my maker.

If this indeed happens, will someone please make sure my children get back home?

Thanks!

Fish Out of Water

2010-10-14T22:09:00.004-05:00

I've been running lately. I know...most people think this is crazy. But it actually keeps me from going crazy. And I've been putting the miles on my running shoes. I'm not ready to run any marathons, but my weekly mileage hasn't been too pitiful.

I had gotten into a nice groove of running 4-5 days during the work week and getting up early on Sundays to do a long run before church. A couple of Sundays ago, I accomplished 13 miles. And believe me, my legs and feet paid me back for the rest of that day and all of the following Monday.

I expected this, and didn't think much of it, until late Tuesday, when I realized that my legs and left foot had gotten over their irritation with me, but my right foot was still holding a grudge. It was swollen and every step made me wince in pain. This prompted a trip to the MD, where I bought myself a foot x-ray and a diagnosis of stress fracture.

"No weight-bearing exercise for at least two weeks," the PA told me.

I waited expectantly for the prescription that I expected should be forthcoming...for Zoloft, or Prozac, or Xanax.

In this moment, I was reminded of the line from the movie Legally Blonde, where Reese Witherspoon says, "Exercise releases endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people don't shoot their husbands." (Not that shooting Brian was ever on my radar...just needed to put that in print...:o) )

But the sentiment is true about exercise, so I figured if I wasn't going to release endorphins for the next two weeks, the least the doctor could do for me is to give me some chemical seratonin boosters.

Not so much.

So I asked, "What kind of exercise can I do?" I was hoping for a green light for biking, elliptical machine, even stationary biking. But no. The dreaded proclamation came:

"You can swim."

A little history, here--I can swim. As in when-I'm-in-a-pool-I-can-keep-myself-afloat-with-something-that-resembles-swimming. But I have never really been a fan. Probably this goes back to the fact that it took me nearly three years to pass Red Cross Level One swimming lessons when I was a kid because I didn't want to swim the length of the pool. I also really like to breathe when I exercise, and I want to be able to let my mind wander. I don't want to have to concentrate on staying afloat so that the 15 year old lifeguard at the Y who is half my size doesn't have to ruin her hair by jumping in to save me.

So my choices boiled down to "take two weeks off" which my jeans and my resting heart rate of 55 were not going to be happy about, or dig out the swimming suit and goggles and make a fool of myself at the Y.

And to add to this decision, I agreed to run a half-marathon in November with my dear friend, Some Kind of Jennifer. And if she can be hit by a car on her scooter and a week later plan to run a marathon, I certainly am not going to leave her hanging at the starting line on Nov. 21.

So I'm swimming. I'm still not a fan. It's way worse than running on a track and even worse than running on a treadmill. Back and forth, back and forth. I've never had an hour pass so slowly!

But it does have its upside(s): 1. At least my cardio-vascular system will remember what a workout feels like when I can get back on the road; 2. I'm sore in some places that I really really needed to be sore.

Now the funny part in all of this?? I asked my fifteen year old ballet dancer if she'd like to join me and swim, too. Misery loves company.

Please note, this kid has danced 3+ days a week for at least 4 years now. She lives in leotards. Her response?

"No thanks. I wouldn't be caught dead in a swimming suit."

I Feel Done In

2010-10-13T16:19:00.002-05:00

So I've got Pandora set on Quick Mix--where it shuffles through songs based on your radio stations--and the song that starts playing??

"I Feel Done In" by Kevin Seconds.

I think Pandora is way better at predicting what my life is like on any given day than my horoscope is.

Truths for Mature People

2010-10-06T12:44:00.002-05:00

(So why am I at all associated with this title, you ask? Excellent question.)

I did not write this. My dear friend, Julie, sent it to me. You may have seen it floating around in an email. But I loved it too much not to repost it here.

I would give credit to whomever originally authored it...if I had any idea who did. Enjoy!

1. I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.

2. Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

3. I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

4. There is great need for a sarcasm font.

5. How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

6. Was learning cursive really necessary?

7. Map Quest really needs to start their directions on step 5.
I'm pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

8. Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

9. I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

10. Bad decisions make good stories.

11. You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you just aren't going to
do anything productive for the rest of the day.

12. Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray?
I don't want to have to restart my collection...again.

13. I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it
asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten-page technical
report that I swear I did not make any changes to.

14. I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

15. I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

16. I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lite than 'K.'

17. I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

18. How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear or understand a word they said?

19. I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars team up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers and sisters!

20. Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever. Guess how this fits????

21. Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

22. Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, finding their cell phone, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey - but I'd bet everyone can find and push the snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time, every time!

23. The first testicular guard, the "Cup," was used in Hockey in 1874 and the first helmet was used in 1974.
That means it only took 100 years for men to realize that their brain is also important.

Off the Wagon...

2010-09-28T21:44:00.003-05:00

Bookstores are for me what a liquor store is for an alcoholic.

I am addicted to the printed word.

Books will cause me to neglect my children--allowing them instead to watch brain-cell destroying amounts of television. I have been known to lose entire weekends to a well-written series AND--gasp--I must confess to having perfected the art of reading while driving, although thanks to audiobooks available via iTunes and the decent selection of them at the public library--I don't do this anymore. I don't go through people's medicine cabinets in their bathrooms, but I will shamelessly peruse their bookshelves.

And since I will read myself into a sleepless drunken stupor if I get started, I have to be very purposeful to stay away from books when I cannot safely get lost in one.

This is a really bad condition to have when one is a teacher, by the way, as books are kind of part of the whole educational experience.

So...since school has started and life is extremely busy right now, I have avoided any reading material that isn't absolutely necessary for me to do my job. And of course, this also means avoiding places where books can be purchased. I have stayed off of Amazon.com. I purposely let the battery on my Kindle run down and I put it away in a drawer. And I absolutely do NOT step foot into a bookstore.

I fell off of the wagon today.

It happened while my youngest was at dance class. I was driving aimlessly around town when I found myself in the bookstore parking lot.

"I'll just go in for a minute." I told myself. "I won't buy anything. I just want to see the titles. I just want to smell the paper and the ink. I won't be any longer than ten minutes. I swear. I don't have time to read."

But there were bins of books for $2.99 outside the front door. And it was a beautiful fall afternoon--perfect for perusing titles in search of a fabulous find.

Anyway...much, MUCH more than ten minutes later I emerged. And now, sitting in a stack on the counter in my office is the evidence of my moment of weakness:

The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio: How My Mother Raised 10 Kids on 25 Words or Less--by Terry Ryan (I've already READ this--but I don't own a copy and I couldn't pass it up for only $2.99!)

Essentials of Evidence-Based Academic Interventions--by Barbara J. Wendling and Nancy Mather

A Home in the Heart of a City: A Woman's Search for Community--by Kathleen Hirsch

She Got Up Off the Couch And Other Heroic Acts from Moreland, Indiana--by Haven Kimmel (Not ONLY have I already READ this one, but I OWN a digital copy on my Kindle! Good Grief!)

Failing America's Faithful: How Today's Churches Are Mixing God with Politics and Losing Their Way--by Kathleen Kennedy Townsend

Teaching Literary Elements with Favorite Chapter Books--by Immacula A Rhodes

The Holy Bible New Revised Standard Version with the Apocrypha (And it's not like we don't have Bibles around here. But I didn't have an RSV with the Apocrypha. Seriously.)

And this, Dear Reader, is why I work full-time. To finance my book habit.

Is there a 12-step program for a reading addiction?

NOW I get it...

2010-09-23T14:05:00.005-05:00

While eating a snack of Annie's Homegrown Bunny Grahams today, My daughter came across this one:

So THAT's how all of those other bunnies got in the box!!

Whatsoever Things Are Lovely...

2010-09-19T15:31:00.003-05:00

I am blessed. I know that I am. These days it has been easy to forget that. It's been too easy to dwell on what I don't have, instead of what I do.

So here's a list of all of the lovely that's been in my life as of late:

~Watching my boys field fly balls with their buddies on a Friday afternoon, just because there's nothing they'd rather be doing than playing baseball.

~Receiving in the mail--after a goofy facebook post--a box from the Lindt & Sprungli Company, containing a delicious care package, because a sweet colleague thinks "I work too hard" to eat mushrooms instead of chocolate.

~Early morning runs in 60 degree weather with a light mist that clears up just in time to see the sun rise.

~Unexpected, treasured moments with a very dear friend.

~The hug my eight-year old has to give me EVERY SINGLE TIME I walk out our front door. As I am usually running late, this slows me down some, but I have older children. And I know all too well that she won't always do that.

~Kneeling in a sanctuary with sunlight streaming through stain-glassed windows, praying:
"Most Merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against You in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved You with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent. For the sake of Your Son, Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us; that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways, to the glory of Your Name. Amen"

~Hearing these words spoken over me:
"Almighty God have mercy on you and forgive you all your sins through our Lord Jesus Christ, strengthen you in all goodness, and by the power of the Holy Spirit, keep you in eternal life. Amen."

~Laughing with my thirteen-year-old son.

~Anything sung by Michael Bublé on the radio or Pandora.

~Watching my brother give (in my opinion) his best theatrical performance ever.

~Spending the afternoon with my fifteen-year-old daughter--shopping and laughing and singing (badly, in my case) to all of my crazy music during the drive.

~The fact that my daughter is now proficient enough behind the wheel that I can relax and text a friend while SHE drives.

~Listening to children getting along in the back of the car instead of arguing.

~Knowing, that even if for just a small moment in space and time, I have experienced everything my heart has ever desired.

...Meditate on These Things.~ Philippians 4:8

Quippy Quotes

2010-09-15T09:59:00.005-05:00

As promised--a break from introspection ad nauseaum, and a return to the lighter side of life.

"Mom! You really need to get more sleep. It keeps you from wanting to kill your children in the mornings"--fifteen year-old

*Author's note: I have NEVER EVER wanted to kill my children. I just would like said child to be out of the one shower we have by the time I get home from my morning workout. That's all.

"Yeah! And you should sleep more, Mommy, because you need it to make you PRETTY."--eight year-old

*Author's note: Lovely. And so optimistic, that youngest daughter of mine.

"I just killed a fly! With my grammar book! Best use I've found for that thing ALL YEAR!!"--eleven year-old

*Author's note: Again, Lovely. Glad to see the headway I'm making on that goal I have of instilling a love of life-long learning in my children.

"What if we were all numbers and the world was a clock?"--eight year-old

*Author's note: ??????!

"Well, I guess I know everything then."--thirteen year-old
"Thirteen year-olds always think they know everything."--Me
"Yes, but I have the hair to prove it!!"--thirteen year-old

*Author's note--Thirteen year-old has had a section of hair on the back of his head that has been grey since he was about two. Come to think of it, that's about when he started thinking he was smarter than the parents in his house. There may be some thing to this "grey hair" thing after all...

Where the Stars Shine Brightest

2010-09-13T23:26:00.005-05:00

There is a stretch of road on one of my running routes that has no street lights.

None.

And as my runs usually occur after dark, there is about a half mile stretch where there is no sidewalk and I can literally see 2 feet in front of me.

If.

Now because where I live is so unbelievably flat, I can also see where the street lights start up again.

So for this half mile, I run blindly in the dark, trying to keep my eyes on the lights ahead and the safety and security that I know is coming.

And as I happen to glance up at the pitch black night sky on this stretch, I notice that the stars shine brighter in this spot than in any other.

And that's something.

