Major Milestones Attempted

I had lofty goals for Memorial Day Weekend.
1. Build the fence.
2. Potty Train the 2 year old.
3. My son added a third - say good-bye to training wheels.


You already know how the fence thing turned out. Enough said.


The bike riding was the highlight of the weekend. Five minutes after the training wheels came off, I took this picture. Instant success and celebration. We officially said good-bye to the training wheels and moved on to bigger and better things.



Zero success with the potty training. Five minutes into potty training we were changing wet underwear. And again 20 minutes later...and 30 minutes later...and 15 minutes later. My friend calls it trick peeing. Whatever it's called, he does it - all the time. We officially said good-bye to the potty chair and moved on to bigger and better diapers.

He Loves Me...He Loves Me Not....

He loves me. It's official. Not that I've ever questioned it. But after 11 years of marriage (this coming Saturday), I put him to a pretty big test this morning. My husband has been working on building a fence around our very large back yard. He has been fighting the weather, Lowe's to get the right supplies, more weather, and now....well....me. On Saturday he and his friend put together all of the posts and crossbars for the front of the fence and concreted the posts into the ground. Today was the day to put on the vertical slats to make it look like a real fence instead of a cattle fence.

I walked outside at 8:45 this morning. He had started putting up the vertical slats - on the inside of the fence. I politely told him that they were on the wrong side of the fence, fully expecting a "Good grief, what am I doing?...". No such luck. He wanted them on the inside. He wanted the inside of the fence to look the best because that's where we would be spending most of our time.

I disagreed - with a vengeance. A nice vengeance, but whole-hearted disagreement nonetheless. We discussed and debated it for awhile, and of course, our faithful helper friend drove in right at that moment. As he walked up I warned him we were having a little debate. "A friendly debate?" he questioned. Ummm....not really.

My loving husband stood there and basically let me decide the outcome. It was a "speak now or forever hold your peace" moment. I spoke. And they started taking the fence apart.

I assumed this meant taking off the slats he had just put on (about 12 or so) and nailing them on the other side. No big deal. Thirty minutes later I wandered slowly in that direction and realized that I was wrong. Big deal. They now had to take off every crossbar and every bracket on the entire fence, move the bracket, fasten it back on, and put the crossbar back in.

Serious guilt set in. But not enough to change my mind. By 11:00 they were finished with that process.

On this side.
Unfortunately, there is a section on the other side of the house just like this one.

Which would be where these two gentlemen are at this precise minute. I'm sure they are out there singing my praises and thanking God for the day they met me.

I have a feeling I may be paying for this one for a very long time.

But, I still hold to the fact that this all could have been avoided...and I said this as lovingly as possible...if he just would have asked me first!

I knew all would be okay when I walked out there an hour into demolitian and he said in a half loving, half disgusted voice, "You should NEVER have to wonder about how much I love you." Awwww....he's sweet even when he wants to throw his hammer at me.

Frustration

Warning: This post contains information relevant to no one but the author. Reading may produce extreme fatigue, lethargy, or periods of extended slumber.

Somewhere out there is a bigwig superintendent sitting in his cushy office laughing at me. And he is shouting out loud, "I TOLD YOU SO." Eleven years ago this April I began interviewing for teaching positions. I had my first interview at an area public school. A few days later I had an interview set up at an area private school. I had no public/private opinions or agendas, I was just an innocent would-be graduate looking for a job. The day before my private school interview, I got offered the job at the public school. They graciously allowed me to wait until after my next interview to give them an answer.


During my private school interview with the entire Board of Education, I was asked if I was willing to give up twice the pay and come work for them. The word "yes" flew out of my mouth before I even knew what was happening. I almost said, "Did I say that out loud?" It was a God thing - it had to be. Or it was a nervous, young, green female not in control of her own mouth. I'm going with the God thing.

I called the public school and told them I accepted another job. The guy asked where, so I told him. He did everything he could to hold back his complete disgust, but let me know in no uncertain terms that I had made the wrong decision. He said I would lose benefits, huge retirement (KAPERS) bonuses, and the stigma of working in a state-accredited school. His attitude confirmed to me that I had made the right decision, and off I went merrily along my teaching way.

I have never for one moment regretted my decision. I knew then and still know it was the right thing, in spite of the financial hit and all those other things that superintendent so sweetly told me about.

