Grace and Peace

F-Dash-Dash-Dash

2011-11-07T06:29:00.000-08:00

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

2011-10-22T18:51:00.000-07:00

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

2011-08-28T13:03:00.000-07:00

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

2011-08-01T16:28:00.000-07:00

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

2011-07-27T09:57:00.000-07:00

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

2011-07-13T10:01:00.000-07:00

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

2011-07-11T11:21:00.000-07:00

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?)

Stitch

2011-06-02T09:57:00.000-07:00

We got Stitch 7 1/2 years ago, in the fall. His head was so big that when he wagged his tail his butt would come off the ground. He grew into a dog so beautiful that people would stop us on the street and comment on how beautiful he looked. He also grew into one of our best friends.

He had very high ideals on how a dog should behave himself, and we joked about how proud he was. He was always up for a kiss on the face in the morning, just after our showers. Nothing made him happier than chasing away the UPS man with a single bark.

Last night at 5:57 pm we were in the back yard and I noticed he was drooling profusely. He made a noise like he was going to throw up but couldn't.I called Bill to tell him to hurry home because I thought there was something wrong with Stitch.

Then Stitch walked up to me, and I saw he was breathing very heavily. He laid his head on my lap and waited calmly while I petted him, then he rubbed his head against my leg and walked inside the house. Only a moment later I heard Marissa scream for me, and I ran inside. He was panting heavily and his tongue was blue. I had already left a message for the vet to call me, but I left the room to get the phone book to try another vet. Before I could finish the call, Marissa screamed again. I went downstairs to find her on the floor, Stitch in her lap, wagging his tail feebly.

I called his name, and he moved his head a little. My phone rang. Bill calling me back, but as soon as I answered I got another call: the vet. I hung up on Bill and answered the vet, screaming a little incoherently. He said to meet us at his office. I called Bill back and he said to listen for a heartbeat, and do mouth to mouth. Marissa did mouth to mouth on Stitch all the way to the vet's office, sometimes with me pumping his chest over the back of the seat in a sort of attempt at CPR. I made the twenty minute drive in 12 minutes. Bill was there just as we got there, and carried Stitch inside.

I knew in my heart it was already too late, but we had to try. We were only there a minute before the vet came back out. He said Stitch had a twisted stomach, which I guess is common in large dogs. From that first panicked phone call to Bill, to the time the vet shook his head was 30 minutes exactly, so at least he didn't suffer. And he had time to say goodbye to the family members who were here. He got to spend the morning on the porch, waiting to bark at the mailman like always. He got a belly rub, and got to say good morning to Bill and I by kissing our face and smearing our glasses. And got to take a clandestine nap on the couch. It was a good last day.

Stitch was definitely a member of our family and his absence will be deeply felt, not just by us and our extended family, but by my daycare kids, who loved him as well. I know that the conventional Christian wisdom is that dogs don't have souls, and that they just stop being when they die, but I have never really been able to believe that. God doesn't do anything without a purpose, and I cannot believe He would create something capable of so much love, and capable of inspiring so much love, only to have it suddenly just stop existing. Maybe dogs are like angels, servants of God, who do his bidding and then get to spend eternity in His presence. I think so. And I know that Stitch was certainly like an angel to us. So, I guess I'll think of him from now on as being in God's presence, and not having to compete for a spot on the sofa anymore.

Stitch 2003-2011

Love ya pal.

Locking Them In The Basement

2011-04-22T19:14:00.000-07:00

I'm reading the letter from the college, deciding if I can scrape up the money for the summer class, between her sophomore and junior year. She'll get to see a cadaver, talk to a surgeon, get college credit. And if she passes, get a small scholarship to help with her time at that college.

I blink, and I'm back in our walk-up apartment, showing her how to use the Mac, laughing with our friends about how true the 'rule of threes' is.( The third curriculum you try is the one that works.) I'm discussing homeschooling curriculums with friends , taking group tours to apple orchards, trying to teach her right from wrong.

And then I'm back in the here and now, and she's saying "Mom? Did you hear me? Can I go to my boyfriends' house for a couple hours?" I want to scream ," Of course not!! You're only a child!!!" But she's not. She's a beautiful, almost-grown woman, with morals, a drivers' license, a boyfriend, a life of her own.

I'm proud of her. We're proud of her. Of both of our children. But I really, really, really, want to lock them in the basement. For like, ever. Because, even though a life means I've done my job as a parent the right way, I want to fail. Because failing means they stay with me.

So I'm torn. But not really.

I smile, and say,"Of course, you can go to your boyfriends house. You know the curfew, see you then." And I know I will. Because she's just that responsible. So I kiss her goodbye, and fill out the class form and re-do the budget to make room for the summer class. I hope she's as successful as she plans on being. Because that means I did something right, and that she'll be happy.

Good luck, kiddoes. I love you both.

A Visit to my Parents

2011-03-23T17:49:00.000-07:00

The call came on an evening when I'd had a really rough day at work. Ask any day care provider, they'll tell you that a full moon means rowdy toddlers. So I was ready for an evening off, a drink before dinner, a night of meaningless television. But it all got skewed a little when my cell rang, and it was my sister. My mother had been taken to the hospital. Details aren't important, but it's the same story all people eventually participate in. Pain, incapacity in various ways, hospitalization, rehabilitation, a nursing home. Call after call, day after day, and the childish fear builds inside me.
Then another call, this time regarding my dad. Stroke, a pacemaker. Other things. So a visit is scheduled. A visit, oddly enough, that I will make myself, by myself, as an adult who is capable of doing such things. My husband has to work, but the kids will go with me. Because I can do this by myself. Right?
We check into a hotel. A first. We've always stayed with my parents. Then we go to the hospital to see my dad. Oddly, he looks good. He's surprised to see us, even more surprised we came to see him first, before we see my mother. Pleased, even, to learn this.
I'm glad to learn he's doing good. Pacemaker is working good, stroke was minor, no dementia. He's still my dad, just older.
Then the visit to my mom. At the nursing home/rehabilitation center. She's surprised to see us. A CNA comes to put her in a wheelchair so we can go visit her in the big room. We leave the room, to give her some privacy. When she sees us again, she's surprised to see us. Again. We talk some more. She asks us how old my kids are, many times. More questions. The same ones, many times. I'm pleased to see she remembers my kids, their names, what they're into right now.
We're there late at night, we get to tuck her in. I have an insane desire to stay all night, even though my kids are sleepy, falling asleep in their chairs. I want to watch over her, the way I did my children when they were small.
Back at home, I watch the shows I've DVR'ed. I cry. But I'm smart enough to know it's not the shows I'm watching that I'm crying at .But I greet the dogs, clean a little, do some laundry. Be a wife/mom, basically. Hope that I can forge an adult relationship with my sister and brother. Spend a lot of time being grateful for my wonderful, caring, loving, husband.
Full circle. Life is like that. I hate it. I'm glad I get to help, even a little.
Mostly, I am sooo glad that my parents were there for me. I will always love them, even though they aren't the same now as they were when I was little. I hope I inspire the same love and devotion in my own children, but I don't think so. I can't imagine being as great a parent as mine were. I can't imagine my husband loving me for the next thirty years. I'm a horrible person, I'm a failure at all I do. How can I measure up to my parents? I know I've failed, and I pray that God takes up the slack and turns it into something wonderful for their sakes. But I know that they've inspired me to try. Both my own parents, and the ones I got when I got married. How lucky can a person get? I got two wonderful parents when I was born, and now I've got a wonderful mother-in-law and step-father-in-law, to inspire me. And my husbands dad, even though he's passed away, has also given me instruction in how to be a parent.
God bless parents everywhere.