The Freedom Trail

2010-09-05T23:02:00.002-05:00

Over the weekend, I had roughly four daylight hours to spend in Boston, MA. As I had never been in this particular city before, the paralyzing question loomed before me: What to do, what to do with my four hours?

After perusing the "touristy" map in my hotel room, I decided on the Freedom Trail--a 2.5 mile tour of many of the events leading up to the American Revolution. I'm a geeky history buff, after all, and that would take me around a nice portion of city, plus give me a decent 4+ mile walk from one end to the other and back again.

So armed with a map, a cup of coffee (it was a bit chilly at 9am)and my camera, I set off to see the places that up until today, I had only read about in history books.

The State House, the site of the Boston Massacre, Paul Revere's home, the Old South Meetinghouse, Bunker Hill, Boston Common, the site of the first public school, and the Old North Church were amazing sights to behold. As I approached the Old North Church, the bells were signalling 11am Episcopal mass--if ONLY I could've had another hour at my disposal! :o)

But the thing that was probably the most moving for me was the Granary Burying Ground. It is the final resting place for Benjamin Franklin's parents, Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and Paul Revere, as well as those who died in the Boston Massacre, plus hundreds of other people who lived their lives in Colonial America and in the United States as a brand-new country.

I thought about these people--living their lives in Boston in the late 1700s. Looking around at their situations and circumstances, and wanting something better for themselves and for their children. And I thought about what they are still remembered for today. For some, it's one or two small moments, while others seemed to be so much more in the thick of the action.

I thought about what John Hancock is remembered for--having the largest signature on The Declaration of Independence. And I thought about what that really meant in 1776. I was always amused by the story that he wanted King George to be able to see it without the aid of his spectacles. I of course thought he was gutsy. But today, the significance really hit me. Those 56 men who signed the Declaration of Independence didn't live in the world in which we live. They weren't just voicing their opinions about what they would like changed, or writing a letter to the editor of the local paper. They were committing treason against the King of England. An offense that was punishable by death. And an offense that ultimately lead to a war.

And this is where my school teacher plug about the importance of teaching world history chronologically comes in: We cannot possibly understand the depth of what our forefathers did for their beliefs if we don't understand what it was like to live in Europe under a monarchy in the 17th and 18th century...and in Feudal Europe before that...and the Roman Empire before that...and...

Did our forefathers get it perfectly right? Of course not. They were, for all intents and purposes, respected, wealthy, land-owning white men who wanted freedom from the king. Freedom for white land-owning males. Yes, these men were flawed. Many owned slaves. They took land unfairly from the Native Americans. And yes, it would take 100+ more years before slavery would be illegal and before women would be able to vote. It would take nearly 200 more years before civil rights would begin to change the way minorities in this country are treated.

But in each of these instances, flawed people held ideals. They held a vision of something better--something bigger than themselves to believe in, work toward, and put their lives on the line for. And after they made their mark...whether it was Benjamin Franklin and John Hancock, or Susan B. Anthony, or Martin Luther King, Jr., the world was a little bit better of a place for what they had accomplished.

And the lesson for me in all of this is twofold:

1. We have not arrived. Let me say that again. We. Have. Not. Arrived. There is still much work to be done. And there are people out there, trying to do it. There is still poverty and hunger and sickness and an educational crisis and an environmental one. And over 200 years ago, when there was a taxation without representation crisis, there were people who wanted to fix it, and people who thought things were fine and didn't want anything changed. I don't want to be in the second group. We are on the brink of change. It's scary and uncertain, but I am hopeful that when we emerge from it, things will be better. Not perfect, but better.

2. What is my passion? What is my ideal? What is the thing that I would sign my name on so largely that people who have the power to end my life (or at least make it difficult) could see it without their contacts in? And when am I going to get busy and do something about it?

*Author's Note* I would like to thank my reader (s?) for patiently putting up with my introspection as of late. And I promise to return to quippy blog posts about the goings on of my four children and our little life here in the Midwest very soon!

Playlist

2010-09-02T22:38:00.002-05:00

I had one of those rare running experiences this evening. I can always tell--within the first three blocks of feet hitting the pavement--what kind of run it is going to be. Usually, it's the "There's-no-possible-way-I'm-going-to-finish-this-without-Divine-intervention" run. Shockingly, tonight's workout wasn't like that. This was a "Gosh-I-actually-feel-like-a-runner" run. There could be several reasons for this.

Possibly it was due to the fact that it was a delicious 67 degrees outside with almost no wind.

But I think more than anything, it was probably the playlist.

I can't run without tunes.

Now I'm not one of those people who creates a million playlists for different things. Seriously. I like all my music, so I set the thing on shuffle and head on my way. But frankly, some of it isn't really the "get up and go" type stuff that's suitable for running. But tonight was just a really fabulous cocktail of great running music. I didn't have to skip through any of it--which is shocking.

And since none of the other thoughts taking residence in my brain are at all appropriate for this blog :o) and I'm sure my mom is wanting a new post, I'll treat you to my playlist from this evening:

Let's Hear it for the Boy--Deniece Williams

Why Can't We Be Friends?--War

Those Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer--Nat "King" Cole

Puttin' on the Ritz--Taco

Copacabana--Barry Manilow

Centerfield--John Fogerty

I Got You Babe--Sonny and Cher

Our Last Summer--Abba

You're My Best Friend--Queen

Kodachrome--Simon and Garfunkel

Thoroughly Modern Millie--Original Broadway Cast

Marrakesh Express--Crosby, Stills and Nash

Looks Like We Made It--Barry Manilow

Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard--Simon and Garfunkel

Knowing Me, Knowing You--Abba

Crowning Glory--Julie Andrews and Raven

Eternal Flame--The Bangles

Red Red Wine--UB40

And I'm always looking for new good music...so I'll take any suggestions you have...

Eleven is a Pretty Lucky Number, Too!

2010-08-27T10:00:00.003-05:00

Actually, when I was a child, eleven was my favorite number. I'm not sure why...but I really looked forward to being eleven. Maybe because it finally made me old enough that I couldn't hold up fingers to show someone my age. :o)

So Corbin, (where have the eleven years gone, and PLEASE don't let the next eleven slip by so fast!) in honor of your eleventh birthday, allow me to travel down memory lane to share eleven of the many many memories that I have of you:

1. Taking your dad to the place where he asked me to marry him to tell him I was pregnant with you.

2. Hoping and praying that you would arrive into this world in time to meet my grandmother, who was in the last stages of cancer. (Thank you for cooperating and making that dream come true for me. :o) )

3. The first night we brought you home from the hospital, and you slept straight through from 11pm to 6am! I woke up PETRIFIED that something had happened to you in the night. I can count on one hand the number of times I have been so frightened.

4. What an amazing newborn you were to make the 3+ hour trip to Kansas City at less than 4 days old to meet my grandmother. She held you on her lap and you intently focused on her face more than you had on any other person up to that point. She wouldn't let me take pictures, but the image in my heart is still as clear today as it was all those years ago. And then, not much more than a week later, you graciously made a return trip with me for her funeral.

5. I remember your blue blanket which you called "Memmet." I remember losing the first one in the KCI airport when you were about 15 months old. I had a spare in McPherson, but we had to go to Carter's to buy a replacement which must not have been good enough, because it disappeared and I have never EVER been able to find it. I highly suspect you threw it away somewhere. :o)

6. Even as a crawling infant, I would find you curled up random places, sleeping. You never seemed to need me to put you down for a nap. When you were bigger and had graduated to a big boy bed, I'd go looking for you and find you curled up on your bed, napping.

7. You loved "Blue" from Blue's Clues and Buzz and Woody from Toy Story. When you had tubes put in your ears, you wore your Woody slippers and brought a Woody doll with you. The nurse even put an admissions bracelet on him and let you take him back to surgery. In recovery, you and I read the Blue's Clues book Lights On, Lights Off over and OVER again.

8. Your smile. It has always been so sweet (and sort of devious). I wonder what is going on in that amazing head of yours every time I see it!

9. You make the BEST sound effects! I don't know how you do it, but they are amazing.

10. The fact that since you were about eight, you have been able to solve math problems in your head faster than I can do them on paper. I know how much you love the fact that where math is concerned, your mother is NOT smarter than a fifth grader!

11. Last Sunday...it brought joy to my heart and made an amazing day perfect to see you with your friends, cheering on your favorite team to a pretty exciting win!

You are blessed immeasurably, my dear son, as are all who are lucky enough to be a part of your life!

Have a happy, happy birthday!

2010-08-26T15:23:00.003-05:00

Dear Capris that I have been unable to wear for the past two summers,

It was so amazing to be able to pull you out of my closet and pair you with my favorite tee shirt today! I have missed you so much!

The last time we were together, I had to lie horizontally to get you buttoned. Neither of us were comfortable, and I realized, that I had outgrown you. :o( So sadly, I let you go. And I'll confess--I've taken up company with other pairs of capris out of sheer necessity, but none has meant to me what you do.

And I just want you to know that it has all been worth it. The 5:45 am bike rides in the dark and power walks...the evening running regimen...the lack of appetite due to stress and crazy work hours...the saying no to ice cream and cheesecake...the rediscovery of salad as a meal. It's all been worth it. Because we're together. Let's make it last a long, long time.

Love,

Me

Random Happenings from Today

2010-08-24T23:21:00.003-05:00

Got a call this evening from the American Red Cross, reminding me that I signed up to give blood tomorrow at 4:30. TOTALLY spaced that off in light of everything else. So the menu for tomorrow? Water and spinach.

My thirteen-year-old son thanked me for doing his laundry today. Seriously?? I about took his temperature and I just might call the family physician to see if he can get an appointment.

I have 100 unread email messages in my work inbox. How does that happen? I check email every day. Who on earth has 100 things to say to me?

If you ever want a very memorable reason NOT to go to Wendy's or Pizza Hut to eat, pass by them on the second half of a four mile run. That's not a smell you'll forget any time soon.

My youngest daughter asks me EVERY SINGLE DAY what my favorite color is. Today's favorite color? Blue. Definitely blue.

The Color Box

2010-08-23T11:41:00.006-05:00

I opened a brand new box of 24 count Crayola crayons the other day. You know...the kind that everyone takes to elementary school? There is something about a brand new box--with all of the points perfect--pristine and untouched. Every time I look inside one of those boxes, My eyes are riveted to two crayons in particular. The black one...and the white one.

Black and white fascinate me.

In terms of pigment, white is the absence of color...or nothing. Black is a mixture of every color...or all.

In terms of light, it is the exact opposite. White is a combination of every color in the spectrum. Black is the absence of all color.

Yet the same principle resides here as well. All...or Nothing.

Personally, I like all or nothing. I like black and white. I like things to fit into neat little boxes. I am a rule follower. Black...White. You do it...or you don't. It's okay...or it isn't.

I have a very dear friend who is a seamstress that specializes in custom-made wedding dresses. From her, I have learned a couple of interesting things. The first thing I've learned is that there are many shades of white. Winter white, antique white, white that has a fine blue hue, white that has more pink...or yellow...or whatever. The second thing she shared with me was shocking. Very few people look their best in pure white. Seriously?? That's really profound when you think about it. I would guess the same is true for pure black (I'll need to find a seamstress who specializes in funeral wear to verify this :o) )

As I age, I'm learning that as comfortable as black and white are for me, there are many, many other colors in the color box (especially if you have the box of 96!). And I'm learning that life isn't black and white. It's cerulean blue and green and brick red and brown and tangerine and flamingo pink and of course...many many shades of grey. Life is messy and beautiful and calming and frustrating and passionate and painful and a myriad of other feelings and experiences and choices. And sometimes, the colors that work in my life may not be the colors that work in yours.