But the man was right about one thing...the state-accredited school part. I could care less about the stigma, but the accreditation deal is causing me extreme frustration at the moment. I have two career goals running around in my mind, and both require a Master's Degree. I'm good with that. I'm ready to find a good program, jump in, and get the degree I need and want. But good programs want state-accredited experience. Imagine that.


The really frustrating part is that I have that experience, it just doesn't count. The school I taught at was accredited 5 years ago by a legit accrediting agency, but the state board of education didn't decide it was legit until 2005. Now they do. Which is great. But.way.too.late.


Nine years of teaching. Three years of "accredited" teaching. But only one year counts in the eyes of the state. Which means I cannot get in to any Master's program that I want to. Not that I can't get into ANY Master's program, just not the ones that offer exactly what I was looking for. To do that, I would have to complete a second year of state-accredited experience, and be at least in my third before I start. That throws off my plan completely, which I admit is difficult for my brain to handle. I'm a plan kind of girl.

Now I'm back to the drawing board. More prayer. More research. More planning. I'll keep you posted. I know the suspense is killing you.

My son has a new fascination with the clock radio/alarm. So much in fact that we found an old one in the basement and he begged us to let him have it in his room. Yesterday after his nap he came running out saying, "Mom, come here! I found some fun, fast music on stations 100 and 103! You know, the kind of music that we sing in Children's Church!"

"Really? Ok, show me."

"Here it is! Come listen."

"Whose bed have your boots been under?

And whose heart did you steal I wonder?

This time did it feel like thunder, baby?

Whose bed have your boots been under?"

Yep, just like children's church.

One Of Those Days

It all started with an innocent conversation at lunch about going camping. Which led to talking about the new tent we were given for Christmas. Which led to thousands of questions from our analytical/logical/concrete thinker 5 year old. Which led to daddy saying we could set up the tent that evening in the basement and sleep in it. The whole family.

I knew that would throw a bit of a wrench in the restful Sunday I had planned, but I didn't fight it. Right after daddy and son made a quick trip to pick up our fencing materials that had come in at Lowe's, they could come home, set up the tent, watch Extreme Makeover with me, and picnic in front of the TV for dinner.

But the truck was "deader than a doornail" as my son put it, which caused a late start.
And most of the fencing they had special ordered for us had been ordered wrong.
And they had ONE post in stock. We needed 18 more.
And the brackets were too long.
And the concrete prices all changed.
And the vacation days planned for the 5-day-weekend of fence building are shot.
And now the fencing will be here just in time for....harvest.

Four-and-a-half hours later they returned from the "quick trip to Lowe's, just in time for the kids to torment each other through the entire 2 hour Season Finale.

Then the tent came out. And went up.

And two hours past bedtime, the boys laid down and finally went to sleep. The parents, however, realized that the water system is quite loud downstairs, the tent is noisy when the 2 year old keeps kicking it in his sleep, the five year old sneezes and laughs in his sleep, and the 2 year old snores really loud.

And then at 3:00 a.m. the fire pager went off. As my husband flew up the stairs, I thought to myself that the pager beeps sounded different than normal, but I just ignored it. Twenty minutes later I went upstairs to go to the bathroom and saw my husband laying in our bed. WHAT???

Being the sweet wife that I am, I didn't bother him to ask him about it, but instead went back down with the boys so I could lay awake until 5:00 a.m.

This morning, while administering caffeine injections, I found out that he thought he turned his pager to vibrate last night, but instead turned it to the channel that receives all the calls for the entire county. Oops.

Yeah right, oops. He spent half the night in a BED!

Lack of Entertainment

Okay, so the good thing about living in the country is that when you wake up in the early morning thinking that you are being attacked and that a plane is going to crash into your house at any second, you soon realize that it is only a crop duster spraying the fields right next to your house.

Then you get weird and wake up your kids so they can see it.

And then you realize that you must be suffering from a severe lack of entertainment.

And that you've just been doused with gallons and gallons of chemicals. Nice.

RIP??

I've been putting it off for days, but today I finally decided I had to make bread. Now let's set one thing straight here before I get a bunch of sassy comments about the fact that I make my own bread. I don't really like to make bread (or much else for that matter), it's not fun for me, it makes a mess, and I don't ever really know how it's going to turn out. I do it for one reason - the health benefit for my family. Well, that, and it tastes really good.