Of Monty Python, State Inspectors, and Calls for the Dog

2011-02-25T12:09:00.000-08:00

At 8:30 this morning, I looked out the window to see a man in a suit and tie, carrying a briefcase, approaching my front door. Not dressed formal enough for a religious man, or cheaply enough for the IRS, I immediately knew he was an Inspector. And not just the regular, every day local inspector either. He was from The State Board of Education!!!!
I've always known they had the right to drop in whenever they want and demand to see my records and observe, but it's still a little intimidating to see the guy pull out An Official Form and start writing while he watches me.
My philosophy on these things, as always, is: I'm not doing anything wrong, so I won't worry about it. And when he was done, he told me I'm doing a fantastic job. So that ended nicely.
After he left, I fed the kiddoes lunch, cleaned them up and put them down for a nap. And then the phone rang.
When I answered, a man's voice said," Valerie? Is Stitch home?" Uh...Stitch is the dog. I had to fight the raging desire to say, " Yep, but he's got no thumbs. No thumbs, can't hold the phone. " Instead, I wisely said,"Huh?" The man then said,"This is Stan, from Animal Control."
Ok, now I'm really out of control, as I battle back the urge to yell,"Cheese It, Stitch, it's the coppers! They must know about that poodle! Ruuuuuuunnnnn!" I even giggle out loud a little at the thought, like the crazy lady I am.
Stan says,"Uh, maam? We picked up a Malamute in the area of your house, and we just wondered if Stitch was actually there with you."
Struggling to regain a little control, I stiffle another giggle, and answer as if I'm not completely out of brain cells,"Oh! Yes, he's right here with me! But Thank You for checking! That is sooo nice!" Stan from animal control says goodbye, and I take a little time to ponder my (apparently) odd sense of humor, and wonder if maybe I should move to England, where I am positively certain that they will get my sense of humor, since I got it watching Monty Python movies. But I know I could never bow to the queen without, say, falling on my face slapstick style and then making a raspberry noise with my thumb wiggling in front of my nose, so I abandon the idea, and go to fold a load of laundry.
Really, so far, a most interesting day.

2011-02-17T18:17:00.000-08:00

Spring is coming! I can see the forgotten things on the patio, thawing out with the snow. A forgotten flip-flop, a crushed can, a box escaped from the recycling bin.
A squirrel runs down the back fence, grabs a bite from a forgotten corn stalk. But he's still fat and fluffy.
I find a clump of Malamute hair on the kitchen floor, all by itself. A lone box elder bug crawls up the window.
The grill sits on the only spot of dry pavement in the yard, having been shoveled around all winter.
I itch to clean the backyard out. The garden with the ferns needs clearing, I know the tree in the front yard needs the pavers moved and a few hostas planted around it.
When I reach out the door for the mail, I see the buds on the Russian Sage plants and smile. They've been buried all winter, but now I can see them. I raise the blinds in the living room, turn off the heat during the day.
I'm a winter person, really. Give me a sweater and a hot chocolate any day. But as I sip my morning hot tea, I find myself dreaming of long lazy warm days, grilling on the patio, seeking the shade, staying up until the sun goes down, and planning my garden.
I pet my Malamute, shake the loose fur off my fingers, and dream of a getaway to a beach with my husband. Then I turn up the heat, pull on a sweater, and cook a hot dinner. Spring is coming. I know it is.

Soon...

2011-02-13T16:10:00.000-08:00

I check the weather channel. Above 32 degrees Fahrenheit, in the Midwest that's good enough. I head for the store, to grab the usual things I forgot the day before. On the way home, with a crazy smile on my face, I pull into the local car wash, and ask for "the works". Later, with the van still dripping, I pull into the local fast food joint, for a quick shake for the current sick child.
Once home, I switch over the laundry, grab a couple steaks from the freezer to defrost, pour a cold drink for myself, and scrub a few potatoes. As I season the steaks, and wait for the grill to warm up, I look out the back window.
The spots where we've shoveled have started to melt. Mostly around the grill and the back steps, there are clear spots, where you can see nothing but concrete. DRY concrete!
Back inside, I notice a few clumps of dog hair; our Malamute is beginning to blow his coat, a sure sign that spring is coming, and that I'm in for three solid months of daily vacuuming.
The steaks are done, the potatoes are done. I look out the window, to make sure I've turned off the grill, and spot a little green where the silver miller plants in my planters are trying to come alive.
"Soon..." I think, "soon..."

2010: the awards

2010-12-30T21:09:00.000-08:00

I would like to give out a few awards for the year 2010, just because they deserve it:
I'm calling these the "Slap up side the Head " awards.
1.In the " Pursuing an ideal to it's end, regardless of the consequences" category: The US Government, for finally designing a bill that is completely counterfeit-proof. The problem with this, of course, is that not even the US Mint can replicate these bills, which is sort of a problem!
2. In the "Talking the Talk, but Hiding Under My Party's Coattails" category, Barack Obama, for knowing all the right things to say, but not having a clue how to walk the walk.
3. In the " Way to Come out Fighting, and then Retire into Oblivion " category, all of the people who don't vote in any election except a presidential election. Pu-leeze, people, just vote already.
4. In the " Way to talk the talk but not walk the walk " category, everyone who complains about our country's sucky economy, but drives a foreign car. (Get real, already. Where do you think the economy comes from?)
5. In the "B%@*# all you can but don't do anything" category, everyone who voted Republican, but believes in : Gay rights, a woman's right to choose, a person's right to exist without interference from the government, a person's right to pay taxes and therefore have rights in the
government, anyone who believes they have the right to chose how and who to worship.
I could give out many more awards. But I won't , because most people don't have even a modicum of common sense. I am proudly a person who is a Christian, a wife, a mother, a conservative, a liberal. None of these things are exclusive if you have a even a bit of common sense. I love my God, my husband, my children, my right to chose, my right to vote, my right to demonstrate, my right to whatever I want to do that doesn't hurt you. But most people don't understand this, they think they have to indentify with a certain party or candidate. I have mostly voted Democrat, but I can tell you right now, I'd vote Green party or Communist or Independant or Write-In. I proudly voted for Obama, but if I had 30 minutes alone with him, I would certainly take the time to set him straight about his priority's. I love my country, and to paraphrase Ben Franklin, " Patriotism is loyalty to your country always, and your government when they deserve it."
I refuse to be indentified by my loyalty to a party, or a sex, or a belief. I will stand for what I believe in, and "teach the children quietly, for someday sons and daughters, will arise up and fight where we stood still".

