Why not?

We all know they're gimmicks, but sometimes, when you're exhausted and stumbling through Wal-mart, it just sounds like the perfect thing, exactly what you need.....and you buy it. Such was my little vacuum thing. I don't remember the actual name of it. I'm sure it'll come to me and I'll come update. The trek to my broom cupboard is beyond me right now.

There really are moments when I have a small pile of decimated goldfish crackers/cereal/chips/dry play-doh on the carpet, and I don't want to drag out the huge vacuum for the mess. Obviously I need one of these little sweepers. Now, I have a dust-buster. Which is designed precisely for that situation, but it's at the other house, which is a whole two blocks away, I would have to remember where it is, go get it, and then clean up my mess, which is even more complicated then taking the big vacuum out of the hall closet. So, all that to say, I purchased this little handy, dandy sweeper thingy with the disposable sticky things that pick up nasty crud.

One of the advantages of this sticky sweeper method, is that you see, up close and personal, how much truly nasty stuff is in your carpet when you pull out the sticky thing (And, yes, that's the technical term) to throw it away. (Which usually makes you realize that you probably should have used the big vacuum with actual suction power to begin with, but that's not the point here.)

Anyway, all that to say that I've discovered one more use for this little gimmi...errr...sweeper. If you take the middle two links out, it's perfectly sized for young toddlers, and since they decimated the goldfish crackers/cereal/chips/dry play-doh in the first place, it's only just and fair. (And fun to watch, in a fiendish sort of way.)

And now, for something completely different.

This week is actually almost over. I think we've made it. Daddy will be coming home late tonight (if he can make his connecting flight in Memphis. He has about two minutes from when his first flight is supposed to come in and his second flight starts boarding. I guess all that running in high school is going to pay off.) Both kids are healthy, (the chicken pox scare was just me overreacting as usual) and the house, while not technically clean, is presentable.

In honor of hubby returning, I just thought I'd share a little bit about the different gifts he's bought me through the years. I'll have to make it a Thursday Thirteen someday. When he goes on business trips I usually guilt him into bringing something back for the little lady at home. (I can just see my mother, whose love language is as far removed from mine as it gets, and who has the self-confidence of Queen Elizabeth II, rolling her eyes.) He understands me like nobody else, and usually does very well in his choices. He's still a man, of course. For instance, today I asked him what he would be doing while he waited for his flight out of St. Paul, and he said he might wander around the Mall of America. "Do you think there's anything there that you want?" Hmm. Let's think. Biggest mall in the country. "Oh no, honey, you know how happy and fulfilled I am. I can't think of a single thing I might like to have." (That was tongue-in-cheek for my sarcasm-challenged readers, and yes, you are out there.)

When he went to New York, he ordered a vacuum cleaner online and had it delivered while he was gone. Which was great, actually, since I had given our old one to the dorm boys, and this one is a Dyson. The only possible problem there is he doesn't want us to have any carpet in our new house. None. I've begged to no avail. I guess it works on hard floors too, though. It was very rare for him to spend that much for a "my wife made me feel guilty" gift, so don't worry, Mom, we have not been corrupted by American Materialism. More often he brings me books. Once, it was about undeciphered ancient languages. Very interesting, I might add. I'll probably use that for a future Thursday Thirteen post too. When he went to California the first time, he had a chance to go sea kayaking with a co-worker there. Because it was January, they had to wear wet suits. The kind that look like surfer suits, with short sleeves and shorts. Strange. He bought me one, too. Why? Beats me. It's true that I get cold swimming in 100 degree temps, but wearing that wet-suit once I'm out of the water is just short of torture. It really does help at the lake, I have to admit.

I have to end my little expose with this years Valentine's Day gifts. I got an ice crusher (pictured above)and a book on HTML. Talk about romance! Just kidding. Actually I loved them both. I've been wanting to learn HTML so I could do my own "tweaking" and I'm an ice-aholic. I've used my little manual ice crusher at least once a day, and could never go back.

