Fun for All

Another reason I love my new washer and dryer -- hours of entertainment.

ZZZZzzzz

I got an interesting email today. It's an excel spreadsheet created to give you all kinds of statistics about yourself after you enter in your birthday. I now know that I have been alive for 393 months, or 287,250 hours, or 1,034,100,085 seconds...whichever way you prefer to count it out.

I also discovered that I have been wasting my life away sleeping. No wonder there are so many things in this world that I want to do that I haven't yet accomplished. I've spent 3,990 days sleeping, which is 10.9 years, which is 33% of my life! OK, so technically, we all spend approximately 33% of our lives sleeping, but 10.9 years of my head on the pillow seems crazy.

Which leads me to ask...why am I so stinkin' tired????

Blogging 101

I'm learning every day that I'm still a novice at this blogging thing. I started a post last week. I decided not to post it, rewrote it, saved it, decided not to post it....you get the picture.

Tonight I was feeling reflective again and decided to post it. Or so I thought.

Where did it go?

Oh. It's down there. With the date that I started it. I don't get that, but I don't make the rules around here.

So, if you're bored, scroll down to last Tuesday to see what I was thinking about then.

HAPPY ADOPTION DAY!

With all the family Easter festrivities this weekend, the official celebration won't happen for a few more days, but Happy Adoption Day anyway to my little guy!

My Addicts

Here they are...

• My TV addict (on the floor) who would watch the television for days and days and days.
• And my....fever addict....(on the coffee table) who seems to like being sick for days and days and days. And when you think he's all done...the fever comes back.

As for me and my sanity, it's either hours of therapy or Sesame Street. Today I'm choosing Sesame Street. It's cheaper.

What Kind Of Dog Is It?

Several people have asked me this question today. Uhhh....I have no idea. I have no shame in admitting I am a dog idiot.

This is what I know:

~It has 4 legs.

~It has a tail.

~It has two ears.

~It barks.

~And it does this to my yard.

And here is a picture of the garbage man himself (or herself -- I didn't check).

Someone please tell me what kind it is so I can sound intelligent.

Calling All Dog People

We have been adopted.

Last Thursday a dog showed up in our yard. It is not unusual for us to have dogs in our yard because the neighbor across the road always has 1 to 4 in her possession at any given time. The people just to the west have 2 running around also, so I didn't think too much about the dog that was hanging out somewhat near to us.

However, it didn't take me long to realize that this was not just a dog walking through for a visit. This one liked our yard, especially our front porch. We ignored it. We told it go home. We were civil to it, but not inviting.

Friday morning as I headed out there was no sight of the dog. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Friday afternoon it was back. I called the neighbor across the road to see if she happened to get a new dog that just didn't like her very much. She said she didn't, but she would love to have it. She even came over, lured it to her house, and fed it. That was so nice! Unfortunately, her current dog is not so nice. He chased it so fast back to our house that the new dog jumped up onto our porch and slammed into our house. Nice.

We weren't home yesterday, so we didn't think much about our new problem. But, today it became apparent that we had to take care of this issue. It's not that I hate dogs, really. I even had one when I was growing up. And I cried when dad had to "take care of it."

But it can't stay. For those of you who think I'm really mean, I have very good reasons. Really. My five year old is deathly scared of dogs. He won't go outside to play anymore. My two year old loves dogs so much he has no common sense around them. I babysit a girl who is allergic to dogs. This dog took a bag of trash out of our dumpster and has trashed our entire 3 acres. See? Good reasons. That, and I don't really like dogs.

Today I started trying to figure out who to call to help us out of this matter. The first person said to call the Sheriff's office. I did.

They said to call the Humane Society. I did. Apparently they are only open from 2-5 on Thursdays and Fridays. Okay...

Someone else said to call a local vet clinic. I did.

They said to call the City Shelter. "Even though I live in the country?" I asked. "Yes." Okay....I did.

The City Shelter said to call the other local vet clinic. I did.

They take country dogs! But....they aren't allowed to come pick them up. Of course they're not.

After work my husband tried to tie up the dog so we could take it in. The dog was not impressed. Being the kind and compassionate guy that he is, my husband decided not to let the dog choke itself to death. It is currently running around with a rope around its neck.

I have no idea what happens next.