10 Things From Inside My Head

2010-12-25T19:07:00.001-08:00

1. Aragorn? Seriously? SHAVE! I mean really, he has that sharp sword, it kills orcs, just flippin shave already.
2. I wanna rescue all the puppies everywhere. If I weren't married, I'd be the crazy cat lady, sans cats, with goggies .
3. I. cannot. drive. in . the. snow. ( It's the south in me. Sorry, can't help it. )
4. I have totally embraced the primitive look. Mostly because of the types of places I have lived. If I were rich, I would probably be minimalist, except in my closets.
5. My ideal house is the Frank Lloyd Wright house, in the Chicago 'burbs.
6. I wanna buy a pretty red truck, with four wheel drive, and cool paint job.
7. My Ideal day involves a manicure, a pizza, a Cosmopolitan, a DVD of Home Alone, a Snickers Bar, a Kindle, and my wonderful husband, all at the mall.
8. Ask me about the Hobbit, or The Lord of the Rings. Anything, Really. (Ok, maybe I'm a nerd. It's ok, I don't mind. I like it here. )
9. I'll try to cook anything you name. Might not be good, but I'll enjoy the challenge. and the food.
10. Speaking of food, I haven't met one I don't like. E.V.E.R.

My Kindle and My Books

2010-11-20T19:18:00.000-08:00

Last year for Christmas I received a Kindle from my dear husband, who knows how much I love books. It has been one of my dearest friends all year long, allowing me access to inexpensive versions of all of the books I currently wish to read, and I would heartily recommend it to anyone who likes to read, and wishes to purchase books on the spur of the moment.
But how, you may wonder, does it compare to reading an actual paper and print book? I won't confine this to an actual review of the kindle, because anyone with even a limited imagination can imagine what it would be like to hold a plastic device and click a button instead of turning a page. What I will say is the biggest difference is the actual purchasing of the book.
Indulge me, just a moment, will you? Imagine a 9 year old girl, already in love with books, taken to "the big library" by her parents. It was rumored to be haunted by the lady who first lived in the old house, turned into a library, and she could be seen on the third floor occasionally. But the children's books, the ones I was interested in, were in the basement. That's right, the basement. As in , creepy, dark stairway, and old oak desk with scary lady at the helm. But past all of that, past creepy librarian and dark stairway, were the books. Rooms and rooms of them, picture books, first readers, first chapter books, Nancy Drew, A Wrinkle in Time, The Chronicles of Narnia, Madeline, The Mixed Up Files of Mrs Basil E Frankweiler, all of them. And they smelled like books. Like books should smell, I mean. And that scary lady at the desk? Well. She had the nerve to make me wash my hands before I handled them. I hated that then, but now I totally understand.She knew, you see, that not all of those books would be reprinted again, and that we had to take care of the copies we had.
Fast Forward. 32 years later. All of those books are at my fingertips again. They don't smell like books should smell, and I don't have to get past the scary librarian lady at the big desk to get to them. But they are mine. I never have to return them. I never have to explain to the librarian why I'm checking out Agatha Christie, A bible commentary, Nancy Drew, and The Mixed Up Files of Mrs Basil E Frankweiler, all at the same time. I can read them anywhere. In a hospital waiting room, during naptime, in the middle of a football game. No one asks why I'm reading a children's book, or a theology dissertation, or an Amish fluffy cozy mystery. It's my world, you see. I get to control what goes on there, what goes into my mind. Mind candy, love stories, biblical commentary, british mystery stories, stuff I read as a kid. It's all mine!
And, as a bonus, in my mind, I can always remember that first visit to the big library, the hope of seeing a ghost, the smells, and even the scary librarian lady at the big desk. It's mine, all mine. All at the touch of a button.

Being "Broke"

2010-11-05T10:46:00.000-07:00

Well, it happened again this morning. Notice from another client that she was taking her child to a daycare center, instead of here. Aside from the fact that I don't understand why anyone would want their infant in a room with a 20 kids to 1 adult ratio, there's the whole ,"Great, now I'm going to be really broke until I get more clients" issue.
Not, mind you, that I've ever been really poor. Quite the opposite, really. I've never really known hunger. Even after my first child was born, and I was so poor that the telephone got turned off, and I got evicted from my apartment for non-payment of rent, I always was able to eat. Not really well, and certainly not the way a doctor would tell you to, but I ate none-the-less. I've never had to sleep in my car because I had no where else to go. I've never worn shoes with holes in them or clothes that were too small.
God has always taken care of me, and I expect he always will. We have family who are willing to help out when needed, and there are so many opportunities in this great country of ours for people who need help.
So, I guess we'll cut out the soda and DQ runs for awhile, and Christmas gifts may be a little sparse this year, but you know what? By the biblical definition, I'm still rich. And if I have to work nights and weekends at a fast food joint to be able to pay all the bills on time, I'll just pray for strength to be able to do that, and thank the good Lord that He's given me all He has.
In the long run, none of this matters anyway. "For I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able, to keep that which I have committed unto Him against that day." 2 Timothy 1:12

Never Too Old To Learn

2010-10-18T15:51:00.000-07:00

This weekend, I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to learn a few things.
I spent the weekend with some dear friends, watched the Chilean miners get freed, cooked a lot, and lost a couple clients. All of which, combined with some other things, have taught me that:
1. Not everything has to be perfect. A little dust should be a part of every home-like house.
2. The little things are the most important. Kiss your kids every day(even if it makes them cringe), pet the dogs, skip the gourmet meal and nuke a pot pie, go shopping and spend a little money on nothing, laugh at nothing till you cry, grill whatever is in the freezer and add a bagged salad, hug a friend's grandbaby.
3. Dance nekked in the surf!!
4. Cook even if you don't have time, if that's what makes you happy. (If it's not what makes you happy, eat Cap'n Crunch and don't worry about what other people think!)
5. Don't worry all the time about money. Sometimes ya gotta buy something totally unneeded and worry about the bill for the pink sweater later. (But not all the time!)
6. Love your dogs and treat them well, no matter what every one else thinks. Because God Made Them Too.
7. Have fun, and don't take everything so seriously. Because, really, if a 5 month old can be happy just blowing spit bubbles, why can't we?