There, now, as if you cared, you know a little bit more about the strange relationship that is our marriage. And included here below, for the Grandmas and relatives who really only read this blog to see cute pictures of my kids, (Admit it, you know it's true) I've included pictures of my little nerds, err, safe children. Look Grandma, I'm sacrificing my children's dignity for their safety. Daddy and I even have helmets, although on our last bike ride he "couldn't find" his helmet, so I looked like a total geek all by myself. Trust me. No one in this town wears bike helmets, and we're making ourselves huge "We-didn't-have-helmets-in-our-day-and-our-kids-turned-out-just-fine" targets. But that's a whole other post.

Thursday Thirteen - #17

13 cheap* ways to entertain your toddlers when you live in a small town.

1. Wal-mart - Hey, there's a toy aisle, a fish aisle, some music kiosks, what more could you ask for. This one isn't technically in our town. We have to go about 15 miles to get to any store besides the cafe (see below) and the hardware store.

2. Park - Needs no explanation. In our town we have the "Little Park" (kindergarten playground) the "Medium Park" (the actual town "park") and the "Big Park" (elementary playground). We can only use two of those after 3:00pm and during the summer, for obvious reasons.

3. Grandpa's Farm - Not only are there tractors, cats and dogs, but Grandpa also built a big sandbox with its own kitty proof cover.

4. Shoe Store - Trying cute expensive shoes that you'll (probably) never buy and watching the snooty store owner glance at your kids' Wal-Mart stickers and runny noses; entertainment just doesn't get any better than that.

5. Bookmobile/Library - Our town's too small for a library, so the bookmobile comes every two weeks. They have story-time for the preschoolers and then the kids get new books. It's sort of like our unofficial mommy's meeting place, where we are either embarrassed by our own children, or casting glances of aspersion at the other mommies whose children are throwing tantrums, depending on which day it is. Sometimes we also go to the actual library in a neighboring town.

6. Cafe - The little cafe here in town is really a bit of a joke. I don't think any one owner has stayed for more than a year or two in a very long time. It was almost purchased by someone who would've made a real go of it, but some family crises made them have to turn right around and sell it. We go there for lunch sometimes. If you go there between 10:00am and 11:00am they will refuse to serve anything but drinks or leftover breakfast pastries. They only work when they feel like it.

7. Wal-greens/Drugstore - There's nothing that makes a mommy worry about her children like cruising the aisles of all the medicine they might conceivably need in the next 90 years. There's also a toy aisle and lots of random As Seen On Tv junk.

8. Atwoods/Farm Supply Store - Occasionally there are baby chicks and ducklings and such. Also many tractors and other farm-y things to look at. Mommy gets to pretend she knows how to do things like canning and growing vegetables by staring at those aisles and pretending she knows what's going on.

9. Walking - Yup, sometimes we just walk. To the creek (which is a disgusting brownish-green mess, so we just throw rocks and pine cones in) or to the mailbox or to our new house, which we will be living in, in a couple of months.

10. Visiting other desperate mothers - There are a few of these. We like to go to my Hispanic friend's house, and Mommy practices her Spanish while helping teach Concha English. She's a sweetheart, and comes here a lot, too.

11. Visiting Granny - My husband's maternal grandmother doesn't get out much, so we try to go there when we can. The kids beg for cookies and dig through toys, some of which, I promise you, have been in that cabinet for about 100 years. I'm not kidding.

12. Going to the school - Okay, so not everyone can do this. We go to the high-school for which I am the boy's dorm mommy, because my own mommy is a teacher there. We go visit her at 3:00 and look at all the classroom. Maps and fishes are favorites.

13. Playing in the blobbly - This is also something that we can do as dorm parents. The dorm lobby (or, as Mim says, blobbly) is basically just a big room with couches in it, so the kids keep their trikes and other little vehicles out there. It's great for rainy days.