And I have to tell you...this learning experience is completely rocking my black and white, rule-following world.

This and That

2010-08-17T20:40:00.002-05:00

Today my youngest asked for peanut butter for a snack. I told her, "Sure!" Later, when I went upstairs, she was sitting at the kitchen table eating peanut butter off of a plate. Like it was pudding. "I'm asking for peanut butter for my BIRTHDAY!" she announced. Consider it done, Kiddo!

The boys started football practice yesterday. As I dropped them off at the curb in front of the field, I noticed parents unloading their bag chairs and their blankets,like they were planning to be there for awhile. Am I a bad mother for not staying and watching?? Am I crazy because the option to do so never occurred to me before?

I couldn't find the little disk thingy that goes in my Tupperware Quick Shake container this evening. So I had to actually get a WHISK out to combine my milk and flour for my potato soup. Irritating...

Yesterday, my fifteen-year-old and I went shopping for school supplies. I LOVE school supplies! I love the SMELL in the school supply aisle--the smell of paper and cardboard and wax crayons. And we found Mr. Sketch smelly markers!! The ones that have the brown that smells like cinnamon! I am so jazzed! I bought two boxes--one for the fifteen-year-old and one for me...I mean the eight-year-old.

There's a great line in the movie, You've Got Mail. Tom Hanks is emailing Meg Ryan and he says, "Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address."

After finding all the supplies needed to be a successful sophomore at our local high school, my daughter and I went to the greeting card section. We spent half an hour laughing hysterically at the cards. I forgot how fun that is. If you haven't done it in awhile, grab a friend and go to the nearest Target. You won't be sorry. It was only slightly disturbing that my baby girl is now old enough to get ALL of the humor contained in those missives.

Thanks to my in-laws, I have A LOT of VERY RIPE peaches. I am soliciting a quick and chemical-free way to put them up. If you know of anything, please share!

At one point today, the thermometer in my car said it was 68 degrees! 68 degrees is delicious!!

The eight year old has also decided (besides wanting peanut butter for her birthday) that she needs several plaid skirts and solid-colored t-shirts. She's instituting a uniform for herself this year. I guess the pajama uniform that this home school has adhered to for the past however-many years just isn't cutting it, anymore!

Between a Rock...and a Hard Place

2010-08-13T03:01:00.004-05:00

It's an interesting expression. Synonymous with expressions like, "Darned if you do. Darned if you don't."(paraphrase--my mother reads this blog) Or "The lesser of two evils"...that sort of thing.

Universally, I believe it is considered a negative expression. A fatalistic one. But I've been thinking this evening (morning, actually) that maybe it doesn't have to be completely negative, depending on the circumstances.

Maybe it's cozy and safe between the rock and the hard place. Maybe it's sheltered from the elements. Maybe the rock is hard, and the hard place is...wait for it...hard, but the ground between the two is soft. Maybe the person between the rock and the hard place is so neatly and seamlessly fit between those places, that he/she has no idea it's an uncomfortable or undesirable place. Maybe he or she is able to go long periods of time not even feeling the oppressing presence of either the rock or the hard place. That wouldn't be so bad. I'd imagine that the rock only feels oppressive when paired with the hard place. Without the hard place, the rock is security, shelter, shade, something to climb and explore. It's simply a rock. Or even better, it's all the beauty and majesty and wonder that a good rock can be.

The problem therein lies when eventually, the presence of either the rock, or the hard place is made known. The person turns, needs to stretch, or because of outside forces, either the rock or the hard place move and press in. The seamless fit is gone. The security and protection and safeness are gone. And the rock and the hard place loom bigger than they ever have before.

I retract my earlier optimism. I'm going with universal thinking on this one. Being between a rock and a hard place stinks.

Thirteen is the LUCKIEST Number

2010-08-08T05:34:00.006-05:00

Well, Oldest Son, today is the day! The day most kids eagerly anticipate and fervently wait for. The day you turn THIRTEEN! You are officially a teenager! I'm sure that it feels for you like it's taken a very LONG time to get to this point.

And as much as you have been eagerly anticipating this day, Its arrival is somewhat bittersweet for me. And not because the teen years are supposed to be fraught with turmoil (even though your dad and I joke about that a lot), but because, from my perspective, these past thirteen years have FLOWN by. I blinked, and you changed from a tiny newborn baby into the young man you are today. And I know, that as fast as these thirteen years have gone, the next five will be exponentially faster. I want to grab time by the tail and slow it down--just a little bit.

So, in honor of your thirteenth birthday...besides the French Toast and peanut butter cake that you requested for today, I'd like to share thirteen of my favorite memories of you.

1. The day that we found out we were expecting you.

2. Telling grandparents and aunts and uncles of your impending arrival by way of a Christmas gift from your older sister--an empty picture frame with a note that said "Save this space for my new baby brother or sister. Due July 29."

3. Your sister and I living with Lowell and Sue and Julie for over a month while we waited for your arrival so you could be delivered by the doctor we loved. And your dad, patiently driving up from Goodland every weekend to see us.

4. Of course, the day you were born. You had red hair from the very beginning, and it was so much fun to tell our dear friends your name.

5. The day when you were probably a month old, that your sister got some star stickers from the store. She couldn't decide which one to give to you, so she wound up putting every single sticker in the package all over your jammies.

6. The fact that you weighed 18 lbs at 3 months, and a nurse that didn't routinely take care of you told me we should think about calorie restriction. And the look on her face when I told her you were exclusively nursed.

7. Your belly laugh when you were a baby. Something would tickle your funny bone, and you would laugh so infectiously that I couldn't help but laugh with you. You can still do that. It makes it really hard to be mad at you, sometimes.

8. One day, when you were about two, I had apparently frustrated you one too many times because you stood with your feet apart, balled up your fists at your sides, and screamed at me, your whole body shaking with rage--"I just want to do what I WANT TO DO!!"

9. Your idol worship of Bob and Larry from Veggie Tales. You had stuffed ones that you slept with and took EVERYWHERE. Larry's eyes would keep coming off and I would have to keep gluing them back together.

10. That same devotion transferred at some point to Buzz and Woody from Toy Story. It wasn't just enough to have Buzz and Woody action figures, we had to have EVERY SINGLE toy that Andy from the movie had. You even gave Uncle Lowell army men for his birthday one year.

11. The first time, while curled up on the couch next to me, you realized when you sounded out the letters m-a-t, it made the word "mat." I'll never forget the delight in your eyes.

12. The year that you tried out for the Southwind Sluggers baseball team, and didn't get picked. I remember being so sad for you and wondering if you'd be devastated. You were disappointed, but you got right back in there and played rec ball and worked really hard with your dad all year and tried out for the team again the following year--and made it!! Your determination and courage is still talked about by those coaches.

13. Your quick wit and the way that you can mimic voices and accents. Probably when you are forty, I will still want you to talk like the French peas from Veggie Tales.

These have been thirteen amazing years! And even though the next few are going to go by fast, I'm looking forward to all of the exciting things coming your way.

And I want to remind you that God has AMAZING plans for you. And that throughout the course of history, He has used young people to accomplish great things. It was in their adolescence that David defeated a giant and avoided captivity; that Esther bravely saved her entire race of people; that Josiah reigned king over all of Israel and turned his people back to the ways of God; and that Mary and Joseph became the earthly parents of our Messiah.

So...

Don't let anyone put you down because you're young. Teach believers with your life: by word, by demeanor, by love, by faith, by integrity. 1 Timothy 4:12

Happy Birthday!

New Year's Resolutions

2010-08-02T21:36:00.003-05:00

Yep. You read that correctly. And yes, I looked at a calendar before I posted this. Even if I hadn't, the 113 degree heat index certainly would have alerted me to the fact that it cannot possibly be January 1.

However, since I am a teacher, and since all of my children are students, August 1 feels like another New Year's Day. I take stock, plan for the next nine months, decide what I am going to do better or differently and resolve to be that "together" adult that other people seem to be but somehow keeps eluding me.

So here are my resolutions for this 2010-11 school year:

1. Maintain a sense of calm and order in my home. (Anyone want to borrow some fighting siblings for nine months, or come clean my house every day? :o))

2. Teach my children every day. I can hear you all saying "Are you SERIOUS??? You have to make a RESOLUTION to do that? What kind of home schooling mother ARE you?" I mean that I want to purposefully TEACH my children every day this year. I don't want to just "do school." I don't want to just have my kids filling out workbook pages and completing lessons so that we can check them off of our "to do" list. I don't want school just to be one more thing in a too long list of things that has to be done every day. I want it to be the thing that we WANT to do every day. And as my scholars this year will be thirteen, eleven, and nine, that might be a challenging undertaking.

3. Do everything in my power to help my 20 3rd and 4th grade students improve their skills in reading and math this year. And hopefully they will see that learning can be fun in the process.

So for the next nine months, I am going to try very hard to measure everything that I do...all of the opportunities that come my way...against these three resolutions. If it helps me achieve one of these goals, great! Sign me up.

If not, then I can't wait to get started on it on May 27, 2011!

My Primary Irritation

2010-07-28T11:40:00.003-05:00

Yesterday, my darling daughter brought me the contents of the mail slot. My mail was comprised of this--

I'm not kidding. All of this came YESTERDAY. Nothing else. Just political campaigns for the upcoming primary election because someone stupid (Me--I'll just admit it and save you the trouble of digging out your magnifying glass and looking at the address in the picture) registered to vote in high school for civics credit and picked the party that her dad was a member of. And in the last almost 2o years, it just hasn't seemed all that necessary to change it as I am not a partisan voter.

I am totally rethinking that decision.

I understand that election time means political campaigns. It means that every other advertisement on the television is "paid for by _________________ for ______________." It means notices in the mail and phone calls over the dinner hour asking me to answer "a couple of quick questions" about a particular candidate and (of course) to donate some money to their cause. And in the past several years, it has come to mean hearing more about what someone doesn't do or does badly, than what someone does well.

But primaries are the absolute worst!

Because now its candidates who supposedly belong to the same party trying to out-Democrat or out-Republican each other. So now instead of big government vs. little government; life vs. choice; environment vs. industry, etc, it's who's MORE pro-life. Who cares MORE about immigration laws and lower taxes and a host of other issues.

Only instead of "I'd be better for this job and here's why," it's "You would be way worse for this job than I would be and here's why."

ARRGGH! You know it's bad when your twelve-year-old points it out to you out of the blue from watching commercials and when there is no room on your answering machine for important messages because "Kansans for Whomever" have left you a 10 minute long message trashing their opposition. And it's especially bad when you wish for credit card applications to be the junk mail in your box instead of ten smear campaign postcards.

And these people want us to trust them to run the country.

So come on, Kansas "conservative" Republicans! Let's get busy and "conserve" something!

You could start with paper...and answering machine space...and my sanity!!

And in the process, you just might be able to preserve some of your "alleged" integrity.

*Paid for by "Political Rantings from Casey." This message is not endorsed by any political candidate running in this election!*

Someone Needs to Let That Poor Girl Know

2010-07-27T15:40:00.002-05:00

I went into my daughter's room this morning and this is what I saw. Yup. That's toilet paper. Strung clear across the room. Hanging in darling little tassels at each corner of the dresser. I would show you pictures of the entire room, but these are the two shots I could get that show the least amount of mess.