If You Give a Mom a DustCloth

2010-08-19T12:13:00.000-07:00

If you give a mom a dustcloth, she's going to want to dust.
She'll start dusting. She'll dust the whole house.
While she's dusting she'll notice that it would make more sense to hang the coats on the coat hooks by the back door.
She'll grab the coats and move them. When she gets them there, she'll notice that the hooks are too low and need to be moved up. To move the hooks she'll need a drill. She'll get the drill that her wonderful husband gave her for her very own.
While she's getting the drill, she'll notice that the craft room needs to be cleaned, so she'll start cleaning. She'll put away all the projects that aren't done yet. When she opens the cabinet to put the projects away, she'll see the glass she left there last time she was crafting. It's her favorite glass, and it needs to be cleaned, so she'll take it upstairs to the dishwasher.
When she opens the dishwasher, she'll notice that she already ran it today, so she'll put away the clean dishes. When she opens the cabinet to put away the glasses, she'll notice that they don't all fit at once, and needs to be rearranged. So she'll start rearranging, and soon the contents of every cabinet in the kitchen is on the countertops.
When she sees the empty cabinets, she'll notice that they need to be washed down. So she'll go downstairs for a cleaning rag. When she gets downstairs she'll remember that she was going to clean the craft room.
So she'll go upstairs to get the vacuum. When she gets to the closet to get the vacuum, she'll remember that she was going to move the coats to the coat hooks by the back door, and that she needs the drill to do that. When she goes to get the drill, she'll see the dustcloth, and if she sees the dust cloth, she'll want to dust...
When her dear husband gets home, the house is a mess, he can't find anything, dinner isn't ready, and she's rearranged again!
(This post is for my children and husband, who wonder why the flying farts I feel the need to rearrange every thing every single day, with thanks and apologies to Laura Joffe Numeroff for my unabashed use of her style of writing in the "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" series. )
(Thankfully, I don't have my particular form of ADHD kick in every day, and most days aren't like this!)

I'll Be Seeing You in all The Old Familiar Places...

2010-08-15T15:34:00.000-07:00

We live in a small-ish town near Chicago. How small? I recently took my neighbor some tomatoes from my garden, watched as he took a bite, then casually asked me who I was. (OK, so we don't spend a lot of time with our neighbors. In my defense, I work 12 hour days on a regular basis. But you're missing the point!)
We used to live much closer to the 'big city', but moved here because of housing prices. The big deal for the entire first year was the fact that everyone we met knew we were new here. My children, born and raised in the 'big city', couldn't get used to the fact that everyone we passed said hello.
But eventually they, and we, did get used to it. So used to it, that recently when I gained a client for my home business, it was absolutely no surprise to us that the client had a sister who worked for the doctor who treated my daughter for her broken ankle, and that she learned of us through another client who temped for said doctor when said sister took a maternity leave. (And if you don't understand that, just imagine what my daily life is like! ) And that my daughter's boyfriend saw the children who come to daycare here when he was in the emergency room recently, and introduced himself with the usual two degrees of seperation that exists here in our small town.
I am most definately not a small town girl. Give me a mall and a highway anyday. But, here? I don't know why, but I love it. Maybe it's my age. I'm not 20 anymore. ( 29, um kay?) And the thought of anonymity isn't so attractive anymore. But I still love the thought of sort of knowing my neighbors, and having room for a garden and a patio, and maybe saying hey to the cashier at the only grocery in town.
But it is still seriously cool to live close enough to 'The City' to go shopping when I want, while being able to take garden produce to a neighbor.

Signs I Might Be Getting Older

2010-08-10T15:24:00.000-07:00

1. I saw a woman at the store, about my age, pull into the first spot, which was a handicapped spot. I was jealous.(Don't worry, I'm still very grateful for my health. It's just that I worked all day before I went to the store, and it was hot, and well...whatever.)
2. I carry pictures of my dogs in my wallet. Whenever my friends pull out pictures of their grandkids, I pull out the pictures of my dogs. They are sooo cauuute!
3. I have friends my age with grandkids.
4. I wear short sleeves year round, and sometimes they're too hot!
5. My idea of the perfect Friday night is delivered pizza, half a glass of wine, and a ten hour nap.
6. My idea of a wild Friday night is two glasses of wine and a twelve hour nap.
7. I like pot pies. When did that happen?!
8. I have no patience whatsoever with people who disagree with my political viewpoint. I won't try to win you over, I don't care to discuss it, I just know I'm right.
9. I'm beginning to wonder what, exactly, I can afford to hire out. Dishes? Cooking? Grocery shopping? Breathing?
10. I don't really care what anyone thinks about what I think or do. Don't like it? Too bad. I do.
Of course, all of this could just be in my mind, because it's August, and it's h.o.t., and it's so close to fall I can almost smell it, and it would really really really be nice if I could turn off the air conditioner for one flipping day and open a window, for goodness sake, because I might as well not even have a back yard it's so redonkulously hot outside. But I guess we'll see in a few weeks!

Me, one. Lingerie gods, zero.

2010-08-06T10:43:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been awhile since I posted. Sorry about that, but life-you know. It took me three tries to remember my password so I could make a new post. Would've been one, but apparantly I typed it in wrong the first time.
So anyhow, I went bra shopping last night. A manufacturer whose bras I like has a new product out, and they were on sale, so off to the lingerie department off the local department store I went. I was fully prepared, from pre-sale advertising, to buy one of these sight unseen. Being the wise consumer that I am, I refrained from that particular folly until I could drag one of those bad girls to the dressing room and see how it worked in real life.
Now, the draw of this particular bra is that it is supposed to adjust to your size when you put it on, hence forgoing the need for the normal sizing, and just going with small to extra large. Yeah. Not. So. Much. Can you say, " Good Idea, Poor Execution!" ?
Of the four types of self-adjusting bras I tried on, only one offered any support what-so-ever. The other three were just sort of glorified elastic bandages. Which is fine if you're nineteen, or have never breast fed a child, or can afford plastic surgery. None of those apply to me, however.
But I kept looking and eventually found a product I did like. After that humiliation in the dressing room, I almost left right away, but passed through the clothing department on my way to the door. Hello. Is that a 70 percent off sign I see? Trying on clothing after trying on lingerie is like escaping Freddy Krueger to throw yourself into the arms of Jason, but it just so happened that the first pair of jeans I looked at was on clearance for ten dollars. Ten bucks!! For name brand jeans!!
Of course I had to try on a pair, and apparently God felt sorry for me or something, because I bought a pair that's a size smaller than what I normally wear, and they look awesome on me! Some days every thing goes right, but most not. That one worked out ok.
And the sun went down on that day with me sitting in the back yard, in my newly built black-walnut-tree-sitting-nook, with my darling husband, and my dear daughter, sipping cold soda, and watching the bats catch bugs overhead. It was sort of peaceful, and a great end to the day.

House, Chapter 3?