*Cheap if you have self-control and don't buy extra things. (Unlike myself, basically)

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Bawk, bawk, bawk

Well, it looks like all plans for the week are probably off. The weather here will probably be lousy tonight, so our Jr. High party is canceled. Actually, so many different things have happened to cancel this one party that I begin to wonder if there is some Divine intervention afoot. Of our six jr. high sponsors, one is on a business trip out of state, one has walking pnemonia, and the other might possibly have a toddler or two with the chicken pox.

The first in that list is my husband, and the last in the list is myself. Both of my kids have had the Varicella Vaccine, so if they do have chicken pox, it should be a very mild case. I don't know. Mim just got these spots today, so I'll have to keep an eye on them and see if they develop that pussy/blister thing.

This means that Friday's plans for the banquet are off, too. (See previous post) But I think the school was having second thoughts about letting us carry out the date anyway, because they don't want to set a precedent of faculty/staff members bringing their children. I understand their point, and really don't mind, although it does make me a little sad. I think I've talked Eddie into asking one of the girls from the Girl's Dorm to go with him, instead. I remember going to the banquet with a bunch of girls and no date in sight my junior year, and I know it would make someone happy, even though they know it's just for a friendly meal.

Only three more nights and two days before Daddy will be home. I think we'll make it. We've had a couple of exciting trips to Wal-mart to tide us over, complete with a new video and some Color-Wonder paints. It's got to say something about my mental and cultural state when a trip to Wal-mart is an excuse to get the kids all dressed up. Life's a Party!

Mim has her first date coming up this Friday. Eddie, who already has a girlfriend in the city, asked her to go to the Student Council Banquet with him. She doesn't really seem to be too nervous, and is even letting her mother pick out her dress. How many times does that happen? I'm going to have to treasure this moment. In fact, our biggest concern for the evening is that she won't want to go in with Eddie, but will prefer to stay back and hold Mommy's hand instead. Too bad I can't make that last another 16 years.

Eddie had his mom make a little corsage for Mim and I, and a boutonniere for Zaya to match his own. He's even been asking her which tie she likes. Of course Mim is enjoying all the extra attention.

This is a lot of effort for what amounts to a joke. I guess we'll see how it goes. Zaya and I will go together too, so we'll all sit at the same table. I'd rather not actually stay long enough to eat, but Eddie want us to stay for the meal, so we'll see how it goes. This is his high-school boy logic. "Hey, it's a free meal!"

I don't think Mim's going to be up to attending the after-party back at the school. Her bedtime is a nice, respectable 8:30. That's another thing I'm guessing won't last until high school.

Bloggy Headers

If you're interested in having a new header for your blog, then head over the Revka's new site, RS Designs. She'll be running a Grand Opening special for a couple of weeks, so now's the time. Revka is the lady who made my blog header. Check out her site and let her know what you think.

A slight change...

I've changed the image that will show up on my profile and when I make comments. I just couldn't stand the other one any more. This one shows my best side, I think. You might have to scroll down to see it. I'm looking a little blue and I'm wearing my best maroon dressing gown.

Sparky

I've mentioned previously that some of our dorm boys tend to exaggerate. The result of all the hyperbole is that my first response is usually, "Uh-huh. That's nice." Instead of, "Oh my goodness!"

So, when the boys came in from football practice last fall and said, "Eddie got struck by lightning!" I wasn't inclined to believe them. I figured that what they meant was, they saw some lightning very close to them, and maybe Eddie felt his hair rise on his neck. The actual truth was somewhere in the middle. You could tell just by looking at Eddie that he wasn't feeling quite right. My husband was home, for which I was very grateful, and he took Eddie to the ER as soon as we got the full story out of our semi-coherent teenagers.

The coach had already let the boys out of practice because of the storm coming. Eddie was getting into his pick-up truck, but when he touched the handle there was a big *crack* and he just fell to the ground and couldn't get back up. We decided that the lightning must've struck nearby, and then grounded through Eddie when he touched the truck. He couldn't move for a while, and the boys had carried him back to the Athletic Complex to the coaches. They, like typical men, stared at him for a while, asked him if he wanted to go to the hospital, and then sent him home when he said he didn't think he'd need medical care.