"Did you string toilet paper all over your room?" I asked.

"Yep!" She replied with a big smile on her face.

Silly girl! Someone needs to explain to her that you TP OTHER people's spaces...not your own!!

2010-07-22T20:03:00.002-05:00

Dear 16-year-old shift manager at McDonalds:

I realize that part of our confrontation today was my fault. If I hadn't been in your drive-thru purchasing overpriced edible poison for four ravenous boys, none of this would have happened. For that, I apologize.

It is, however, YOUR establishment that operates two simultaneous speaker boxes run by one individual. It is YOUR screen that is too small to show the entire order for four people, and it is YOU who asks if everything is correct on the screen when there is no possible way the customer can confirm or deny if there are more than three items ordered.

I assume that you have some amazingly high-tech way to keep track of which order belongs to which car when everyone pulls up to the ONE window to pay. When I hand my debit card to you, I am trusting that you have debited MY account for MY order.

Normally, I look at the receipt just to make sure, but today, everyone and their dog was purchasing overpriced edible poison from your establishment, and I was distracted by the antics of the four ravenous boys in my vehicle.

Here's a little piece of advice:

When a customer pulls up to yet ANOTHER window to collect his/her order, DO NOT, with a look of extreme irritation in your voice, thrust a wad of bills in his/her hand and accuse him/her of not paying enough money for his/her order. Especially if the customer handed a debit card to your employee, whom I assume is responsible for swiping the card for the proper amount and yet failed in this duty.

I understand that accidents happen and mistakes can be made--especially during busy times. But a friendly smile, an apologetic tone, and a simple explanation of the snafoo--where your establishment takes ownership for its mistake instead of accusing the customer of trying to "steal" food through the drive-thru--would go a long way to increasing customer satisfaction and promoting your image as an intelligent and capable human being.

And it would have been really nice if--since we were subjected to all of that--you double-checked the order before you handed it to us so that when we got home, at least our order would be right!

Sincerely,

Magnificent Monday

2010-07-21T20:11:00.002-05:00

I know. It's actually Wednesday. But as I am always a day late (or in this case, two) and a dollar short, humor me.

Monday started out ordinary. Then two things happened to make it magnificent. Or at least to alert me to its magnificence. A phone call. And an email.

A phone call telling me that a dear, dear friend delivered a beautiful, healthy baby girl.

An email telling me that my cousin got engaged over the weekend.

I know...babies are born every day. People get engaged every day. But it is uncanny that these two events would come to my attention on the very same day.

You see, a year ago, on February 23, my dear, dear friend delivered a beautiful baby boy. He lived less than 48 hours. My friend and her husband experienced firsthand every parent's worst nightmare. I won't even try to convey what that must have been like. There are no words.

Several years ago, my cousin stood in a beautiful church in a beautiful dress with a handsome young man at her side. I wasn't able to attend the wedding, but thanks to the internet and "bride and groom" websites, I was able to see the pictures. Hundreds of them, documenting their happy day--faces full of the promise of a beautiful future together. Then my cousin experienced a married couple's nightmare. The death of a marriage. Again, I have no words.

What I do know is that these two women and their families, despite grief and disappointment and anger and frustration and a myriad of emotions that there probably aren't adequate words for, continued to live...and love...and RISK..and trust...and believe in the promise of a brighter tomorrow and fulfilled dreams.

And God, who is ALWAYS faithful, and whose timing is perfect, orchestrated Monday to show me through these two unrelated events what He promises in Joel 2:25--

"I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten..."

I LOVE it when He does stuff like that!

Big Plans for Today

2010-07-13T07:46:00.004-05:00

School starts in less than a month. And I feel like I've been busy this summer trying to get things done. But I look around, and I can't see the fruit of my labor. All I see is a bunch of things started, but nothing finished. I feel like I'm spinning my wheels.

So today, I am making a commitment to get SOMETHING completely finished.

I'll let you know how it goes...

My New Culinary Love

2010-07-10T09:45:00.006-05:00

I remember one time in the early eighties, my mom read somewhere that plain yoghurt could be substituted for sour cream in recipes--resulting in food that was lower in fat, rich in "good for you" cultures, and with virtually no taste difference.

So we tried it. I remember forking up a big bite of baked potato smothered with Danon plain yoghurt and putting it in my mouth. Once that bite hit my tongue, I knew that we had been suckered into what just might be the biggest lie in culinary history. Keep in mind, I was probably eight at the time. It was disgusting.

I had never been a huge fan of yoghurt, and this solidified my distaste.

Fast forward 30ish years...

Last year, my friend, Not Your Average Jennifer, introduced me to this:

I don't think what she used was this brand, per se, but this is the equivalent that I can find in my small Midwestern town.

Now I had seen this item before. At our grocery store it is nestled among the other brands of yoghurt. The thing that draws attention to it is the price tag below it--it's roughly twice as much as the other brands of "regular" yoghurt.

As I said before, I don't particularly like yoghurt, so I didn't pay it much attention to it at all.

Well, one time while I was visiting, Jen fixed me yoghurt for breakfast. And as a polite guest, I figured I could sit down and eat a bowl...it wouldn't kill me.

What she served was pure deliciousness--plain Greek yoghurt, sprinkled with chopped raw walnuts and drizzled with raw honey.

And then I realized...THIS is what that person from the early eighties was talking about!! He or she hadn't, as I had previously assumed, destroyed his/her taste buds as a three-pack-a-day smoker in the seventies!

This stuff is creamy, and smooth, and deliciously tangy! You can get it flavored, like "regular" Danon yoghurt, and we've tried some of it, but in my humble opinion, none of those flavors hold a candle to chopped walnuts and drizzled honey.

Brian prefers it with granola and fresh blueberries...if you're looking for variations.

And I do now use it in place of sour cream in recipes. It is more expensive, but it tastes so much better and the health benefits of no fat, live yoghurt cultures, and a list of ingredients that I recognize are a real bonus.

Plus this particular brand contains recipes on the carton like this:

Blue Cheese Avocado Dip

How can you not love something this spectacular?

Thanks, Jen! My life and my dinner table are richer for knowing you!

I've Got a Cure for the Summertime Blues

2010-07-07T08:33:00.002-05:00

It's happened. I noticed it starting about a week ago. Facial expressions started becoming a little bit more downcast. Voices started getting just a little bit more snarky. The lovely offspring seemed to be "accidentally" (on purpose) irritating one another just a little bit more. I noticed that I was mediating more arguments (than usual).

And then I started hearing the lovely offspring using the "B" word. As in "I'm BORED."

I don't know about you, but at my house, this is the mother of all words in the summertime. The you'd-better-not-say-that-where-Mom-can-hear-you word. You won't get your mouth washed out with soap or anything, but you just might get a pair of gloves and a toilet brush. Or a pair of gloves and a garden weasel.

This is a busy household of six. There is ALWAYS something that can be done.

So I've been wracking my brain to try to come up with things to help cure the Summertime Blues at our house.

Do we need

~more playdates?

~some craft projects?

~day trips to museums?

~more pool time?

~more free bowling time?

~for the baseball season to last longer?

~a dog?

And then it occurred to me. I know...I'm slow. You've probably already figured it out. They don't need any of these things. What they need is...SCHOOL!!

I can't wait for school to start! But hold on...again, I know...I'm slow. This also occurred to me. I'm their TEACHER!!! School can start TODAY!!

And the fact that my oldest son had nothing better to do this morning than watch and mock mercilessly while I sweated and grunted my way through a workout video will ensure that--at least for him--it will!

This One's for You, Mom!

2010-07-04T20:16:00.004-05:00

In conversation with my mother today, she disclosed that she checks my blog to see if I've posted something new...

Every. Single. Day.

Really?? Every day? I was shocked. And touched. And I felt kind of bad.

Since my last post was on April 13, that means she has been disappointed 82 times. Sorry, Mom.

I've wanted to get back to blogging. It's great therapy for me. But for the past couple of years I've been too busy/lazy/crazy to put much of anything of value in cyber-space.

I blame facebook for part of it. I can easily come up with a quick one-sentence status update in facebook, but I can't seem to pull together enough thoughts to substantiate a quality blog post.

But I'm going to try to get back into it. And not just because of the conversation that I had with my mom, although finding out you have a regular reader...even just one...is highly motivating.

I can't promise it will be every day. But maybe once a week.

Who am I kidding? Maybe I should just try to get something down once a month. That would have at least reduced her disappointment to 80 times.

Time will tell. Stay tuned!

*Author's note: No feelings of guilt whatsoever were intended in the comments that led to this posting.*

Conversation at Our House

2010-04-13T20:13:00.002-05:00

12 YO: What do you want for your birthday, Mom?

Me: A clean house. :o)

12 YO: Dad, can you take us to Wal Mart to buy a present for Mom?

Brian: Okay, anybody who needs to get Mom a present for her birthday, get in the car. We'll go to Wal Mart real quick. And I mean quick. I only plan to be there ten minutes.

Oh yeah. I'm feeling the love...

A Little Math For Your Reading Enjoyment

2009-10-14T07:05:00.002-05:00

6 ~The number of hours I spent stressing out about my assistant head of school listening to my phone conference with a parent yesterday afternoon. This is the equivalent of the principal observing in a brick and mortar classroom.

5 ~The number of pumpkin scones that would neatly fit into a gallon zip-lok baggie for my daughter's school fund-raiser. I squeezed six in, however.

4 ~The insane hour of the morning that I had to get up to make said pumpkin scones for said fund-raiser.

3 ~The number of years I have been doing my job, so why was I nervous about 6 above?

2 ~The number of conferences that needed to be rescheduled yesterday, giving me two MORE students to try to get a reading assessment on by the end of the week.

1 ~The number of gigantic Diet Coke's I drank yesterday (very impressive for me these days).

0 ~The number of baked good items that I purchased from my daughter's school fund-raiser. With H1N1 and everything else, I'm not about to purchase anything that can't be heated to germ-killing temperatures. Does 30 seconds in the microwave kill Influenza germs?

If You're Handing these Out, I Could Seriously Use Some, or Hooked on Phonics Worked for Me!

2009-10-13T06:28:00.003-05:00

Okay, so in my "spare" time, I work a couple of evenings at the studio where my girls dance.

Last week, one of the little girls in the beginning class forgot her tights. We do have loaners of that sort of thing (tights, leotards, shoes, etc), so she borrowed a pair.

This week, she returned them. They were washed and folded neatly in a Zip-Lok baggie with a note to the owner of the studio.

It read:

"Thanks for the tits."

Animal Crackers...

2009-10-09T00:19:00.002-05:00

...and cocoa to drink (or coffee, if you're the mom).

This is the finest of Breakfasts, I think.

He Can't Help It...It's Embedded In the Y Chromosome

2009-10-05T21:22:00.003-05:00

Due to an unfortunate event involving seeing how long french fries stay airborne in my vehicle while said vehicle is cruising down the interstate at 70 or so mph, my children got the job of cleaning out the car this afternoon.

Due to the fact that my oldest son is twelve, and therefore has a mental condition that requires him to test every one of my statements to see if it is true, such as "The next person that sends a fry flying in this car will also get the exciting task of vacuuming it after you three clean it out," my son spent some of his free afternoon with the Shop Vac.