2010-06-15T10:56:00.000-07:00

In which I am defeated by three layers of wallpaper,
Or, abandon Hope, all ye who enter here...
So this morning, while dear Hubby was at work, I started ripping lovely 80's hunter green and mauve striped wallpaper off the kitchen walls. It came off easily, like it really wanted to be torn down. Except that underneath it were two more layers of wallpaper. Wallpaper that did. not. want. to. come. down. Ever.
I have hated that wallpaper since the day I took my first glance at it. Which would have been fine, except that it was attached to the house I wanted. Bought the house, made plans to re-do the kitchen. (Hubby, for some reason, would have preferred a newer house, with no electrical- leveling- foundation- plumbing-leaky windows-wallpaper- yards of wood to refinish issues. Go figure. ) So while my fantastic husband was at work,( did I mention how wonderful my Husband is? ) I started in on the kitchen. Only, like, it won. Because under the three layers of wallpaper is a lovely shade of green. We're talking Martha Stewart in the early 90's, neon, aqua green, here.
Not that I plan to leave it that color. It's just that I have to live with it while I scrape the rest of the wallpaper off of those walls. Did I mention that I hate green as a house decorating color? Or that the floors in my kitchen are a lovely shade of hunter green? Um, yeah. I hate green.
So my kitchen is temporarily that lovely shade of green, while I destroy the rest of that wallpaper. Destroy, because it's all coming off in tiny little bits. But I promise, I plan to simply annihilate that wall paper, and remove all vestiges of green from that kitchen. *shaking fist in the air* "I will win!!!"

The Real World

2010-05-27T15:11:00.000-07:00

When I was young(er?), I pretended to be lots of different things: A career woman in an office, the perfect mother, a missionary, and many other things as well. One of the things all those pretend careers had in common, was that I never knew want or need. Even when I pretended to be a misssionary, God always provided.
When I got older, and got a boyfriend I actually considered marrying, I never thought of where the money would come from. I just knew it came every week in the form of a paycheck.
It never occurred to me, that even though I was willing and able to work, I might not be able to make ends meet.
After I got married, it was a couple of years before the real world intruded upon my life. It was after my first child was born, that things got a little dicey financially. At one point we had our phone turned off. But I was always able to eat, and have a place to live.
Now that I'm older, and run my own business, I see others who are struggling every day to make ends meet.
One in particular, is a single mom of one, who got pregnant at 19. She went on to nursing school, became an LPN. After a few months of working as an LPN, she realized she would never be able to make ends meet on that salary, and she applied to a school with a reputation for turning out fantastic RN's. She got a scholarship, and financial aid for housing, etc. Her first year went well, and she's back for the summer.
Here is where the real world intrudes: her financial aid, transferred to the county her college is in, is not good back in her home county. Even though she qualifies, it would take 4 to 6 weeks to transfer the financial aid back here, and then another 4 to 6 weeks to transfer it back to the county her school is at. Um, that's the whole summer. So, what is she supposed to do for daycare?
As for me, I'm faced with two options: tell her to make other arrangements for daycare, or reduce my prices for daycare so low that they don't cover expenses. I already know what I'm going to do, of course. Been in that situation myself.
But it really rubs me the wrong way to see someone who is honestly trying to make it, being screwed by the system of the wonderful government of Illinois.
I suppose that there's nothing anyone can do to fix the messed up club of money-hungry, greedy, do-nothings we here call a state government, but I'm sure gonna try next November.

Look! A New Post!

2010-04-09T17:57:00.001-07:00

OK, so it's been awhile since I wrote a post here. But really, I've got some fantastic reasons. Like, my children shook up a Mountain _ew an_ it explo_e_ on the keyboar_. (In case you haven't figure_ it out, the "comes after c in the alphabet" key, no longer works. So, any time you see a _ , assume it's a "comes after c". ) An_, I've been working like a crazy person. I can have 8 full time enrolle_ chil_ren, an_ that's what I've got. Plus a part-timer or two. Plus my girl, with a broken ankle, an_ a house that's almost a 100 years ol_ , in constant nee_ of remo_eling, an_ what you've got is one very busy mama/wife/_aycare provi_er.
So, the blog has gone by the way for awhile. I still love writing, it's one of my first passions. I'll be back when I can. In the meantime, may I suggest a goo_ book?

Long Overdue

2010-01-12T16:31:00.000-08:00

This post, as you can probably figure out from the title, is long overdue. It's been on my mind for awhile now, but life, you know. It kind of gets in the way. The minutae.
See, this post, it's all about honoring God. There's a verse in the bible, in Luke , chapter 6, verse 38, " Give and shall be given unto you, good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give unto your bosom."
Well, I've recently (and forever back), seen the proof of this. You see, when we moved into this house, it had a huge, old, people-eating size deep freeze in the basement. We had our own, but for some reason we left the older one powered up and used it instead. For awhile it sat nearly empty, in spite of my usual stocking-up ways. But last year, when Mr. GraceandPeace was off work for awhile, I noticed something a little, well- odd. It started to fill up. Not due, mind you, to anything we were doing.
But odd things started to happen. Like one night Mr. GraceandPeace called me and told me not to buy any bread. So I didn't, but didn't know why. (He'd been given the extra's from a food bank.) When we met up, he had a trunk full of bread products. And I don't mean just white bread. I'm talking about wheat bread, croissants, doughnuts, danishes, muffins, cake, and on and on. And this is what he had left after he opened his trunk to everyone he works with and said," Take whatever you want!" So, the extra's went in the freezer. And then, the holiday meat parade started. Both my husband and my son get holiday hams. But it didn't stop there.
Oh, no. Mr. GraceandPeace brought home extra hams from co-workers who don't eat meat. And my simply darling mother-in-law, who is retired and volunteers her time, brought two extra food baskets to us, that she hadn't been able to deliver.
And I began to find some really unbelievable deals at the supermarket. And so the freezer began to fill up. But not just the big deep freeze. Also, the 'fridge-top freezer, and the pantry.
And when things got really, really rough, we got a check in the mail from a relative we never expected to get one from.
And so, I guess I just want to honor God with this post. To say thanks to all the people who've been open to being His instrument of good measure. Because things here, while always abundant, have lately been, "pressed down, shaken together, and running over!"

Four Days Off!

2009-11-30T10:48:00.000-08:00

Well, the first time off I've had since last April is over, and let me tell you, it was wooonnnderful.
I cooked like a maniac last week, until Thursday of course. Then I ate like a maniac! After which I did not cook again all weekend, unless you count Saturday night's chili, which I mostly don't count.
The weekend was full of blankets, internet surfing, crossword puzzles, leftovers, and pondering lots of nothing at all. (Do you think that Hidden Valley Ranch is attempting to take over the world by addicting us all to Ranch Dressing and then lowering the supply? Hmmm....)
It was a great weekend, but now it's over, and back to the daily brew. Before 11 a.m. this morning, I did five loads of laundry, endured two fits thrown by a four year old, and had three conversations with business people regarding money.
Love those Mondays, really.

Veteran's Day

2009-11-11T15:49:00.000-08:00

Just want to take a moment to remember the vets in my life:
My dad, who served in the Korean war.
My grandpa Bayer, who was drafted during WWII and didn't even make it through basic before the war ended.
My Brother in Law, Bob, who recently retired from a career in the army.
My grandfather-in-law, who doesn't always remember his family. He served in WWII, and if you ask him about it, he'll talk for hours about it. What he did, where he served, how he played basketball with "John F ". (That's JFK, to the rest of us.)
And to all the rest of the veterans out there: family, friends, acquaintances, and people I don't even know. The ones who will know I remembered them, and the ones who won't. The family of those who gave their lives so I can sit and watch TV in my living room and talk politics in public. Thanks. You'll never know how much you've done for us. God bless you all.