I called his parents as soon as my husband and Eddie and another player left for the ER (The nearest hospital is in a neighboring town.)and they were worried sick, of course, as any parent would be. His mom is an RN, so she was on the phone to the hospital directing them about what tests she wanted him to have, and asking them to read the charts that were coming out of the machines. After a lot of testing the doctors said he would be fine, just very sore. His enzymes showed that he'd had a "cardiac event" but that everything had gone back to normal already.

Eddie was sore for a few days, especially in his chest, but doesn't appear to have suffered anything else from the experience. Oh, except he's pretty jumpy during lightning storms and we all call him "Sparky" on occasion.

Thursday Thirteen #16

The following are, in no particular order, 13 of my favorite historical figures from the Bible. I have not included Jesus in the list, although, of course, He's my favorite. That's just going to go without saying...although, I think I just said it. Some of these are people who I wish I could be like, and others are people I relate to for one reason or another.


1. Moses - Here's a man who had to wait a really long time to find out what God had planned for his life, and even when God flat-out told him what to do, he still hedged and wanted someone else to do it, instead. He had an incredible love for his people, though, and I like how he wanted the best for them, no matter how annoying they were.
2. Deborah - One of the only woman in the Old Testament who had a specific leadership role. She told Barak that since he was too afraid to go to battle without her, a woman would get the glory of killing Sisera. (That was Jael, next)
3. Jael- This is the woman who killed Sisera. In case you don't know the story, Sisera was the enemy leader in a big battle, and he ran away from the battle to the tent of this woman who he thought would be sympathetic to him. She lulled him to sleep with a glass of warm milk, then drove a tent stake through his temple while he slept.
4. Gideon - He thought of himself as weak and pitiful, but God called him a Mighty Warrior, and then made him go prove it by saving his people.
5. David - A man after God's own heart. David in his prime (physical and spiritual) would've been one amazingly strong and feasome warrior, but also an extremely talented and inspired musician; every woman's dream (which caused him a problem or two later)
6. Daniel - A full life of service in the midst of incredible odds. He was a real leader, and a real hero.
7. Esther - A unique woman in the history of Judaism. She was the queen of Xerxes, and used her position to save her people from a holocaust.
8. Mrs. Noah - Can you imagine sticking with your man for over one hundred years while he builds the huge boat? And then, living on that boat with all those animals?
9. Rebekah - She was willing to leave her family, possibly for the rest of her life, to become the wife of a man (Isaac) whom she had never seen. She could be pretty sneaky, too, when the need arose.
10. Ruth - She, like me, learned that when you see a great man, you do what you have to to catch him.
11. Abigail - She, not like me, had a husband who was a total idiot, but she found ways to get around his mistakes, and after he died she was one of King David's wives.
12. Eunice-and
13. Lois - We know nothing about these women except that they served God faithfully and passed on their knowledge to Timothy, who helped spread the gospel of Christ. No woman can ask more.

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Dorm Craziness

This is the kind of thing that happens here, if not daily, then weekly.

I go out to the dorm lobby when I hear the squeals of young teenage girls and the hearty guffaws of my dorm boys to find one of the young ladies from the girls dorm having her ankles duct taped together. She was very obviously not struggling. Just "protesting" by squealing like a two-year-old. My boys just looked up at me, like they always do, and I told the girl, "You know, there are much more efficient ways to shave." Then I came back inside. This is what I've learned from 3 years of dorm parenting. They'll figure it out.

Later, when the squeals moved outside, and involved another female voice, I intervened, because two of the girls had been duct-taped together, but the silly one from the previous experience had jumped around so much the tape had got caught in her hapless victims hair, which is very thick and frizzy. I had to go out with my scissors and do a little snipping to get the tape out. I told my boys that was probably enough, and then watched the girls just eat up all the attention from the boys as I clipped through their shackles. The reactions of the victims actually annoyed me more than the misbehavior of my bullies, which is why I'm so glad I'm the boy's dorm mommy and not the girl's.