The Circle of Life

Last week we went full circle, and I can't get it out of my mind. On Monday my husband I started out the day by attending a funeral. My uncle's mother (not on my side of the family) passed away peacefully in her sleep early Friday morning. We went mostly to support my aunt and uncle, who we have stayed relatively close to in spite of the 3 hours that we live apart from each other.

Funerals always make me reflective. What do I want my funeral to be like? What will people say? How full will the church be? What have or done or can I do that might in some way impact the people who are there? Will I really be remembered the way I think or hope I will be?

Even all those big questions aside, it makes me reevaluate again the little things that drive me crazy day-to-day that really don't matter. After attending the funeral, I got to go back to my daily life while three other adults had to move on grieving the death of their mother. Will I take the time to remember them? To at least send a card or an email and check in on them? Sadly, the answer for me is often no. I have great intentions that seem to get lost in the flurry of diapers and cleaning and putting together puzzles. I haven't even sent thank yous to great friends who brought me things back when I was on crutches. How sad is that.

Speaking of moving on after the funeral, my family then jumped in the van and headed 2 1/2 hours down the interstate to see our friends who had their baby at noon, while we were at the funeral. A beautiful baby boy, 5 lbs., 14 ounces. While I was holding that teeny tiny little guy I started thinking about the circle of life that we had witnessed in a matter of hours. We said goodbye and buried one in the morning, and said hello and welcomed one just a few hours later.

Again, I got to leave that place and go home to my day-to-day world. But my friend is now embarking on the journey of being a first-time mom. She will be experiencing the newness of sleepless nights, nursing a tiny baby, and the overwhelming emotion of caring for such a helpless little person. Will I get so caught up in my own little life that I forget to empathize and reach out? I certainly hope not.

We live in such an amazing world. The details of our existence continue to fill me with awe and wonder. It's days like last Monday that continue to remind me that life is not about if your house is clean enough for friends to enter, or whether or not dinner is on the table at the perfect time every day. My to-do list should be more about helping those in need and reaching out to others than what the paper is typically covered with.

How I can turn this all into action instead of just words, I'm not exactly sure. One day at a time, one moment at a time, I guess. I'm so blessed to be surrounded with people who will help me remember that this world is not all about me, and who will still love me when I act like it is.

10 Weekend Moments

1) Dinner out Friday night at Outback Steakhouse. After a week stuck at home with sick kids, this was heavenly!!

2) I got home from dinner Friday night to discover that my boys had been allowed to sleep together in my 5 year old's double bed. I woke up a million times that night awaiting the disaster that would result from the 2 year old not being in his crib. No noise, no issues, no problems. Amazing.

3) The next night the boys wanted to do it again. "Sure," we thought, "it's great for everyone." Or...maybe not. The little brother kept climbing out of bed -- because he could -- and the big brother would try to catch him and take him back before we heard what was going on. Like we wouldn't hear little footsteps and a little bigger footsteps running up and down the hall. It was a really good effort by big brother, but not very effective.

4) My husband lovingly agreed to see a chick flick with me on Saturday. We walked into the theatre and he immediately said, "I feel a bit outnumbered here." Sure enough -- there were 12 women and 0 men.

5) I replenished my sacred make-up supply at Beau Monde. This is a big deal in my world. It would be a big deal in your world too if at age 32 you had more face issues than most teenagers.

6) My husband decided to teach our five year old about multiplication. Huh? I guess it was initially "by accident" but he has now spent two days trying to figure out "2 sets of 6, 3 sets of 3..." and on and on. Oh my. The kid cannot even brush his teeth decently or spit out his toothpaste without soaking the entire counter or mirror. I'm thinking multiplication can wait.

7) My friend just checked into the hospital tonight to get the induction process going! Yay! There should be a baby arrival by this time tomorrow (or I will have one seriously sad friend...).

8) My husband took the day off tomorrow. It makes Sunday night not quite so depressing.

9) I have created a grand total of 16 playdough hats, 32 playdough feet, ("make another man, mommy!") and painted more watercolor pictures this weekend than I thought humanly possible. My child who cannot sit still long enough to count to ten will apparently sit for over 2 hours if you throw enough art his direction.

10) I got nuthin' for this one. Good night.

"I Can't Do That...I'm Siiiccckkkk"

Day Four: Just when you think all is WELL...nope...more fever.