Waiting for the Butter!

2009-10-26T04:21:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, the days of life slide by like buttah, one after the other in a haze of easiness, all things going smoothly. Everyone gets along, no one is sick , all the bills are paid on time. To slightly mis-quote JRR Tolkien in The Hobbit, it's a strange thing, but times that are easy and days that are good don't make very good tales.
So the tale of our lives this year should read like a novel. A seven month layoff, an accident that injured my dear husband's back, my mom in the hospital for months, my sister's grandbaby in the hospital with cancer. And I , who am the Official Stresser Over of The Budget - well. Lets just say that that particular part of my job description has kept my very busy lately.
And my slight heart murmur, which can be triggered by stress and caffeine, is going like a freight train some days. Dear husband is getting impatient with being off of work. Our children, who get along with one another very well for brother and sister, find reasons to be in their rooms alot.
So I'm taking a step backward, thank you very much. I'm loving the autumn rain, detoxing from all the caffeine I've ingested lately, spending more time enjoying my family, and making time for my quiet time with God. I know all this is for a season, and then things will change.
I know that no matter what happens God will use it for good.
I also know that we are extremely blessed to have an extended family that cares about us enough to help when we need it.
So, I'll work on focusing on the good things I have in my life instead of the problems. But I'm still waiting for the Buttah days!

Grace and Peace

2009-08-27T17:38:00.000-07:00

I'm standing at the mudroom window, leaning on an old bench, absorbing the silence of an August rain. The deck is wet and slick, the Dusty Miller and Moss Rose Plants are laden with the two day rain. The mustard a previous owner planted is heavy and nodding with the bounty of wetness a late summer rain has provided, and the accidental tomato plant growing in the hostas is ripening quickly.
An unseasonal wet and cool two days is providing me with a taste of Autumn, a cool breeze a gift of God, and I'm just savoring standing here, watching, listening, smelling.
The deck lights come on south to north, one by one, and the gentle rain continues, feeding, nourishing, both the plants and my spirit. I wait gently for the silence of an autumn rainstorm, it's where I belong, it's where I live always in my soul. That spot where the bounty of summer is fully ripened and waiting to pick, and the restfullness of winter is far ahead.
August is when I started dating my husband, Autumn when I knew we would be together for a long time. It's when we were married, when our first child was born. When my thoughts turn to both wandering to new places, and staying at home for a season.
My knee leans on the bench, scarred by dog paws and children's toys, and I am overwhelmed with gratefulness, Knowing that this patch of land is mine for a time.
I wait for the streetlight to come on in the yard of the Narnia house,and listen to the rain, and watch squirrels scurry to get home, and listen to silence.

Summer Redux

2009-07-09T18:19:00.001-07:00

I think I may have mislead you a couple of posts ago. About summer, I mean.
Summer is sweaty, hot, uncomfortable weather. I prefer cold, really. But about the actual stuff we do. Well.
Summer? It's : Time to read whole books, from start to finish, without backing up to re-read a couple pages so you remember where you were last time, weeks ago, when you left off.
Summer is Strawberries and blueberries and raspberries and peaches. It's watermelon and cucumbers and lemonade and sweet tea. It's late mornings and late evenings and fireflies.
Oh, fireflies! How I love a yardful of fireflies, Blinking late into the evening.
Summer is bats flying high over head, baby squirrels getting fat, a long lazy walk by the river. It's hazy mornings with iced coffee to wake you, the smell of elephant ears and funnel cakes cooking, and the scent of a distant campfire.
Campfires! Browned marshmallows and melty gooey smores, roasted hot dogs on a stick.
Hot dogs and hamburgers and pork chops and chicken on the grill, every week. Salads and fruit.
The farmers market, barn sales, yard sales, aimless drives through the countryside.
Summer is baking in the sun, even if you wrinkle like a raisin. It's a cool dip in the pool or the lake or the river or the hose.
It's my dog diving headfirst into the river to retrieve a stick, sticking his head in the hose while it's going full blast and loving it, shaking and getting everyone around soaking wet.
Summer is sidewalk chalk drawings and first babysitting jobs and melting ice cream cones with the whole family.
Summer is the cool air in the movie theatre and the library, the shivery feeling when you first come into the house after a day outside.
Summer. It's not too bad. If only I could have it in the early fall...

A Story About a Company

2009-07-08T17:50:00.000-07:00

I have a little story to tell you. It's not a very nice story, unfortunately, but it is true. This is a Story about a company. A company most people think would be delightful to work for. Like most companies, this one has it's ups and downs.
The insurance, for instance, runs the gambit from unbelievably fantastic, to nonexistant, depending upon your postion within the company. The pay rate depends entirely upon your ability to attract new clients, and your boss can be a delightful person or a real jerk, it's just the luck of the draw.
Aside from the ups and downs, however, there lurks a darker side, a side that no one ever really sees. Unless, of course, you work for the Company.
The truth is that the Company is not very well run. My supervisor, directly hired by me and the board of directors, (I'm on the board of directors), has turned out to be a real moron. For instance, my supervisor was hired entirely on his own word of mouth-stupid, I know, but it's the way it has always been done. All of what he said has turned out to be a lie. In addition, since he is directly responsible for the budget our company operates on, you would think he would be a financial genius, but as it turns out he can't do the simplest addition or subtraction. The simplest things escape him, such as the fact that you can't spend more than you take in, or that you need to cut out the extras before you cut out the essentials. (If I spent all the money I earned on chocolate bars and pretty shoes, and then couldn't pay my bills, everyone would think I was a moron with no sense of financial responsibility, right? )
Since the supervisor of our company is so bad with money, most months I spend the time between submitting my pay voucher and actually receiving my pay, sweating it out, wondering if I'm actually going to get paid.
Now, before you wonder why I don't just quit and get another job, let me explain: This job isn't just a job to me. It's what I dreamed of doing when I was in high school, and I am educated, and continue to take education classes and seminars, to be able to do my job both effectively and in the most up to date manner. And besides, I love my job. I provide a real service, a service that affects my customers in the most positive way.
If I were to lose my job today (a real possibility because of the Company's current budget crises), I would need to : 1. Be retrained for another type of position. 2. Probably file bankruptcy so that I could afford to go to school. 3.Move to a cheaper community, possibly another state, to live in a way that would enable me to go to school. 4. Almost certainly go on welfare to enable me to be able to live , feed my children, etc, while I retrained for another type of position.
So you see, I'm invested in this job-totally aside from the fact that I love my job (and how many people can say that?!) the fact that my job would impact so many people if it were lost, should be a real consideration in the Company's budget plans.
And so, while I sit here and wonder if my paycheck will arrive this month, the executive board and the Supervisor duke it out with their war of words, while they fight over weather or not to cut 'nonessential' budget items out, and weather or not to continue to fund essential services such as the one I provide to our customers. While they fight, I wonder, as do others, weather or not we will be able to feed our children next month, or give them a place to live, or provide them with health insurance.
I wish, as do all who work for The Company, that the service I provide would just be funded, so our clients can continue their own work, and stay off of welfare themselves, and that the Company would quit playing games with the little people who work for them.
Oh, yes...the Company I work for is The State Of Illinois, and the job I do is to provide daycare for all of the Moms and Dads we decided a few years ago needed to be off of welfare, and work to support themselves. Moms whose husbands left them, or Dads whose wives disappeared. Moms who went to school and are professionals, or the parent who suddenly finds themselves alone when the other parent decides to leave. In other words, You, and Me. The Rank and File of daily life. Or, in the words of Sesame Street, the people who you meet, when you're walking down the street, the people who you meet each day.
I'm not a person who receives lucrative multi-million dollar contracts from the state. I'm a person that provides safety, food, and loving care and education, for the children of those parents who refuse to go on welfare-but soon may be forced to because of the current budget situation. I find it hard to believe that our government is willing to sacrifice the services that I, and many others like me, provide, just for the sake of political posturing, and making sure that their business partners are taken care of.
We're the people the current government wants to cut the essential services of, the ones who have worked hard to get where we are, who continue to work hard, who won't quit.
And the ones who will remember this when it comes time to vote again.
Remember this-no matter where I go or what I do, I will vote again!