Teenagers. I didn't understand them when I was one, and I certainly don't now. I sure hope they get someone here next year who has a clue. But hey, our little vandals wrote in glass chalk on the window yesterday, this is what it said. "Boy's Dorm" and "We Love [my husband] and [me]. They spelled it wrong, but they felt confident enough to write it. According to my mother, this means we've failed, because if teenagers think of you as their friend, then they probably aren't being disciplined properly. I wish the next family here luck. It's hard to find a balance.

This picture is of Zaya after our resident golf "pro" autographed his tummy in ball-point. For the next couple days he would lift up his shirt and say, "Look, Mommy, it says Eddie!"

They're All Fine

This is a little bloggy praise to God to start my Sunday morning right. My mom, sister and cousin were all in a minor wreck yesterday evening, but all of them are fine and will be in church this morning. The policeman who worked the wreck told my mother that it wasn't her fault in any way, and she had done exactly the right thing. This doesn't really surprise me, and it does at the same time.

It does not surprise me because my mother is the epitome of the defensive driver. She is always watching the road and other vehicles (and any vehicle being driven by one of her family members in front of her) and sits up straight with her hands at 10 and 2 at all times. She doesn't like to even go the speed limit, let alone over it.

The only reason I'm a bit surprised at the good outcome of Mom's first wreck is that she usually puts her hands over her ears and cringes when she begins to sense unsafe driving in her loving family members. Glad to see you kept you hands on the wheel, Mom!

And thank you, God, for protecting my family. I would be one sad, little soul without them.

That's Better

JAM over at Least Significant Bits, tweaked Mim's photo for me. He takes great pictures and does some wondeful retouching jobs on old photos and slides that he has scanned into his computer. I'm always impressed with his work, and this is no exception. I like this picture a lot better now. I may even be able to do something crazy with it, like printing it out and giving it to Grandmas. I've put it here on a pretty high resolution, so I'm sorry if it took a long time to load.

Thanks JAM!

I realized while reading a couple of other people's posts (JAM and QTpies) over the last few days that I've never actually explained what the dorm situation is here. We work for a small Christian high school, which shall remain unamed for obvious reasons. Most of the students just live in the area, but a few come from too far away, so they stay in the dorm during the week. The dorm used to accept 7-day students. I was one for a while when my family moved out of the area for a few years, but I didn't want to leave my school. (I'm glad I didn't. I met my husband here.) Now my dorm boys are only here Monday through Friday. Usually. Sometimes a ballgame or banquet interferes.

Our first year here we had 8 boys at the beginning of the year, and it was rough. Very rough. I was also the new mother of a five month old boy. The next year was better, but still difficult because I had my second baby a week after school started. My husband and I decided we were through and bought a house to move into as soon as school was out. The school still really needed us, though, so we decided to stay one more year. (We needed time to work on our house, anyway.) This year we only have four boys, and they're all great. Yeah, they have issues sometimes, but as a whole they're great guys. I think if the other years had been like this one, we wouldn't have been in such a hurry to leave. Oh well. The front part of our house is almost livable, so we'll be moving out of the dorm in a couple of months.

I have a feeling I'm going to lose a bit of my readership when that happens, because several people have mentioned that they read this blog because of the dorm family/ real family dichotomy. It does make for some strange situations, that's for sure.

To that end, I'll be posting a bit more about dorm life soon. The picture is of two of our boys, Eddie* and George*, that built a fort for the kids during one of the January snow storms.

*Names changed

What Do You Think?

While following some long-forgotten blog trail, I happened upon a really nice lady who was offering to make 25 free headers to the first 25 people who asked her for them. I jumped in at something like number 14, and was very happy to have this opportunity.

I'll let her tell you her name and all that personal information. Check out her website and get a lovely new header for yourself. (The free ones are all taken. Sorry.)

Thursday Thirteen #15

Sorry, once again I waited until the last minute to do my Thursday Thirteen. One of these days I'll do some great post with lots of effort involved and subjects you really care about. This is, sadly, not one of those times.

Thirteen Things I wish I knew how to do.