Day Five: Someone just put me in a padded room, please.

Grab a Kleenex

Day one: Fever, some cough.

Day two: Fever, cough.

Day three: Fever, lots of cough - gagging into a trash can coughing.

Night three: Two more hours of cough.

Day four: Still coughing. Very low grade fever. Maybe we are done?? There is a lot of day left.

That's my life in a nutshell. The walls are slowly closing in. On the positive side, my laundry is done, the bathroom floor has been mopped, and I actually know what I'm making for dinner. It just doesn't get any better than this.

My Theories:

1) Cover your mouth when you cough.

2) Cover your mouth when you sneeze.

3) Wash your hands as much as possible.

4) Please always use a Kleenex.

5) If you have to develop a fever, please do so only at home, and when we have not been anywhere else for over 24 hours.

6) If you must vomit, only do so at home, in a bowl, trashcan, or even better, the toilet.



My son's theories:

1) Holding your hand (or any body part) up in the air within 18 inches of your mouth counts as "covering your mouth".

2) Covering your mouth when you sneeze just gets your hand or arm gross, so it's better to sneeze wild and free.

3) Wash your hands only when mom tells you to.

4) The back of your hand, arm, or shirt works better than a Kleenex, and it's always available.

5) When developing a fever, do so immediately following contact with at least 35 innocent kids. And make sure at least one of them was under 12 months old.

6) The best place to vomit is at church, 20 miles from home, soaking clothes, and the favorite Webkinz.

I'm thinking since God is all-knowing, He could have preprogrammed my children to be a bit more connected to my theories.

huh?

Could someone please tell me why the tiny little person that lives in this house is running around saying this:

"What the...(little pause)...heaven is this?!"

Last Friday my friend was babysitting my boys and they went to the Christian book store for a few minutes to buy a birthday gift. She told me they walked into the store and she heard my 2 year old start loudly saying, "What the..." and she got really nervous for a moment. Then he followed it up with "...heaven is this?"

It is driving me crazy that I don't know where he learned this very...uh...interesting phrase.

The Saga is Over

These picutres are days old, but I'm posting them anyway. At the possibility (growing by the day) that my lofty goal of scrapbooking is never accomplished, this may be my only documentation of my sweet baby's life. So just bear with me while I document some history.

Friday

Saturday

Sunday

Today!

The Tooth Fairy is Working Overtime

My son lost his first tooth several weeks ago when his cousin threw Guido (from the Cars movie) down the steps and it hit him right in the mouth. After much searching, we determined that he must have swallowed the tooth. We assured him that the tooth fairy would still know he lost his tooth and would come because that wasn't his fault that the tooth would not be under his pillow.

Yesterday, we were eating at Pizza Hut when my son stopped chewing and took something out of his mouth. He, of course, handed it to me and said, "what's that?"

Sure enough, it was tooth number two. None of us even knew it was loose. He was so excited to have this tooth because just last week he got a "tooth saver" treasure chest from the dentist (who he keeps calling the tooth fairy) who came to visit at his preschool.

I should have done the responsible mom thing at that moment and wrapped it in a napkin and put it in the diaper bag. But, no, I set it right there on the table so I "wouldn't lose it." I bet I looked at it 32 times and thought, "Don't forget that."

Five minutes later we were wrapping up lunch and all of the sudden the wind starting blowing about 50 mph and torrential rain fell from the sky. All thoughts turned from the lost tooth to how in the world we were going to get out to our vehicle.

Twenty minutes later we arrived home and I noticed three missed calls on my cell phone. It was my mother, who had taken my son home with her after lunch. She had been calling me since we left the restaurant to see if I remembered the tooth.

Ugh. Of course I didn't remember the tooth. I was trying to figure out how to get to the van alive. We are now 0 for 2 on baby teeth. I'm such a good mom.

My son had pretty good faith in the tooth fairy after the first incident, but you could see his confidence wavering when he realized what we had done. I assured him when I tucked him in that I thought all would be okay, but he was still a little nervous that his money might end up at Pizza Hut.

I was right, it all turned out okay. But for those of you who are still grossed out at the the thought of his tooth laying on tables and ending up who knows where at Pizza Hut, just avoid the little room with the sliding glass doors.