Picture This

2009-06-30T18:45:00.000-07:00

OK, Picture this: It's three a.m.-ish. It's raining and thundering, a real honest-to-goodness midwest storm. I, personally, love a good rainstorm. I mean, really love a good storm. I sleep like a baby. Until, of course, the dog realizes that it's storming. Not just storming, but thundering.
And Everyone knows, any dog over 50 pounds hates a thunderstorm. And so, my 95-ish pound lap dog pushes open the bedroom door with his nose, nails clicking across the old wooden floors, and sits beside my bed and pants. And pants. After a few minutes of panting, he begins to whine. More like a cry , really. And when that doesn't work, he edges closer, and eventually gets up the nerve to stick his nose into my armpit, and rub it around and whine like a baby.
All creatures know a mom when they see one, I think. My dog, the Malamute, see-He's My dog. And he knows it. He knows I'm the one here who gives comfort, and leftovers, and the occasional early morning car ride. So he whines, and nuzzles, and eventually, like my kids when they were babies, he finally manages to wake me. And he's rewarded with the one thing that calms a 95-ish pound baby: a silent ear scratch.
He gets his scratch, and even though the storm doesn't subside immediately, he soon sinks to the floor, nails sliding across the ancient wood. I'm rewarded with a sigh, a sound I've come to realize means he's calmed down enough to not need to be babied anymore tonight. And then, after a little comfort from mom, he sleeps. All he needed was to know that someone was looking out for him. Someone in charge of the pack, in charge of the family.
Like a 70's cross-stitched sampler, I realize, an old mom doesn't die, she just gets new babies.

In General

2009-06-30T11:29:00.000-07:00

In General, I loathe summer. I am, for the most part, much like my Alaskan Malamute, who spends three months of the year laying right on top of the vents the air conditioning comes out of. If you try to make him move, he just lays there and stares at you. He doesn't even eat in the summer, or at least not much. If I could sleep through summer, I would. So I just get cranky and grill things so as not heat up the kitchen while making dinner.
I very much prefer Autumn, or even winter. I know, I'm crazy, but hey, I try to live with it.
So, it is with great adulation that I woke this morning to a day of only 70 degrees and possible rain. And my Mal is actually moving today. And since it's been so hot here that you can actually feel your skin burning in the sun, our dear Mal is blowing his coat for the third time this year. (They're not supposed to do that. When a Mal blows his coat, it's like it rains fur-great chunks of it, everywhere, and they walk around looking like someone combed them by sticking a moving fan blade in their fur and running it backwards up their backs. Not pretty-got it? )
Since I have to endure two more months of summer before I get real lasting relief from the heat, I thought I'd make a list of things about summer I do like, in hopes of psyching myself into liking summer...

1. Strawberries
2. Garage Sales
3. Long Days
4. Evenings on our back deck
5. Grilled whatever for dinner ( !No planning! Just throw a slab of something on the grill... )
6. Saturday road trips to antique/junk shops
7. No school for my dd (great girl, love having her home)
8. Home Improvement projects actually getting done (December in Northern IL = frozen paint)
9. Occasional walks through local state parks
10. Local small city-fairs

Of course, if I made a list of things I don't like about summer, it'd be a much longer list, involving Japanese beetles eating my entire backyard, bees, sweat, bees, heat...Well, you get the idea. But I'm ignoring all of that. Really. Trying to, anyway.

Random-i-zations

2009-05-22T20:04:00.000-07:00

A few completely random thoughts from my head today:
1. Why are none of the Chicago Blackhawks from Chicago? I mean, seriously-they couldn't find a single solitary Chicagoan willing to raise a stick slightly off of the ground and beat someone almost to unconciousness, merely to occupy their territory?! I've lived near Chicago for awhile now, and I can only assume that they weren't really trying very hard.( Go , Blackhawks!)
2. Why was I the only nerd in the theatre on opening night who cheered for the part body double/part CGI/part Arnold Terminator? It totally brought the whole series full circle for me. Or am I overthinking this? Nerds? Anyone?
3. And speaking of Terminator, I know at least two people who have quite a lot of metal in their bodies, and they neither one seem to be stronger than normal people. Must be the chip.
4. Why is it that the older I get, the more I like the shows on PBS?
5. How come when I discuss what's wrong with the government with my family, Wal-Mart always comes up?
6. As a former homeschooling parent, I know that schooling any child is difficult. So why do I feel the need to call my dd's teachers on an at-least-weekly-basis, and give them an earful?
7. How come the last three points are questions? (Ummm...four?)
8. Why do I feel the need to give all parents of children younger than mine incessant, constant, non-ceasing advice/orders?
9. And speaking of Wal-Mart, why does almost everyone I know shop there and buy crap made in China/Taiwan/Korea/ETC, then complain about the economy in AMERICA?!!! I mean, DUH!!! Take the time to read a label, people!!!!
10. My grandfather, who was born overseas, had become an american, fought for America in a war, gotten married, and obtained a job in an (AMERICAN!) factory by the time he'd been here five years. He never, ever once bought a car that wasn't American, and he would have been shocked if anyone who was an American that he knew had done so. When I was in high school, one of my teachers told me that it takes three generations to forget anything. I am the third generation. I have NOT forgotten.