After the task was supposedly finished, I noticed that the boys were playing football in the yard and the Shop Vac was still sitting in the driveway. I asked my son to put it away, please.

I ran an errand. When I got back, I noticed that the Shop Vac had been pulled into the garage just far enough so that the cannister was technically in the garage, but the cord, hose, and attachments were STILL in the driveway.

I'm sure you see where this is going. I called my son over. We went through the whole deal. The I-thought-I-asked-you-to-put-that-away...I-DID-the-actual-Shop-Vac-is-in-the-garage parent/12 year-old logic discussion.

As I walked down to the end of the driveway, I saw that one of the Shop Vac attachments was lying in the grass next to the driveway.

I called my son over. I held up the attachment.

"I just want you to know that it is taking every ounce of self-control that I can muster not to chuck this attachment at you as hard as I can." I told him. Sometimes there's just nothing to do but to tell the truth.

And then do you know what he did?

He took the attachment from me, gave me this heart-melting grin and said to me, "I love you."

What a male! Good grief!

Be Careful Who Your Friends Are...

2009-08-06T00:20:00.001-05:00

...or you just might wind up with one of these!! Preacher's kids are the BEST influence!

I'm Still Here...

2009-07-25T20:49:00.003-05:00

I've just got nothin'. Nothing blog-worthy to write at all. We are all still here, trucking along with those lazy, hazy crazy days of summer. Kids have been busy, Brian has been busy...I have been busy. Hopefully something funny, charming, or halfway interesting will happen to us soon so I can post. I love reading what's going on with all of you, though, so keep writing. I love you all!

Casey

A Tale of Two Trees

2009-05-25T19:45:00.003-05:00

Memorial Day weekend at my house means a four day holiday for Brian. Something about making up for the bank holidays that he couldn't take during tax season. And a four day weekend usually means yard work, which he loves to do.

This weekend, he has been trimming trees and bushes...everything from the oak in the front yard to the lilac bushes in the back. The back is getting special attention as we are in the process of replacing our fence. So as Brian is trimming things, he is being very mindful of the fence line.

As I said, our front yard has a beautiful oak tree. The trunk is straight and true and it has beautiful dark green glossy leaves that provide fabulous shade for the house. In the fall, the leaves turn a beautiful dark burgundy. It doesn't drop crazy things in my yard. It is a clasically beautiful tree and it "behaves" the way a tree should "behave."

In the back yard, along our fenceline, is a mulberry tree. It is sandwiched between two snowball bushes, and it was here when we moved in. I have no idea if the former owners purposed for it to be where it is, or if Mother Nature did, but it grows on our property. In the seven years we have been here, it has grown to be quite massive. It provides a good deal of shade for our yard. It also produces a bumper crop of mulberries every year much to the delight of my children and many backyard birds in my neighborhood. One year, we even made old-fashioned spiced mulberry jam with its bounty.

This tree has become of interest to us because of its proximity to the fenceline. Upon close inspection, Brian noticed that it is not one tree, but three trees that have grown up next to each other. The trunks wind around each other and the branches are all intermingled. Our first proposition was to remove two of the trees and leave one...making a much more tidy looking tree and giving it plenty of room to clear the fence.

Friday afternoon Brian came to me and said, "I don't know, Hon. I worry that if I cut off those two extra parts of that tree it won't look right anymore. It will be bare and sparse and patchy in places." He made an excellent point.

And now, dear reader, we come to the point where I am sure you are saying to yourself, "What in the WORLD does this have to do with anything at all?!?!"

Well, the other thing that happened this holiday weekend is my baby brother graduated from high school. And high school graduations mean extended family get-togethers, which brings me to another type of "tree." The family tree.

Some of us have family trees that are like the oak in my front yard. They have one trunk that is straight and true. They have evenly spaced limbs and branches. They are, to the naked eye, uncomplicated and easy to explain. These family trees "do what family trees are supposed to do." And they are beautiful.

My family tree resembles the mulberry tree in my backyard. It is a complicated structure with interwoven trunks, branches, and leaves. But ultimately, it does what it is supposed to do as well. And it is also beautiful.

So I'm done wishing that I could prune my tree to resemble the oak. I can't. Not without losing much of the beauty and purpose of the tree.

So, Here's How I Really Feel

2009-05-20T21:18:00.003-05:00

A blog post by my seven-year-old.

And, hey, I can totally respect this.

She expressed her feelings appropriately.

She didn't call me names or put lip gloss on my dresser drawer handles.

She has a sentence that contains a subject, a verb, a preposition AND an object of the preposition.

She started her sentence with a capital letter.

A period at the end would have been nice, but still...a pretty well constructed sentence.

I think it's time to get this kid a diary. And pay close attention to where she hides it. :o)

Is it Just Me...

2009-05-14T09:01:00.004-05:00

Or do these have the very real potential of quite possibly being the worst-tasting candies on the face of the Earth?

Seriously, M&M/Mars...what were you thinking??

Wordless Wednesday

2009-04-22T19:28:00.002-05:00

A "Future" Conversation

2009-04-14T01:11:00.002-05:00

J and I were chatting in the car today, and somehow the subject turned to potential career choices.

"What do you think I'll be when I grow up, Mommy?" she asked.

"Hmm, that's a really good question. I don't know," was my response.

She never lets me get away with that.

"Come on, Mommy. Please?? Tell me what you think I'll be!"

"Well you really like animals, so maybe you'll be a veternarian."

"Or maybe I'll be a people doctor." We just read about Elizabeth Blackwell in science today.

"That's a good idea! Or you could be a nurse," I said. "Or a teacher."

"Yeah," she replied. "Or, maybe I'll work at Wal Mart!"

No Disrespect to My Great State...But You Are Assessing the Wrong Things

2009-04-01T18:13:00.005-05:00

We finished state assessments today, and on the way home, my eleven-year-old and I were discussing how he thought he did.

I pointed out to him that I had found out all I needed to know about how he was doing that very morning, before he even walked into the testing site.

We were listening to NPR on the hour drive up, and the subject of the death penalty came up (many states are repealing their death penalty laws as a way to save money). I asked my eleven-year-old what he thought about the death penalty. He was quiet for a moment and then said, "I don't think that the death penalty is right." I asked him to explain why he felt the way he did. His response?

"I don't think any person has a right to decide when someone else dies and doesn't get a chance to know about God anymore."

Wow.

He has a thought-out reason for why he feels the way he does AND he is concerned about his fellow man and fulfilling the Great Commission.

My great state may need to know that he can convert a decimal to a fraction, figure the probability of drawing a blue marble out of a bag of marbles, and know what a hyperbole is, but I found out today exactly what I need to know.

Does he have a relationship with God? Does he care about others? Can he think? Check. Check. Check.

You get an "Exemplary" in my book, Kiddo!

Between a Rock and A Hard Place.

2009-03-30T09:05:00.004-05:00

I know this is Musical Monday...but I couldn't think of a good musical number...maybe "God, I Hope I Get It" from A Chorus Line. Or, God, I hope THEY Get It, as the case may be...

I am a teacher by trade, meaning that I spent countless hours and thousands of dollars between the years of 1991-1995 to obtain a piece of paper from the state of saying that I am "qualified" to teach students "stuff." :o)

I am also a home school mom, meaning that I have taught my children at home (formally for the past 9 years) but technically since each of my children was born.

A little disclaimer here:

1. I do NOT believe that you need a teaching certificate to home school. I just happen to have one. Sometimes, it's a liability, but that is another blog post.

2. I do NOT own a denim jumper. :o)

After several years of allowing my certificate to "collect dust" at the Department of Ed, I brushed it off last year and I am now employed as an education specialist with a virtual charter school. Students enroll in our accredited public school, the receive and complete their curriculum in their homes under the supervision of a "learning coach" usually the parent. I am the "chick with the certificate" who oversees their education...providing support, assistance, and expertise where needed.

Normally, my home schooling mom "hat" and my public school employee "hat" don't come into conflict. The end of March and the beginning of April is the glaring exception to this.

STATE ASSESSMENTS

As a public school teacher, I am well aware of No Child Left Behind, Adequate Yearly Progress, Quality Performance Accreditation, and how all of that trickles down to the doozy...FUNDING. I believe that quality education in this country is a right, not a privilege, and I commend people who are concerned about doing their best to make sure that we provide excellent education to America's children.

As a parent, it infuriates me that the way to check and see that quality teaching is occurring is to force-feed my child very specific information for 6 months and then put him in a highly stressful testing situation. I personally don't care if my children call adding up a group of numbers and dividing by how many numbers you have "mean" or "average." I just care that they know how to do it. It infuriates me that not only does my fourth grader need to know how to solve a story problem correctly, but he needs to be able to find the crazy...never-in-a-million-years-would-someone-make-THAT-mistake-when-trying-to-make-correct-change mistake that some fictitious "person" made. I would like someone to tell me when in "real life" a person analyzes the reading material that comes across their desk as "narrative, description, problem-solution, sequence of events, or cause and effect," UNLESS they are a teacher.

So here I sit, waiting for my children to finish taking their state assessment tests with my back against the rock and my feet propped up on the proverbial hard place.

One day down, two to go.

It Might As Well Be Spring

2009-03-28T18:16:00.003-05:00

I Feel Insignificant

2009-03-20T09:40:00.002-05:00

There is this goofy "note" on facebook where you can ask your kids to answer questions about you. Then you are supposed to post their answers for people to view.

One of the questions is "If I were a cartoon character, who would I be?"

The answer at my house was unanimous.

Wait for it...

Yep. I would be the teacher/parents in the "Charlie Brown" movies.

Nice.

Musical Monday

2009-03-09T20:14:00.002-05:00

I am still not feeling very musical. I probably won't for a very long time.

However, tomorrow, my beautiful oldest daughter turns fourteen. FOURTEEN!! A blog will be forthcoming, I am sure, of all the things I did when I was fourteen that I so hope she doesn't do!

So this song is for you, my beautiful girl. It isn't from a Broadway musical, but Julie Andrews does sing it, and she sang on Broadway. So I hope, dear reader, that you can allow me the liberty to post it anyway

Your Crowning Glory - Julie Andrews

The Question on My Mind

2009-02-26T13:08:00.001-06:00

Wordless Wednesday

2009-02-11T20:16:00.002-06:00

It's Supposed to be Musical Monday But...

2009-02-09T20:07:00.002-06:00

I am not feeling terribly musical today. This may be because I spent 8+ hours in a car with two teenaged girls on Saturday, and we sang our hearts out to the crazy mix that makes up my iPod. So if you happened to be puttering along on I 35 this weekend, you might have seen us. I am sure we were a sight!

Today has been a very typical "Monday."

~Somehow I didn't get my alarm set properly (how many days of how many years have I been setting this exact same alarm, anyway?) so I overslept.

~6:30~Brian left for yet another business trip to sunny CA.

~8:00am~Bella had an appointment with the vet to get stitches removed from her back paws. This was supposed to be a "free" visit. Suture removal comes billed with the surgery procedure. Not for this "free" dog of ours. $13 for the "lampshade" that she had to wear for the past two weeks to keep her from licking/biting/removing her stitches early. $3 for her license (this is infinitely better than the $20 they want for a doggie that still has her "girly parts"). And as I was walking out the door..."How are you guys on heart worm medication?" $47 for a six-month supply of heart worm medicine. Did I mention how much I love my nice clean, healthy, CHEAP CATS???

