F-Dash-Dash-Dash

Yesterday, as we were going about our business, my daughter, in the course of describing to me how angry she was at something random that had happened, dropped the f-bomb. You know, the "queen mother of all bad words". Yes, that word. Unlike when my first child first said such a thing in front of me, I simply told her to watch her language, and we went on with our day.

This is not how things were when I was growing up. My mother always told me that if I didn't start cussing, there would never be a day when I had to try to stop. My father, who knew how much my mother hated cussing, tried his level best not to cuss in front of us, but he merely ended up sounding like Daffy Duck. ("Racka-Sacka-Frackin-Nacker!") It became something of a game to us, betting on how long he could go without saying an actual cuss word, and was an endless source of amusement to us as children. Even my mother can be driven to an occasional "crap" when she is really angry.

I managed to go without cussing as a habit until I was in my late teens, when driving became a daily necessity, and my inner road rage emerged. Now, having lived in Chicagoland all of my adult life I, like all other suburbanites, drive under the illusion that my driving is better than all of those around me, and every other driver is a complete and total moron who deserves to have every cuss word in the book tossed at them in multiples, along with the occasional finger.

But I try not to have any illusions about my parenting skills, and I recognize that even if I and their father never uttered a single cross word, our children would almost certainly begin to use those words as they venture out into the world.

I attempt to keep an open mind, and to teach them that there are better choices of words to express themselves, and there are situations in which a cuss word might be appropriate, and other situations in which one certainly should not use such words.

For the most part I think I've succeeded. My children can have an entire conversation without using a cross word, and they know not to say certain things in, say, church. So I think they'll be alright.

At least she didn't blame it on Shwartz. (nod to the movie, "A Christmas Story" )

Random-I-Zations

1. How the heck does my dog sleep with half of his body hanging over the edge of the chair?

I would fall off and wake up with a concussion.

2.My daughter is obviously smarter than I am, and has the potential to go much farther. I really hope she does well.

3. I love how sometimes, my husband and I have the same thought, and say the same thing at the same time.

4. Wouldn't you think that the odds would be, that I would eventually win like, a dollar or something on the lottery? Sheesh. Come on.

5. I have always tried to be frugal, and use our money wisely. For instance, our neighbors have a van with a window that won't go up, and during the rain they keep a trash bag on the window. But they have something like 25 pumpkins on their porch. Until they rot. So, they spent somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty bucks on pumpkins. At least. And their window still doesn't go up.

6. Why didn't they ever make a sequel to E.T. ?

7. Why did they make another "Footloose" ? Good Grief.

8. I think shoulder pads for women should always be in style. They totally draw attention away from our, um, lower regions.

9. Really? Haven't won the lottery yet? *sigh*

10. I've decided to take ads for my blog. Please comment if you want to contribute to my lifestyle. Thanks. Really.

The Garden and Other Household Stuff

Well, I spent a couple of hard-but-pleasant hours in the garden, both yesterday and today. Weeds were out of control and we badly needed to plant a couple fall crops. I'm not sure we got those in the ground in time, but I guess we'll see.

Yesterday I weeded the tomatoes and around the watermelon, and I was surprised and pleased to discover a baby watermelon hidden underneath the weeds near the fence. It's a good thing I didn't just grab what I thought was an unproductive vine out of the ground willy-nilly! I also pruned the living (or should I say non-living?) daylights out of the tomatoes. There was a lot of dead vine-age on them, and I hope they keep producing for a while yet.

Today Mr. GraceandPeace and I weeded the rest of the garden together, and got rid of the past their prime broccoli plants, hoed up the ground a little, and put in more broccoli and lettuce. There is something very satisfying about working together in the garden with my hubby. It's like we're hands-on planning for the future, or something I can't quite put my hands on. I just know that it feels very domestic to do something like that together, and I really love it.