Today I had all my ingredients in and was getting to that frustrating part of knowing how much flour to add. Too sticky? Not enough? More? Too much? That's when I noticed my Kitchenaid sounded funny. The gears were making a weird sound, it started smelling really hot, and was that seriously smoke I saw?

I walked away and came back and sure enough, that corner of the kitchen had a nice hazy look to it. I stood there staring at it not sure what was causing me more frustration - the fact that my mixer may have just completely died, or the fact that I was now going to have to knead the dough by hand.

I actually did it, then checked "upper body workout" off my list for today, and decided that store bought bread is looking healthier every minute.

I was definitely born in the right century.

Happy Mother's Day

On Saturday we went to the lake to celebrate Mother's Day with my mom and dad. It was the first weekend out with the camper and boat, and the boys were soooo excited. We debated all week - do we go Saturday or Sunday? There was a small chance of rain Saturday, but it was supposed to be warmer. Sunday was supposed to be sunny, but it was supposed to be cooler and windier.


Ha. There is no such thing as forecasting the weather in the Midwest. This was pretty much our day.



9:30 - Head out for a day of fun on the boat and in the sand. Stop to get Mother's Day cards on the way because we had a serious lack of planning for this weekend.



10:30 - Arrive at the lake. Sit outside in the brrrrrrrr cold morning air with sweatshirts and blankets while the kids play in the rocks. Ahhhh, summer.



11:30 - Lunch. Inside the camper because it is still too cold to eat outside.



12:30 - The boys are begging to go on the mile long nature trail. So, we head out with the little one in the stroller, the big one on his bike, and three adults walking. It has warmed up some and is a little breezy, so it is now perfect weather for this venture. About 1/2 way through the trail, we realize that apparently not that long ago the lake had flooded. Big time. The trail was covered with logs, brush, and misc debris that had been swept on land with the flood. The 5 year old soon started walking, I was carrying his bike, and the 2 year old got airlifted in his stroller through most of it by dad and sometimes grandma. We needed hiking boots and all-terrain bikes.



1:30 - We arrive back in civilization and notice that the wind has completely gone down. We head back to the camper to beg grandpa for a boat ride while it was nice outside. He had been watching the weather - storms by 3:00 and 40 mph wind advisory starting at 4:00.



2:00 - He relents and takes us out. All the while my 5 year old says, "It looks like it's building up out here. Look at those clouds. We'd better head in." He has a future in meteorology. We headed in when we felt the first sprinkle.



3:00 - The boat is back on the trailer, the life jackets put away, and the tarp put back on. And none too soon. In not too long, the lake looked like this.




5:00 - My 2 year old wakes up from his nap and climbs up on grandma's lap. She discovers a huge, gigantic tick on his head. He comes to my lap. I discover a second smaller, yet still disturbing, tick on his head. The next hour entails lots of crying and screaming and frazzled nerves, but the tick removal was successful. I'm so glad my mom is a nurse.


7:00 - We finally made dinner, which was incredible in spite of not being able to use the grill, and enjoyed the last few hours of our day at the lake...ummm...in the camper. It was a good day in spite of all the crazy. At least there were no shortage of memories made.

However, I did enjoy my weekend just a bit more when my husband surprised me by lining up his parents to watch the kids on Sunday so we could enjoy a Mother's Day shopping trip just for me!

Hesitant Husband

The other day my 2 year old ran up to my husband and said, "Mama is a nice girl." To which my husband replied, "Yes, she is. That's why I married her."

Completely clueless, the 2 year old then ran over to me and shouted, "I married you!"

Which led to my 5 year old asking me who he was going to marry. I told him I didn't know who he was going to marry, only God knew that.

He was a bit in awe that God would already know who he was going to "pick" (like he's picking apples at the grocery store...I think he thinks it's like that...). But he then launched into his plan. That's my boy, a man with a plan.

First he told me he wanted to marry his brother. Sweet, but we got that one cleared up right away.

Then he said, "I am going to pick someone who is really nice, someone who I get along with really well. I'm not sure if it will be someone I know already, or someone I will meet later. I think it will have to be someone around my age. Maybe not my exact age, but someone close. And she'll have to be a really nice girl (got that already...) and fun to be with."

Then he paused to think for a minute and said, "I think I might know her already, but I don't think I should pick one right away. I think it would be good to look around for awhile before I choose someone."