1. Sew - All those cute fabrics in the Wal-mart craft department. Don't all good mommies know how to make lovely dresses and outfits for their children? Around here they sure do. I had to have my mother-in-law and my aunt help me hem a plain bedsheet to make a curtain. pa-the-tic!
2. Cook and Bake - I also wish I really enjoyed cooking, besides just needing to know how to do it. I love eating other people's cooking, but I just don't really get a big thrill from cooking. Part of that is because I'm not very good at it. For my families sake, I hope I figure it out someday.
3. Knit - Think of all the uncomfortable little outfits my children missed out on as infants! And even now, it would be so cool to be able to make them little sweaters.
4. Clean - Yeah, don't get me started. I know, I'm sitting here blogging when I could be cleaning right now. Ugh.
5. Prioritize - As mentioned above, I would rather do things like blogging and reading a good book than cleaning or cooking.
6. Take Pictures - In the last post I bemoaned this lack in my life. I'm going to keep trying, since my kids will keep doing cute stuff, so maybe I'll get better at this. I've always been pretty terrible though. Ask my mom.
7. Match - I have little or no sense of style. Never have. Again, ask my mom. I still dress like a preschooler who is just learning to pick out an outfit. When I lived in the dorm in high school, I had to ask all the freshmen if I matched, even when I was a senior.
8. Write - I don't mean string words together. I mean actual handwriting. My handwriting looks like a spaced-out junior high boy's writing.
9. Math - My husband is an engineer-math whiz. Lets just say I really hope my kids get his math genes and not mine. I finally made an A in a math class, College Algebra, only because he was coaching my through every single homework assignment and I spent hours every week in the Math Learning Resource Center.
10. Play the Piano - I had lessons as a kid, but I still sound like a third grader when I play. Come to think of it, I still write like a third grader too. Maybe they're connected. Nope. That won't work. My brother still writes like a first-grader, but his playing is beautiful.
11. Decorate - See number 7. This applies to my home as well as my person. Our home is still decorated in what I call "Early-Garage-Sale-Modern".
12. Woodworking - I love looking at those "Make Your Own Furninture" books and imagining that I can make them for my house. Sadly, the sound and feel of sandpaper on wood is enough to flip me over the edge. I'm not kidding. It feels like my teeth are going to fall out.
13. Complain - Oh wait, it looks like I've got this one down already.

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Photos..sort of

I am not a photographer. Let me just repeat that, in case anyone still has any doubts. I am not a photographer. Easter Sunday morning, my children are dressed up in their cute little too cold Easter outfits, and I own a digital camera...yet somehow, I don't have a single decent picture of them. They're either squinting at the sun, playing with the cat, trying to say cheese (which always makes them look goofy) or turning in the opposite direction. Here are the best of a pathetic lot. Why didn't I take more? Why, why? I have a digital camera expressly for the purpose of taking lots of pictures, because I know I am a terrible photographer. Ugh.


Well, anyway, as you can tell, I decided to have the kids wear their springy little clothes, despite the artic blast that hit us about that time. They even were outside for a while (Daddy's idea, not mine) and were upset when they had to come back inside. Notice the kitty feeding. That's one of their favorite activities. That cat is going to be huge.

And...One More Time!

Just when I thought cold season was over...just when I had stopped stocking up on Kleenex...it struck. My son, daughter, and self all need tissue today. Zaya was up all..night...long. Ugh. He's coughing and sneezing and everything. But, no asthma yet, which is very rare for him. I'm hoping against hope that the tonsillectomy got rid of his "every-time-he-has-a-virus" asthma. That would be wonderful.

So, back to my speed training; you all know how that goes, hear the sneeze, and run through that mental equation of which Kleenex box is closest to both you and the sneeze. Which trajectory will result in the least amount of drippage. Yeah, it's gross, but that's life here in virusville.

A Pretty, Little Easter Stress

Easter Sunday morning. Instead of focusing on the risen savior, I am finding myself worrying about how I should dress my children. It's 34 degrees outside, and cloudy, and this is what I bought for them to wear for Easter. Ok, so I bought them at Wal-Mart and Family Dollar, but still. I've been saving them. Yeah, yeah, I know what's more important. I'm working on it.