It's like when he asks my help on something around the house he's working on, and I know what to do, or even just the right vocabulary to use. Today I asked him if he needed a schematic for something he was working on, and I giggled a little to myself at my use of the word "schematic". Not that I'm dumb or anything, but electrical work is just not my thing. I don't know enough about it to mess with it, so I wisely avoid it. My fixing ability regarding electrical things is pretty much limited to changing a fuse. Anything else calls for a shout out at my wise husband, who is the local Guru of All Things Needing Fixing.

That's all for today, I'm off to defrost dinner!

Again

Disclaimer: Don't read this if you don't want to cry. Because I cried when I wrote it. And I'm sorry if this upsets anyone, or if you all think I'm a complete wimp and have something wrong with me. If that's the case, I'm sorry, but too bad.

It's been two months today. You know that scene in the movie Ghost, when Demi Moore's character say's to Patrick Swayze's ghost:, "It's like I can still feel you!" Well, in a very much less creepy way, that's kind of how I feel about Stitch. The day I said goodbye to him, at the vets, I buried my head in his fur, and the thing I remember thinking, was that I would never get to feel his soft fur again. I've cried in that fur before. And he always just let me.

So this whole summer has been full of firsts. The first time I peeled a potato and didn't have him to feed the peel to, the first time I cleaned out the refrigerator and didn't turn to find him waiting for the leftover meat. First car ride with the other dogs, and Buddy Lee in the front seat instead of Stitch. First bonfire we didn't get to laugh at him running from the fire, joking that he was the smart dog because he knew fire could hurt him. First thunderstorm I got to sleep through, instead of petting him to let him know it would all be ok.

I really can't understand how God could give me such a wonderful gift as that dog. Don't misunderstand me: I love our other dogs. But Stitch. Well, he was a gift. I just melted when I saw him the first time. And he ran right to us, like he knew he was ours.

So the question remains, why would God give us such a wonderful gift and then take it away so soon? We wonder, and we cry at odd moments, and we try to go on as normal. But the truth is, we've been changed. Changed, I hope, for the better.

Before Stitch, I didn't really want a dog, but I gave in. Now, I can't go to a shelter because I want them all. All the dogs, all the cats, even the flippin racoons and squirrels. Stitch changed us, for the better. Like all gifts of God that are accepted by man unconditionally, he gave us something we didn't bargain for. Love, yes. Companianship, yes. But a new perspective? A new thought, that maybe his spirit was straight from the Lord of all Creation? That maybe Stitch was not really ours, but loaned to us from God himself? And that we were lucky to be able to know such awesome love while we yet live, able to recognize it, and be directed by it, and apply it to our lives. Stitch loved everyone. He was climbed on by the daycare kids, petted by complete strangers who thought he was beautiful. But the beautiful part was really his spirit. And we who loved him knew where that spirit came from.

If you own a dog, and love a dog, then you know where that love and that spirit comes from. And that gives me hope, that God could give us all such a wonderful gift here on earth.

See you soon. 2004-2011.

A Moment

Did you ever have a moment of revelation? You know, one of those sudden still-life moments that just happens randomly, but gives you some insight?

Happened to me this morning. All of the daycare kids were behaving at once-playing, napping, reading. So I took the time to read an article in a magazine I'd gotten in today's mail. It was about a woman who had 6 children under 5 years old, who wanted desperately to find the time to do things at church, to find some ministry she could participate in. And then she had a revelation, that her kids were her ministry, and it changed her life, and made her happier.

That's when a little voice inside my head whispered, "Remember?" And suddenly I had a flash of memory, back from when we lived in a little 2 bedroom walk-up attic apartment. Me, telling my husband I had to go to the store, handing him the baby, and literally running to the car. Just so I could get a moment to myself. Flash-forward a couple years. He's suggesting to me that I should get my daycare license, "because I'm so good at being a mom." It wasn't the first time he'd suggested it. I didn't listen then, but I did later. Later, when my own children were a little older, and I had the distance to realize that you do actually live through a few years of sleepless nights, puking children, and no money to spend on yourself.