That's a relief.

This Week

Things I've Learned This Week:

~Apparently, when you live in a small town you can go into a store, get what you need, walk out, and call in later to report what you took when you were in earlier. On Saturday morning when we were waiting for help at the local lumber yard, the lone employee was crazy busy, and two guys said to each other, "I guess we'll just call in later to let him know what we took." Okay........Later that night we were at Lowe's waiting forever for someone to help us. I wondered if we could use the same tactic there. We decided not to try it.

~When the children are fighting and ready to kill each other and you're ready to...well...let's just say 'not have a glorious parenting moment', get out the kids' cookbook at let them pick out something to make. It might be a good idea to set some boundaries. My kids, of course, picked this.

Puzzle Cookie

I actually had all the ingredients and blindly said, "okay." Anything to stop the fighting. It is always a good idea, however, to read through the entire recipe before beginning. I wasn't popular when after we had almost all of the ingredients mixed together, I discovered we had to refrigerate the dough for 8 HOURS. Great.

It looks just like....almost like....somewhat resembles the picture...at least it is rectangular like the picture.

~Life is just better when my closet is organized, the towel cabinet is neat and tidy, and the kid's closets are ready for summer.

~If you have a shirt hanging in your closet that you wore on your honeymoon---THROW IT OUT. And the overalls too. That's almost too embarrassing to admit.

~It will take nearly one ton of concrete to fence in our backyard. And no, the fence is not made of concrete.

~One of my new favorite kid musicians is Dan Zanes. Thank you, Jamie! My kids love it, except the 2 year old cries when "Catch That Train" is over. Thank the Lord for the repeat button.

~Locating 26 addresses of classmates to send invites for a 15 year reunion is MUCH harder than I thought it would be. Actually 19 of them weren't difficult, it's the last 7 that are driving me crazy.

"No, I'm not done!"

Ahhh....it's almost bedtime. You have one bath complete, the pajamas on, and the 2nd child is in the bathtub.

Then you hear the child in the bathtub screaming, "EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY!"

With a hint of laughter in his voice.

And you run in to see this.

I guess he didn't think we were serious when we said he had been in the bathtub long enough.

High Standards

5 year old: Why do I have to pick up all this by myself?

Me: Because you were mean to your brother, so you have to clean up his mess to show him that you love him.

5 year old: But he was mean to me too. He hit me.

Me: Yes, he did. But only after you blocked him from his toy, shoved him, and held him from getting what he wanted.

5 year old: But, mom, I'm only a kid.

Me: Yes, I realize that. But kids can understand that you need to be kind.

5 year old: But this is going to take forever!

Me: I hope it will help you remember to be kind to your brother.

5 year old: But mom....but...but...I can't be PERFECT!!

Black Thumb

It is no secret that I have a terrible black thumb. The joke in our family is that my husband and I will kill even plastic plants. We don't garden, we don't have plants in the house (or outside for that matter), and we have absolutely no landscaping out front. My husband did plant some kind of evergreen type of tree along the road and along the back of our property, but only because they are the kind that could practically grow in the Sahara.

Lately, however, I have been inundated with flowers. My son brought his sunflower home from preschool, we all received flowers at MOPS to plant; and of course, out of 60 women in the room, I was the one who won the centerpiece flower arrangement to take home. If they only knew.

All of this made me think that maybe I should start putting together a plan for a bit of landscaping - or at least a nice flowerbed. But considering I don't have the first clue of what to do, that never happened.

Then this morning my friend came to pick up my son for preschool. Two little girls hopped out of the van (the two girls I babysit twice a week), one with pink flowers and one with purple. They came up to the house with the cutest smiles saying, "Happy May Day!" They had each picked out their favorite colors for me and were so proud to make their delivery.

So, now it's official. I have to figure out what I'm doing! The flowers are too pretty and my girls are too sweet to let them die on the kitchen counter (the flowers, not the girls). I read the back of the flower card and it is all greek to me. Mounded...Zones...Deadheading....What? The only thing I understood was how far to space them apart - that's how my brain works, in numbers. Do I have to plant them right away? And where is the best spot? Do I dig up an area in front of my porch or do I buy something to plant them in to sit on my porch? Somebody help me. I don't care that you're all laughing at me.

Here's my favorite part of the back of the card:

CARE: Easy

Now that's funny.