Care-A-Lot?

I've mentioned before, here and here, that my son is obsessed with sheep. He still is. It's not unusual to see him wondering around the house with a plush lamb of any size saying, "I'm a good shepherd. I take good care of my sheep." However, his needs to love and protect are not limited to sheep. Anything which looks cute or helpless is in dan...I mean, luck. Lately he's fixated on Care Bears. No, I am not OK with that, thanks for asking.
We walked into Arby's the other day with my only son and heir carrying a purple Care Bear with a flower on it's belly. Which made me question myself, of course. Am I making a mistake here? This led me, then, to make an actual mistake. I mentioned to him, just casually, that Care Bears are kind of "girly" and maybe he could find something else to beg for at Wal-Mart, like Thomas the Train Engine, or Tonka Trucks, or footballs. Pretty much anything else but Care Bears. The following discussion ensued a few days later.

"Mommy, I want to go to Wal-Mart and buy a Care Bear. I want a girly one." (Because, yes, some are girlier than others, and we'd discussed that too. The one he wants is pastel tie-dye with hearts on the belly. Absolutely as girly as it gets.)

"Well, Ummm, are you sure, because Care Bears are really kind of for girls, you know, and you're a boy. A big boy"

"No, I'm a girl. I want a Care Bear."(Which causes Mommy to furiously back-pedal)

"Well, Zaya, you don't have to be a girl to play with Care Bears, you know. Boys can play with them too. They are, in essence, girly, that's true, but I suppose you can be a big boy and still play with Care Bears." (Please!)

"Ok. I want the girly one."

I told him, "We'll see", and then he forgot about it because he wanted to do something else. Thank goodness.

What a tightrope we walk as parents. Whew.

Oh, The Heartbreak!

I showed a distinct lack of foresight today. Upon noticing that "Puppy" had a powerful sour-milkish odor, I suggested that he take a bath, and thought, in a moment of ignorance, that she might like to watch. Since Puppy is plush, his bathtub was the washing machine, and his towel the dryer. This has not made for a happy little Mim. Her face as she watched the lid go down was truly heartbreaking. As was her face when she saw him wet from the washer, and her face when the dryer door closed.

Puppy is her "friend for all time." He and blankie keep her company in her crib, and follow her around the house to fulfill her lovey needs. From the moment the washer lid closed on puppy, there was tempest and torment in the Babystepping home. The living room is littered with attempts at pacification. Baby dolls, stuffed bears, blankets, drinks...none provided sufficient solace.

Finally Mommy achieved a moment of peace by giving in to Mim's requests for a bottle, which is usually only allowed at nap-time and bed-time. If there was ever a time for bending the rules, it would be in the midst of great sorrow, and anyway, I was the one who closed the lid. Oh the shame!

Update: Puppy and Mim have now been reunited. The picture is from this reunion.

Thursday Thirteen #14

13 reasons I prefer my contacts

1. I look like a total geek in my glasses. Every pair I've ever tried.
2. Peripheral vision. It's nice.
3. My kids can't bend my contacts. They bent my glasses within a week of their purchase.
4. No headaches and eye strain with my contacts
5. No smudges and scratches on my contacts. If they get bad, I toss them and put in a new pair
6. No one can tell how strong my prescription is when I'm wearing my contacts. They don't even know I'm near-sighted at all.
7. I can see around me without turning my head. (Goes with #2, but slightly different.)
8. My contacts don't fog up when I come inside from the cold or drink something hot.
9. My eyes look the size God made them when I'm wearing my contacts, instead of 50% smaller through my glasses lenses.
10. My toddlers can't reach up and grab my contacts off my face.
11. Contacts don't make indentations on my nose.
12. Did I mention my glasses make me look like a geek?
13. Even with this stupid infection in one eye, I would rather just wear one contact than find and wear those glasses.

Check here for more Thursday Thirteen.