~9:30am~M had an orthodontist appointment. More money, 2 hours, and bottom braces later, I dropped her off at school with a "You'll be fine" as she jumped out of the car looking like a thundercloud. Apparently metal and pain don't make for a happy kid. My "mercy meter" was just a little low as I was in the middle of a

~10:30am phone conference with J's education specialist, which I took while driving down rural roads to M's school...just praying I would continue to get cell phone service. What on earth did we DO before people could get in touch with us at any minute of any day?

Is anyone noticing what hadn't happened yet today? Yup. School had not yet happened by 11am. Nice.

~11:30am~Crammed two quick language arts lessons and lunch in before...

~12:30pm~My weekly staff collaboration meeting that lasts until 2pm.

~2:15pm~Thought it might be prudent to see how bad the hair looked...yes...very bad...but nothing I could do as I needed to return a phone call and...

~2:30pm~Get N to his guitar lesson

~3:00pm~Grabbed J and headed out to get M from school to take them to their dance studio for "The Never-Ending Night of Dance, Part I" (Part II is tomorrow).

And this is where I now sit...overwhelmed by all that there still is to do at home, and completely exhausted and just wanting to crash when I get there.

I am praying for a much calmer tomorrow.

My World Before Work

2009-02-04T16:03:00.002-06:00

I have been employed full-time (in addition to the lying around and doing nothing that I did before) for a little over a year-and-a-half. My job is interesting in the fact that it is done primarily from home. Lately, I have been reflecting on the things that have changed for me over the past 18 months:

~I used to bake my own bread all the time.

~I used to get income tax refunds.

~I used to be able to have both eight hours of sleep a night AND an exercise routine.

~I used to be 15 pounds lighter.

~I used to shop at thrift stores...procuring fabulous deals and capitalizing on the opulence and waste of the American people.

~I used to have time to shower, fix my hair AND put on makeup...before 4pm.

~I used to scrapbook.

~I used to occasionally sew clothing and costumes for my children.

~I used to use my computer solely to email people and for Ebay and Amazon.com purchases.

~I used to hold babies and get paid for it.

~I used to consider taking up quilting some day.

~I used to teach my children during normal school hours as opposed to evenings and weekends.

~I used to answer my phone whenever it rang and return calls in a timely manner.

~I used to occasionally have more than one room of the house cleaned at a time.

~I used to snub fast food restaurants, opting instead to cook at home (maybe that's the 15 pound problem).

~I used to be in a Bible study.

~I used to make meals for my sick friends, or friends who had just had babies.

~I used to remember things.

~I used to let my children have regular play dates.

~I used to be able to carve out time for a haircut.

~I used to be able to run ten miles.

~I used to be mildly disorganized and it didn't cause grave problems.

~I used to spend time with my friends.

~I used to worry about how we were going to afford all of the kids' activities, orthodontia, eye wear, AND college.

~I used to wish that I could find the perfect job that would enable me to help "earn my keep" and still allow me to be home with my children.

Hmmm. Sometimes we do get what we wish for.

Tune on Tuesday...as I Procrastinated on Monday

2009-02-03T22:52:00.000-06:00

What a Piece of Work Is Man - The Original Broadway Cast Recording

Should I be Alarmed?

2009-02-01T22:49:00.004-06:00

My nine-year-old has discovered that he likes hiding in my closet. He sits in there with the door closed, and then when I'm in the middle of something...today it was cleaning...he quietly comes out, scaring me to death. It's almost more alarming than if he would burst out and say "Boo!"

Should I be concerned?

A Restored Faith in Humanity

2009-01-30T08:46:00.003-06:00

I am "working from Panera" today...I love my job...and free wireless internet!

While filling my cup of coffee (half-and-half, part dark roast, part hazelnut--in case you wanted to know), I noticed a can sitting next to the coffee. It had a slit in the top and a sign that said, "Drop in exact change, grab your coffee, and go."

It is so nice to know that somewhere, amid all of the dishonesty and corruption in the world (I was listening to NPR on the way down, where they were re-capping the impeachment trial of former Illinois governor, Blagojevich), there is a place of business that trusts its customers.

And there is a place in this world where the customers are trustworthy.

Have a wonderful Friday!

Jennifer and Melissa, You Probably DON'T Want to Read This

2009-01-29T22:29:00.003-06:00

I bought Twinkies today. Well, I actually bought them yesterday. Four boxes of them. I have NEVER in my life bought Twinkies. I needed them for a really cute sunflower cake to make for Kansas Day. I toyed with the idea (for about 8 seconds) of making petals for the cake out of shortbread made with organic ingredients instead of using Twinkies. It would have tasted better, but, alas, I don't have that kind of time any more.

I made two of these cakes. One for us to have at home, and one for M's Kansas History class. As I was putting the 1, 4, and 8 candles on the top of the cake at M's school, one of the sweet office ladies said to me, "Oh, is it your birthday?" Seriously???

So we celebrated Kansas Day with a sunflower cake. We sang "Home on the Range" in lieu of "Happy Birthday."

My children are no longer Twinkie virgins. If there is anything redeeming about this experience at all, it is that they didn't like the Twinkies all that much.

The things you'll do to celebrate your state's birthday...

Wordless Wednesday

2009-01-28T20:44:00.002-06:00

Thank You All

2009-01-27T21:02:00.002-06:00

I promised Marly that I wouldn't blog about my recent drama...I really seem to attract drama like a magnet...but I have mucho kindnesses that beg to be acknowledged. Emily Post would, I know, frown on Blogger "thank you notes," but I am out of stamps, so here goes:

John~Thank you for correctly diagnosing my car problem in spite of my "typical girl" hysteria...I don't know...it's making a bump, bump, bump noise...here...you listen (as I hold up my cell phone) and for coming to rescue me at 10:30 at night in 16 degree weather and then to go out in 17 degree weather today on your LUNCH hour and try to get it to the tire place.

Julie~Thank you for watching my children...taking all of my calls today while you were trying to work...bringing me flowers and chocolate...picking up my son at baseball practice...and going with me to Wal Mart to get a monstrous crate for a dog that I want to give away! And for marrying a car guy...that was very considerate of you :o)

Sue~Thanks for being willing to let me drive your car...I'm just chicken about a stick in this weather since it's been awhile since I've driven one.

Carol~Thanks for loading up sick children and driving out of your way to pick up M's dance stuff and take it out to the school for me.

Jamie~Thanks for dropping everything and coming over "right now" to give me a ride to the tire place before it closed. The quick chat we were able to have on the way was a nice bonus, as well!

Miss Mara~Thanks for picking M up at school, taking her to class, and bringing her HOME so she wouldn't have to miss.

Stephanie~Thanks for being willing to work 5 HOURS this evening to help cover my shift at the studio.

And last but not least...

Brian~Thanks for not sighing too much on the phone when I mentioned cost :o) And for only telling me once how much it would cost if I had ruined the wheel rim by driving on it. And for telling me that it was fine to hire someone to tow the car so that I could have it back sooner.

I have the best friends in the ENTIRE WORLD!!! You guys are amazing!!

Musical Monday

2009-01-26T11:06:00.001-06:00

I believe this is Ethel Merman and Ray Middleton

Anything You Can Do - Unknown artist

What's Been Going on in My Life...Because You're DYIN' to Know...

2009-01-25T20:58:00.002-06:00

~Right before Thanksgiving, our TV crapped out..."forcing" us to purchase a new one. I still don't know how to work it. My children do. I have to ask them to turn it on and get movies started for me. I need to figure out how to use it. This is power they should probably not have.

~I've been trying to catch up on my laundry. I counted no less than ten pairs of ballet pink tights that went in the wash today. Either M has a "boy" pair and a "girl" pair and they are reproducing like rabbits, or I am washing tights for the entire Jr. performance ballet class.

~C got a haircut last weekend. This has not, however, stopped his hair from sticking up all over his head after he sleeps.

~Ever since we started some "remodel" projects earlier this summer, J's room has been in a "state of disarray." Everything was thrown pell-mell into Rubbermaid tubs, and she has been sleeping on a mattress on the floor. I have had a hard time trying to decide what kind of "stuff" I want in her room. We finally bit the bullet, and just made some decisions. After the better part of two days, her space is finally back in order. Quick! Come see it soon! It might not be this way ever again!

~Brian and I went to Sam's Club today. Apparently, Laura Ashley makes Bermuda shorts and panties. Who knew?

~It is a sad day when plantation slatted blinds are more expensive at Wal Mart than at either Target or Lowe's.

~I made a fabulous balsamic chicken and mushrooms dish for dinner on Friday night. Of course, I still stand by the theory that you should make your family "fend for themselves" in the food department for about a week before you try anything new. They will be so shocked to have a hot meal WITH side dishes, that anything you make will be amazing. Maybe I should try that theory on eggplant and canned spinach...

~The New Year's Resolution theory isn't going quite the way I'd hoped it would...Apparently, 2009's resolutions are going to get kept this year. Arrrggh!

~The world might just be coming to an end. J and C have spent the better part of the last 3 HOURS in her room, playing with stuffed animals, having this crazy conversation, and laughing hysterically. Usually, J is right next to me...bored and wanting me to play with her. And she and C are usually fighting.

~How is it that ABC FAMILY has a show with a "viewer discretion advised" warning? Insomnia is a terrible thing...it makes you do crazy things, like watch the entire first season of The Secret Life of the American Teenager. All I have to say is Are you kidding me? I have yet to see a more unrealistic show about high school...and that includes all the episodes of Beverly Hills, 90210. Either times have really changed, or that show is completely ridiculous. I was in high school once. I was even in the marching band...and I went to band camp. I remember standing at attention in the 90+ degree heat for what seemed like hours because some freshman wouldn't stop talking, but I don't think anyone was getting pregnant there. But maybe I'm naive. I also don't remember a lot of high school boys who would propose marriage to their girlfriend who was pregnant with some other guy's baby.

~And the fact that Molly Ringwald plays the mother...well...that just makes me feel old.

~So I have to decide if I keep watching...just to see how insane it actually gets...or if I just mourn those five hours that I can't ever have back again. Of course it was five hours that I normally would have been sleeping, so maybe it wasn't that big of a loss after all.

~Have a wonderful week!

So Considerate and Thoughtful

2009-01-23T22:34:00.003-06:00

Our house has only one bathroom on the main floor. This evening, as I was TRYING to do something with my hair, my youngest son came in.

"Mom, I need to wash my hands." He said. He eyed the straightener that I had in my hand, plugged in right next to the sink. "I won't electrocute you if I turn on the water, will I?" He asked.

I checked, just to make sure that the cord hadn't slipped into the sink unnoticed by me.

"No. It's fine. Go ahead and wash your hands."

"Well, if I do...I'm sorry." He said, matter-of-factly, as he turned on the water.

Wordless Wednesday...on Thursday...Sorry.

2009-01-22T11:30:00.002-06:00

Musical Monday...Many Days Late (We've Been Under the Weather)

2009-01-22T11:24:00.002-06:00

Those of you who know me well had to know that Mamma Mia was going to show up on an installment of Musical Monday at some point. My biggest challenge was picking a favorite song! I finally settled on one...and sorry...you get the Colin Firth version, as I couldn't find the original Broadway production version.

Our Last Summer - Colin Firth

Since Hannah [Nathan] Moved Away

2009-01-15T10:50:00.003-06:00

On Tuesday, my brother made the big switch from the City of Fountains to the Big Apple. The City of Fountains is a mere 3 hours (2.75 the way I drive) from my abode. The Big Apple...an expensive plane ticket.