Now, my daycare is part of my ministry. Like raising my own children still is. I get to teach, not just the children, but their parents. Share a little of the tiny bit of wisdom I've gained over the years. When to call the doctor, when to worry. When not to worry, how to get through the rough times. How to feed a family of two for a week on very little money. We share our abundance with our daycare families. Not just physical things, like food, but the abundance of our learning.

Like our children, sometimes they listen, sometimes they don't. Sometimes they have to learn for themselves, the hard way. Not every day is easy. Some days I need a drink to relax as soon as the last child leaves. Other days I spend my evenings catching up on all the things I couldn't get done during the day. But it's always a rewarding job to have, when I can remember to look for the silver lining. But here I still am, doing the same things I've been doing for the last 23 plus years. It's my ministry, and it's good to be reminded of that.

Random-I-Zations

1. Banquet frozen dinners have saved me from skipping lunch on busy daycare days many, many times. But there's nothing like taking what would be five dollars worth of food anywhere else, and making it available for 89 cents, to make me wonder what kind of meat is really in the chicken fried beef steak.

2.Had a scheduled inspection today. Like usual, I stressed over it and cleaned all morning, and like usual, she didn't even glance at the kitchen. Just reviewed records and watched me serve lunch. Passed with flying colors, though, so that's good.

3. Babies are weird. Yesterday she screamed all morning, and today she slept from 6:30 till 11:00. I wonder if they know somehow when you really need a break?

4. Speaking of breaks, it was humid and hot for the whole last week, but today is really nice. I actually turned off the air conditioner and opened windows today!

5. I'd really like to win the lotto. I wonder if it would change my life in any meaningful way, though. I mean, big house, a maid, a pretty sports car, help the family out, and all of that, but would the freezer still have frozen pizza and Banquet dinners in it, just a whole lot more?

That's all I got for today, see ya!

Just Another Monday

Last evening, around 8:00 p.m., I got my usual Sunday-night-gotta-get-ready-for-work-on-Monday, bad temper fit all riled up. I had to clean the kitchen, vacuum, get the daycare stuff out and ready for my first, 5 a.m. arrival the next day.

As I was slamming doors, banging pots and pans, and throwing things, my husband asked me what was wrong. I answered the usual way: "Nothing!" He knew better, of course, and managed to ferret out my real reason:"I'm tired of never having a day off!"

That's how I put it, but the truth is a little different. I work long days, most are 12 to 13 hours. At home, so I never get away from work. And then I go right into housewife mode and start cooking and cleaning, in addition to all the stuff I manage to squeeze in during the day. And sometimes it feels like I never have a moment to call my own, and by the time I'm done raising children, I'll be too old to have any fun at all. And lets not even talk about where the money goes: all towards bills, no time out, nada.

But as I write this on my laptop (my darling husband and wonderful children surprised me with it last year for my birthday), I'm listening to my Ipod (ditto, only this years birthday), and the washing machine and dishwasher are doing a good portion of my work for me, and the daycare kids are, miraculously, all napping at once, even the baby.

So I know I have things really pretty easy. I only go barefoot when the redneck in me can't stand shoes another minute, I have (way more than) enough food to keep me alive and happy, and a good deal of it is caffeinated and chocolate covered.

I'm not sure why I have such a hard time focusing on the good things on Sunday nights, but I do know these things for sure: I'm very blessed, and I am absolutely surrounded by love on all sides. I really am grateful to be able to do all that I do, and I really do all of this because I want to. I am so blessed to have a family who loves me, my favorite electronic toys, pets who are glad to see me wake up in the morning, a job, and yes, all of those bills.

I'm reminded of a bible verse, about your cup running over. It seems appropriate that when mine does overflow with good things, that there are a few things in there that keep me grounded, that keep me from forgetting from whom all of those good things come. So, thanks to God, from whom all blessings flow, and to my very patient husband, who knows when to ignore a fit.

(P.S. Listening to my favs playlist can go a long way to improving my mood too-during naps, it's like a mini vacation. How can you not smile when you're listening to the Cranberries and Joe Walsh?)