Win a Presto

I'm entering this with the idea of giving it to Grandma C if, by some incredible chance, I won. She doesn't have a computer, so this would be wonderful for her. Check out what it is and does at Presto, and enter the contest youself at 5 Minutes for Moms.

ABC about me

JennaG tagged me for a meme, and since I ruthlessly snitched a picture from her site recently, I felt obligated to participate.

A is for age: 27
B is for beer of choice: Root beer--don't drink anything alcoholic.
C is for career right now: Mom, Dorm mom and Wife
D is for your dog's name: Don't have a dog!
E is for essential item you use everyday: My computer!
F is for favorite TV show at the moment: Jeopardy
G is for favorite game: (Online game) Puzzle Pirates (Board Game) Balderdash
H is for Home town: born in Pampa TX. I'm not posting where I live now. =P
I is for instruments you play: Drums and a tiny bit of clarinet and piano.
J is for favorite juice: Juice usually doesn't agree with my tummy.
K is for whose butt you'd like to kick: No one I would post on the internet.
L is for last place you ate: Right here at Home. I even cooked!
M is for marriage: Perfect (or as close as it gets.), and we celebrate 7 years this year
N is for your full name: Once again, I'm not posting that on the internet.
O is for overnight hospital stays: Twice for childbirth, and once when I was two and ate a bunch of aspirin.
P is for people you were with today:Well, it's still early. So far my family and my mother-in-law
Q is for quote: Oh, too many to count. I like the one at the top of my post, and I like the one Bramblerose has on her site.
R is for Biggest Regret: Mostly I regret "dominating class conversation" and annoying my classmates. Probably from K-college. Oops.
S is for status: Very happily married.
T is for time you woke up today: 6:45
U is for underwear you have on now: a little nosy, aren't we?
V is for vegetable you love: Green beans (With lots of butter and bacon)
W is for worst habit: Being on the computer when I should be cleaning.
X is for x-rays you've had: Dental, Hand, Stomach
Y is for yummy food you ate today: Waffles with Peanut Butter and Syrup
Z is for the zodiac sign: I don't know, and I don't care.

Lets see. Who could I tag who would still love me? Umm...the above-mentioned Bramblerose, I think.

Phantom Green Thumbs

Every spring I feel the uncontrollable urge to try to grow things. I load up my sticky-fingered toddlers and wander around the aisles of greenhouses, and even through the gardening section at Wal-mart. I buy silly little gardening gloves, small spades, potting soil, pots and seeds, plants or bulbs. Considering my history, this is all ridiculously naive. It must be spring that's to blame.

I think God placed the desire to grow things in our genetic makeup as human beings, and this desire blooms right along with the rest of nature, in the spring. We just seem to know that the soil is for bringing forth new life, and we want to watch and be a part of that miracle. Unfortunately, the desire to grow things is as far as it got when God knit me together in my mother's womb. He, for mischievous reasons of His own, no doubt, decided not to give me the ability to make anything grow.

Last spring, for instance, I bought several herb seedlings and some cute pots and a nice little purple pair of gardening gloves. What else should I need? However, in no time at all they were withered, pathetic ghosts of the flourishing plants they had promised to be. One year my husband bought me a Christmas cactus that had lots and lots of buds, almost ready to open. The poor, sweet, naive man thought that I couldn't really mess up a plant that was only moments away from blooming and didn't need much water. Nope. Wrong. Try again next year, Babe. Not a single bloom opened. Not one. Every last bud fell off of its branch and burrowed down into the soil to try a new life as compost. I thought as a woman I was supposed to intuitively know how to make things grow. Nurturing and nourishing are supposed to be in my blood. What happened?

Even with this sordid and painful history, I stubbornly, stupidly, try to grow plants every spring. Today I bought some Hosta bulbs for the backyard of my new home, and some Hyacinth plants for my front porch. I know, I know, it can only end in tragedy and blame, but hey, it's spring. I can't stop myself.

If you've got a post of your own about growing (or your lack thereof) check out scribbit's April Write-Away Competition.