I, as a parent and an elementary teacher, am a lover of children's books. Judith Viorst is one of my favorite authors. I have taken liberty with one of her poems:

The tires on my bike are flat.
The sky is grouchy gray. 
At least it sure feels like that
Since Hannah [Nathan] moved away.

Chocolate ice cream tastes like prunes.
December's come to stay. 
They've taken back the Mays and Junes
Since Hannah [Nathan] moved away.

Flowers smell like halibut. 
Velvet feels like hay. 
Every handsome dog's a mutt
Since Hannah [Nathan] moved away.

Nothing's fun to laugh about. 
Nothing's fun to play.
They call me, but I won't come out
Since Hanna [Nathan] moved away.

We'll miss you, Snoopy!  Can't wait to see you on Feb. 19!

Musical Monday

2009-01-12T23:22:00.000-06:00

All for the Best - Godspell

A Little too Close to Home

2009-01-11T21:25:00.005-06:00

J turned seven in December, and this year for her birthday we got her an American Girl Doll. Now if you are unfamiliar with American Girl dolls, allow me to educate you briefly. I believe they got started in maybe the late eighties/early nineties with dolls and books of 9-10-11 year old girls living in different periods of American History. These dolls could be purchased, along with "authentic" accessories. It was a really great idea, and it apparently stuck. I've been to the American Girl store in Chicago. It might be the closest thing I have had to a cult experience (that and the Twilight movie, but I digress).

We have contributed to this madness. My oldest daughter has Kirsten and Molly, and J has Bitty Baby (AG's baby doll, so you can spend ridiculous amounts of money on your daughters at a VERY young age). J agonized long and hard over which "big doll" to get, and finally settled on Kit.

I think mostly because Kit is the historical doll that most resembles her in looks.

But Kit and her story is starting to hit a little too close to home. See, Kit's story takes place in 1934. Kit Kittridge is "a clever resourceful girl who helps her family cope with the dark days of the Great Depression, " to quote Meet Kit.

Since Kit came to live at our house, at least 4 of my friends or acquaintances have lost jobs. Stores are closing on our small town's main street. Stores that we are "famous" for. Houses are sitting on the market. Companies are laying off workers. People are starting to look worried.

Kit came with a book about "her." It tells of her life in Cincinnati, OH. J and I have been reading it. Her daddy lost his job and had to go to Chicago to look for work...leaving her mother to rent out bedrooms in their home to make ends meet.

In the past, I read about that time in history with a sense of detachment. I don't any longer. And although I am not afraid, I do hope that Kit coming to our house isn't a sign of things to come.

Please Mister Postman, Look and See, Is There a Letter...A Letter for Me?

2009-01-10T01:13:00.003-06:00

We have one of those typical 1960s mailboxes...you know...the slot in the side of the house. Ours dumps into our front hall closet. The mail man delivers to our house somewhere between noon and 1pm. Usually we are in the kitchen fixing lunch. My children hear the clatter of the flap on the mailbox and race to be the one to grab all of the treasure...I mean trash. Credit card applications, Loan consolidation applications, bills, catalogs, etc. Most of it is worthless.

I am told, that years ago, people used to send personal letters to one another in the mail. They would put pen to paper, write a missive, place a stamp on it, and send it via the U.S. postal service to a recipient. It might take days to get there. Some people still do this.

I know a guy who is stationed overseas in the military. He sends his wife and/or his children a letter...via "snail mail" EVERY DAY. I have to tell you...I find that amazing...and refreshing. In a world of email, Facebook, blogs, instant message, webcams, cell phones, Skype, and free long distance plans, he takes the time to put pen to paper and send actual letters home.

Letters, diaries, and the like have been a huge part of our history. They are a tangible "hard copy" of the years when our grandfathers were stationed in Europe and our grandmothers were working and rationing supplies on the home front. They tell of the courtship between our parents while they were in college, or while Dad was in Vietnam and Mom was waiting for him to come home. Maybe it's just a stack of Hallmark cards, tied with a ribbon up in someone's closet, commemorating anniversaries, birthdays, Christmases, or expressing sympathy at the loss of a loved one.

I remember writing letters as a kid. Letters home from summer camp, letters to my pen pal, Becky, who lived in Muskegon, Mi. In high school and college...before email...I would stay in touch with friends scattered about via snail mail. I still have some of those letters.

As much as I am a 21st century girl...I love my laptop, Facebook, email, blogging, sending text messages, and Instant Messinger...I am interested in how the record of personal correspondence is going to be preserved. Everything is stored in cyberspace...or on the hard drive of a computer that will be obsolete in two years...or on a CD or DVD that will be obsolete in less than ten. Where will the record of our personal lives be? In a landfill somewhere? Will our grandchildren go through our Rubbermaid tubs someday after we are long gone and find a stack of CDs and DVDs on a spindle and ask, "What are these," and then be told that there is no way to view all of the history and pictures contained there because the technology is obsolete?

And I'll be perfectly honest: I miss getting letters in the mail. The kind that serve no purpose at all except to stay connected to someone who isn't as close as I would like them to be. I think...in all my spare time...I am going to see if I can remember how to put pen to paper and do some "old-fashioned letter writing."

So listen for the clatter of your mailbox. Who knows? It just may be...

Mister Postman with a letter from me.

To All The Moms I Know...From My Mom

2009-01-08T11:26:00.003-06:00

This is also for all of you who maybe don't have children of your own but are lovingly assisting your sisters, friends, parents, neighbors with theirs as you love and support them. And also to you dads out there who are raising your children in this capacity, as well. The roles of "father and mother" are getting more and more blurred...many dads feel these same things, as well.

My mom sent this to my sister and me in an email today. I have no idea who wrote it...I did not, but please enjoy.

I love you all!

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please." I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when my friend turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: " With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected

no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything. A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a

beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees."

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is

too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my daughter to tell the friend she's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving , "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want her to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to her friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen ifwe're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Great Job, MOM!

It Is a Woman's Prerogative to Change Her Mind

2009-01-07T12:27:00.002-06:00

Okay...so I NEVER post twice on the same day...but I have a "post it" or "lose it" kind of brain these days...

Me: I am going to Sonic. I am in desperate NEED of a diet Coke. J, would you like a slushy?

J: Yes, yes, yes!!!

Me: What flavor?

J: Strawberry or cherry.

Me: Okay...

J: Or watermelon.

Me: I can't handle all of those options. Why don't you just pick a flavor?

J: Oh. Okay. Grape!

Me: ?????

Upon returning with the "goods"...

J: Is this red one my strawberry slushy, Mommy?

Me: ?!?!? You ordered grape. That is for your brother.

J: Oh yeah. Grape. Thanks!

On a completely unrelated note...I am in a desperate need of a haircut...and WAY too busy to fix my hair these days. So yesterday, I got out the "dippity do" and slicked it back into a small ponytail at the nape of my neck. Not flattering. I look like a middle-aged spinster school teacher.

So would someone please tell me WHY IN THE WORLD THREE...three, people...family members would tell me yesterday how nice I looked? And there wasn't a TRACE of sarcasm in their voices--I know--I have a sarcasm radar.

Is it because I actually brushed my hair?

I Was Really Going to Try to Post Something on Tuesday But Didn't Make It In Time, So, Here's...Wordless Wednesday!

2009-01-06T23:25:00.005-06:00

Musical Monday

2009-01-05T22:44:00.001-06:00

I, however, have NO problem with the line of MY beads... :o)

Necessity is the Mother of Invention (or Things You Want to Do Will Prove to be Much More Difficult Than You Thought)

2009-01-04T00:15:00.004-06:00

I live in a 1960s tract house. It is a three bedroom ranch with a single car garage and a full basement that is finished, albeit not the way that I would have done it, had it been up to me.

And for the most part, I am in love with it. It has oak floors, redwood siding and floor joists, a "somewhat" roomy eat-in kitchen, a decent sized lot, and the location is perfect for us.

Before I "owned" my own home, I could never understand why people would let their older homes become so "dated." I would look around older homes and naively judge the owners for their blond woodwork, or their outdated wallpaper. Or I'd look at the obviously late 1980s kitchen remodel in the house built in 1950 and wonder why the owner still had dusty mauve countertops and flowery wallpaper with a matching border in their kitchen. Did they just really like that look, or were they completely unaware of HGTV?

I am smarter now. And much less judgmental. Keeping a house "updated" takes lots of time or lots of money. And usually it takes both. You can either pay out a semester's college tuition to have someone else do it (easier), or you can do it yourself (cheaper). We have done a little of both, but mostly "do it yourself."

My most recent "Honey, this will make the house look so much better--you'll see" idea was to paint all of our honey oak trim white. Little did I know what we were in for. Cleaning, sanding, priming, painting, more sanding, more painting. Oh, and all of the doors have to be painted, too. And you don't just slap latex paint from Wal Mart on the trim, either. Nope. Oil based paint, with a minimum of 24 hours drying time between each coat. It's enough to make a person crazy!!

And then I started doing the math. Three days from primer to finished product, but a door (remember, all of the doors need to be painted, too) has two sides! So that means six days before I have a door back on my bathroom! Well, this got Brian's creative juices flowing. He ransacked my sewing notions and rigged this. And no, it isn't the set of Monsters Inc.

It's amazing what can be done with elastic, velcro, a couple of screws, and the garage door assembly! Now I should have a bathroom door in three days!

Just in time, I'm sure, for blond woodwork to make a comeback.

That Time of Year...Again

2009-01-01T08:51:00.002-06:00

Well, today is the day. The first day of the new year. "First days" have always been exciting for me. They seem like an opportunity to start over...make changes...be better.

For example, I always enjoyed the first day of school, because for at least one day I could be all of those things I wanted to be...organized...smart...studious... It never lasted very long, but my soul has always craved those chances to "begin anew." I know...I know. Every day is the first day of the rest of your life, so why do you need a specific "day" to make changes? I have no idea. But I love Sundays (the first day of a new week), the first day of a new month, the start of the school year, the start of summer vacation, the first day in a new house, and I love New Year's Day.

And every year I make resolutions for the new year. Sometimes I write them down. Many times I don't. Sometimes I give them a different name...goals...objectives...wishes...prayers. But they are all essentially the same. Resolutions to make this year somehow different or better from last year. And essentially the same thing happens every time. I do very well for a couple of weeks, days, or hours, and then I slip back into my previous ways, or the exact opposite of what I wanted to accomplish happens. And I have some data to back this up, people. At least 25 to 30 years of it!

I am assuming that this year will be just like all those others, so I am on a quest to "outsmart" the "New Year's Resolution" gig...a little "reverse psychology," if you will. So here is my list of New Year's Resolutions for 2009:

~Gain 20 pounds by eating nothing but junk and never exercising.

~Spend recklessly.

~Let my Bible spend the entire year unopened and gathering dust on my nightstand.

~Ignore all of my long-distance friends.

~Swear off household chores and organization.

~Provide an environment where my teenage daughter is literally counting the days until she gets to move out and go to college.

~Make school around here as boring and as painful as possible for all involved.

~Waste massive quantities of time by watching "The Sopranos" and once I've gone through all of those, "The Office," or "Scrubs," or something else as equally valuable.

~Learn nothing new at all this year.

~Become clinically depressed.

I'll let you know how the experiment goes.

Happy 2009, Everyone!

Wordless Wednesday

2008-12-31T01:21:00.002-06:00

Musical Monday

2008-12-29T10:35:00.004-06:00

I am a musical buff. I think it started when I was five and my grandmother took me to see The Sound of Music at the Glenwood Theater. Ever since then, I've been hooked.

My favorite part of the PBS telethon every year was when they would show a musical. Music Man, Oklahoma!, My Fair Lady, West Side Story...

"Theater in the Park," the musicals at Starlight, and my high school put on a pretty good musical every year (especially the years of 1991, 1992, 1993, 1994 :o) )--all of these combined to keep my musical appetite satiated for much of my growing up years.

It is such a good thing that I don't hail from "The Big Apple." Otherwise, I'd never see the light of day. I'd spend all of my time in a darkened theater.

The amusing thing about this obsession is that I absolutely CANNOT sing. And except for a small chorus part in Milburn Jr. High's production of Oklahoma! in seventh grade, I have been content to be merely a spectator of these magical masterpieces.

So since I imagine you the reader are getting tired of the same old posts about my messy house, my amazing children, and the insanity that floods my brain constantly, I am going to give you another reprieve in addition to Wordless Wednesday.

I am introducing new for 2009 (you can consider this one to be the "pilot episode"), Musical Monday, where I will post for you some of my favorite songs from my favorite musicals.

And the huge bonus is...

I will not be the one singing them!!

Enjoy!

Sabbath Prayer - Fiddler On The Roof - Soundtrack

The Next Generation

2008-12-28T23:01:00.003-06:00

All of my grandmother's (we called her Doeie) great-grandchildren. And we anxiously await the

addition of a new baby girl to this party...due any day now!

The cousins on Brian's side of the family. Welcome to the family, little guy! We've

waited a long time for you! It's so nice to have a baby around again!

Needless to say, our children had a ball with all of the family this weekend! As for me, I got to

~enjoy the wit and intelligence of my thirteen year old neice and my twelve year old nephew. It is so much fun to see them grow into the fabulous people they are going to be!

~play with one of the most amazing one-year-olds on the planet, my cousin's son, and

~have the most breathtaking seven-week-old, my husband's new nephew...he's kind enough to share with me...fall asleep on my shoulder.

All is right in my world. And I have such high hopes for the next generation...

THIS is a REALLY GREAT Guy!!

2008-12-26T17:53:00.001-06:00

www.cpatechadvisor.com/40under40/2008ebook

Check him out on page 28/29!!

How Can This Be?

2008-12-25T22:42:00.002-06:00

The angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end."

Luke 1:30-33

Just one of the many miracles of this season.

Wordless Wednesday...A Couple of Minutes Late

2008-12-25T00:11:00.003-06:00

Rediscovering the Joy

2008-12-21T10:35:00.004-06:00

I am a home schooling mother. I know that I am stating the obvious for you, the reader (all three of you). It is a huge part of my identity, but it is also probably the part of my identity that I am least honest about with others. I don't talk about it much unless people ask, and when they ask how things are going, I almost always say "Fine" or "Great." Even if things aren't fine. Or great.

There are a myriad of reasons for this, but one of the biggest reasons is that education can be an emotionally charged issue for many of us. Hopefully, all of us were educated in some capacity, and we have feelings about that experience. And many of us have been in the position of making educational decisions for someone else...usually our children.

Now, I am a "teacher by trade," which in no way makes me more qualified to home school...but that's another post, entirely. Many applications and interviews for teaching positions generally include a question about the teacher's philosophy of education. Over the years, my philosophy of education has become incredibly simple.

I believe that all children have the ability to learn, and should be given the best opportunity possible to do so. And I believe that ultimately, the responsibility for an individual child's education rests not with the federal, state, or local governing bodies or a school's administration, or even the individual classroom teacher. It rests with the parent or guardian of the individual child.

That doesn't mean that every parent should home school, but it does mean that as parents, we have a serious responsibility to be involved in our child's education, and be constantly evaluating that process and how it is working. Sometimes that means asking the hard questions...and getting the hard answers.

I did not start home schooling because I had this burning desire to educate my children at home. In fact, initially, I had NO desire to educate my children at home. :o) I wanted my daughter to go to the small, private school where I had taught. It had a reputation for academic excellence, small class sizes, and half-day kindergarten. :o) But it cost money. Money that we didn't have, unless I wanted to go back to work. So I began home schooling.

I was unprepared for what a rewarding experience it would be. I had been in the classroom. I had seen the "lightbulb" go on when a child "got" a concept, and it was amazing to behold. But those experiences paled in comparison to seeing the "lightbulb" in my own children--snuggled up next to them as I watched with rapt amazement as they sounded out a consonant, vowel, and a consonant to come up with "cat" and the look of wonder on their faces when they realized that they read and comprehended a word. There were many such wondrous moments in the early years.

I have a dear friend who takes very seriously her responsibility for her daughter's education. She is constantly evaluating and asking the hard questions, and jumping in with both feet to do whatever it takes to help her beautiful girl be successful. Very recently, that has involved the decision to school at home.

We were visiting the other day about how it was going. My friend was glowing! She was so excited about the "lightbulb" experience, and the joy of being able to take a small diversion during a math lesson to have a discussion that would've otherwise been missed in a traditional school setting.

And in visiting with her, I came face-to-face with something that I have been suspecting but have largely ignored. I have lost that joy in my own home school. School around here has become one more thing in an impossibly long list of things to get done. The students aren't happy...the teacher isn't happy. I have been neglecting my responsibility to my children. I am still providing the curriculum...and the instruction...but I haven't asked the hard questions. I've stopped evaluating.

So, to you four students, who mean the world to me, I sincerely apologize, and I humbly ask for your forgiveness. And I promise...that if I get nothing else done over this two week break, I will find a way to rediscover the joy.

A Little Kansas Weather Math

2008-12-19T07:57:00.002-06:00

(3 days of below freezing weather + 3 to 4 inches of snow) + (50 degrees last night + rain) = a sheet of ice in the school bus stop parking lot, and Casey almost plowing into another parent's car...her physician, no less!

Gotta love small towns.

And winter.

And Kansas.

Occupational Hazard of Being a Pirate Who Doesn't Do Anything (AKA Wordless Wednesday)

2008-12-17T21:52:00.004-06:00

Grumpy Old Men

2008-12-16T17:56:00.004-06:00

I remember being delighted by snow as a kid. I would wake up on winter mornings and dash to the big window in the living room...hoping that the ground would be covered in a blanket of white. It was a big bonus if school was also cancelled. But even if it wasn't, snow was fun! We'd bundle up, go outside, stay out long enough to get thoroughly cold and wet (probably all of ten minutes) and then come back in, leaving our mom to deal with the puddles where snow melted off of our boots, soggy mittens, and wet clothes.

So this morning, when I looked outside our big living room window, I saw that my front yard was covered with a blanket of white and big, beautiful flakes were falling from the sky. I ran downstairs to the boys' bedroom. Normally, my children aren't easy risers...it appears that they got something from me genetically. But surely the announcement of SNOW would have them popping up out of bed and racing for their boots.

Umm...yeah...not so much. The nine-year-old rolled over in his bed and started crying (tears and everything). "I HATE snow!!" he lamented. The eleven-year-old (who is too big to cry) started grumbling. "UGGGHH!! WHY does it have to SNOW??? I can't STAND the snow!!"

My chin dropped. I rubbed my eyes and took a better look at my children. Yep. They were mine. The same ones I had tucked into bed last night. But seriously??? Not like snow?? Is that normal for kids? I mean, I don't like snow...but that didn't happen until I was sixteen and got the dubious honor of driving in it--which quickly ended my love-affair with the frozen stuff.

Now, as a "happy homeowner," I also get to shovel it...reinforcing my dislike.

Then it dawned on me: My boys dislike snow because it puts a serious cramp in their daily paper route. Normally, they hop on their bikes and zip through it in fifteen minutes. Today, they had to pull on boots and trudge through twenty feet of snow...uphill...both ways...to deliver our ten page (on a newsy day) paper to all of the subscribers in our neighborhood.

Responsibility sure is a fun-killer.

Wordless Wednesday

2008-12-10T12:06:00.002-06:00

Picky Picky

2008-12-05T08:31:00.002-06:00

We feed our cats Science Diet Hairball Control cat food. The other day, I accidentally bought Science Diet Hairball Control Light instead of the regular variety. My cats won't eat it. Apparently even feline diet food sucks.

What??? Am I Insane???

2008-12-03T09:51:00.002-06:00

I blogged yesterday about thinking it was neat that someone would find their soul mate when they were in eighth grade.

And it occured to me at 2am this morning...I have a daughter in 8th grade!!!!

I officially amend what I said in my previous blog...It is neat that OTHER PEOPLE can find their soul mates in 8th grade...but not my daughter.

I mean, she was just three YESTERDAY, for Heaven's sake!!

Things That Make Me Smile

2008-12-02T14:14:00.003-06:00

Okay--I hate this time of year. Yes. You read that right. And yes, you read the title correctly, too. I'll get to the connection, I really will. So...I hate this time of year. It is cold, dark and gloomy; stores are crowded; and I have lost all of my "oomph" from the beginning of the school year. All of this combined feeds my melancholy side. Or maybe it's seasonal affective disorder. But in an effort to try to combat the doldrums...I'm making a list of things that make me smile.

~My potato masher. I think I got it as a wedding present, so it's seen better days, but it mashes potatoes and other items perfectly. It is strong enough that it hasn't bent, and it is a circle...with just the right diameter to fit nicely in a tuna fish can or the 8 oz can of crushed pineapple that I use in my cheese ball--perfect for draining.

~Facebook. I had a facebook account for a couple of years and did virtually nothing with it. For some reason, I am now actually checking it regularly. It has been very fun to get in touch with people that I haven't seen in years as well as people I visit with every day. I enjoy reading what people are doing "right now." I discovered a friend from high school that I hadn't seen since graduation. She dated the same boy from the end of 8th grade all the way through high school, and they are now married with two beautiful boys. I think about the boys that I liked in 8th grade, and I am so happy I'm not married to them now. But I think it's so neat that it is possible to meet your "soul mate" in 8th grade.

~Automatic dishwashers and washing machines. I don't particularly like using them (meaning I don't really like to load the dishwasher or do laundry) but I do like what they represent...that I don't have to wash dishes or clothing for a family of six by hand. And I miss them terribly when they aren't working properly.

~The way a baby's head and breath smells.

~Profound truth spoken within the covers of a children's book.

~Gilmore Girls--I have all seven seasons on DVD--and I watch them over and over. They get more and more entertaining every time I see them.

~My daughter, emptying her wallet into the "Salvation Army" bucket outside of JC Penney.

~Unsecured wireless internet at the coffee shop across the street from my daughter's dance studio...enabling me to work (or blog) while I wait...

*Author's note: I purchase a cup of coffee from said establishment every time I use their internet...just so you know...

~Watching my daughters dance.

~iTunes. I can find a song whenever I want. And for ninety-nine cents! Without leaving my home.

~The smell of a used bookstore.

~Good Indian food.

~The fact that my sons are each other's best friend--and the hope that some day, when seven years isn't such a huge age span, my daughters will be, too.

~Coffee (or wine) and fellowship with friends.

~My brother's facial expressions.

~Clean socks that have been "mated" and don't have to be "dug for" in a laundry basket.

~A run on a cool and drizzly day.

~Audiobooks.

~My sister.

~The Country Club Plaza this time of year.

What would you add??