Estate Sales

2009-04-21T17:18:00.001-07:00

This past weekend, with nothing to do and very little money to spend, dh and I decided to hit some garage/estate sales. We live in a very small area, and we normally don't even need a newspaper to find garage sales. But this particular day we couldn't even find one. Eventually we headed to one Estate Sale dh remembered seeing a sign for earlier in the week.
We followed the signs to the sale, parked, and walked up the road to the house, discussing the beautiful area the house was located in. And then as the house came into view our jaws dropped and we just sort of stopped and stared. It was huge. And we were there early.
The house was sort of a german-inspired chalet. A cool look, really.
Well, there were lots of goodies, in all of the rooms. Rooms, by the way, which were many and varied. We sort of got lost, a little.
In the end, we ended up with a few little treasures. DH got some Chicago Bears glasses, and some stuff from the tool room. I found an entire box of vintage linens with our last initial embroidered on them! A half - round mahogony table for our entry way completed the haul.
Lots of fun, and I like to think that the people who owned the house would be happy to know that someone is enjoying their taste, and their stuff is living on in a new home, well loved.

The House, Again!

2009-03-22T16:40:00.000-07:00

It's a semi-warm spring Sunday afternoon, and dh and I are sitting in the living room discussing our future plans for The House. Sounds like a harmless pastime, but the truth is that she's whispering to us while we talk. (The House, I mean-she does that, you know. She whispers. A lot.) We think we own her, but the truth is, she owns us.
Proof positive of this, is that after a few minutes of silence, dh wanders over to a spot on the wall, under the stairs, that has peeling wallpaper, and casually, without saying a word or discussing it, begins to peel off the ugly 80's small print wallpaper. It comes off in a sheet, not in bits and pieces like you see on home improvement shows, but in one huge gigantic sheet of ugly pre-pasted monstrosity. And while dh peels, and The House sheds, the original plaster from the plaster and lathe construction begins to show, we all hold our breath. And when he's gotten a whole sheet off, and we can see actual wall, we let out a breath together, us and The House, as if she can finally breathe again, without that wallpaper there.
Some wives might get mad at the spontenaity of it all, but I know this means the beginning of a project we've discussed numerous times, and that dh knows what I want, and that we are mostly in agreement about what needs to be done, We, and The House.
The House, you see, whispers to me all the time. She has the final say, I'm afraid. Whenever I'm in the bookstore and I find myself drawn to the home improvement section, or I'm channel surfing and find myself on HGTV or PBS, or whenever I'm on the internet without business to conduct, she whispers, and I usually find whatever it is she's trying to tell me.
So while dh and I peel sheet after sheet of ugly wallpaper, and we find the sad shadowy remnants of the original crown molding that some previous idiotic owner removed for no discernable reason, we discuss paint colors, and we listen to what The House is trying to tell us.
Because, like an aged beauty queen who still wears her tiara to the county fair every year to show off to her friends, we don't really care if she's past the bloom of her youth. That very fact is what makes her so special to us.

I am ALIVE!! Or, What I'm currently loving.

2009-02-04T18:38:00.000-08:00

So, I just realized that it's been something like 2 and a half months since my last post, and I realize that the title is a little melodramatic, but, hey, I'm a writer, right? So, I'm allowed. In the interval since my last post, we've had Christmas, and New year's, and a new (yeah!!!! FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) president was inaugurated. And that's why it's time for a new post!
Without further ado, here is what I'm currently obsessed with, or what I'm currently loving:
1. It should go without saying, that I'm seriously loving my dear husband. The man is too too terrific, and all other women should be jealous of me. Go ahead. Be jealous. I'll wait.
2. I'm also loving my dear children, who are pretty terrific in their own right. I could go into the reasons, but then I'd just be bragging, and you wouldn't want to listen.
3. Beyond the family is the more ephemeral stuff. So for number 3, I'm going to list my house, which I spend way too much time dreaming about how I'll remodel into the perfect craftsman style house, when I finally get the money.
4. I love all the blogs I'm finding lately, about remodeling houses. I've been on some of the most wonderful blogoshpere vacations lately, if you know what I mean. The net is like a total vacation, in which I can go anywhere I can think of, instantly, even during naptime for the daycare kids, which never, ever, lasts long enough.
5. I'm loving one specific one of my daycare kids. A child of a single mom, she totally reminds me of one of my own kids at that age. I spend a lot of time doling out advice to her mom, like," Just be patient and hang in there! Around five years old she'll suddenly get all of this!"
6. I love being a daycare provider, period. It's like being a mom, except I can go out at night if I want. (As a side benefit, my own kids are old enough to babysit for other, smaller kids, at night, and earn money if they want!)
7. I love being old enough to not feel I have to apologize for everything I say or feel or want. Deal with it!
8. I love being confident enough to feel like I don't have to be a super-worker, -mom, -anything else. If I want to spend my day crocheting and cooking beef stew, I can. I like it, and I don't care what any feminist wannabe thinks about it. It's my house, and I'll clean it, thank you, without waiting for someone else to do it the way I think they should.
9. I love old things. Old quilts, old dishes, my old house, my old china cabinet with my old family china- I love it all, it gives me such a sense of connection with the past, with people I knew and people I didn't. I love stopping at antique stores and finding old things, and wondering who loved them once, and who thought they were ready for the thrift store, and who will one day say something like, "MOM! You sold what?!?"
10. Last and first again, I'm loving family. My mother in law, who has turned out to be the world's best mil. I am sooo blessed, to have such a wonderful woman in my life, when everyone around me hates their mother in laws. I can't even imagine life without her, she's so great. My grandfather in law, who has always called me honey, and who now only remembers family sporadically because of a stroke, but who still has the world's most wonderful disposition anyway, and who has totally taken the place of my own long gone grandparents. My parents, who I miss every day and wish I were nearer to. My siblings, even the ones who taught me what crazy means. The pastor who baptized me.
May God bless them all, because I'm loving them and I'm grateful for them. I hope they know it.

Fall Cleanup

2008-11-16T12:04:00.000-08:00

The fence is finally installed! After much waiting around, for the grant money to arrive, for the fence people to arrive, for the weather to clear up so the fence people could arrive, the fence is finally, finally done! It looks great, just like I had pictured in my head.
The day after they were done, dh and I moved the steps on the back porch, from the front of the porch to the side of the porch-a necessary project, since with the fence installed, the steps where they were simply sort of dead-ended at the fence. I say we did it, but of course it was mostly dh's doing-I was there to hand him tools and screws, help hold up the heavy things, and call 911 if he were to make a large uh-oh, which of course he did not, being handily skilled in all things remodel-ly.
The weather has taken a definate winter-like turn this past week, and while we worked outside, it began to snow. Not the delicate crystalline flakes you dream of in August when it's 98 degrees in the shade, but hard, angry round chunks of snow, which stuck to Stitch's fur while he sat and sniffed the wind, and enjoyed the cold, grey day we were having. Now that the entire back yard is enclosed with a fence, he can play outside for hours if he chooses to do so. Our lab, Buddy, stayed out for a bit, but would occasionally make it clear to us, that he needed to go in NOW, and warm up.
After the steps were done, I raked leaves while dh mowed over them to make a sort of mulch for the lawn. Then we put away the patio table and chairs, moved bikes and outdoor toys under the porch for the winter, and basically cleaned up.
Today, being a Sunday, we're taking it a little easier: Watching football, making apple crisp and pot roast for dinner, and basically recharging for the week ahead. I can definately use some recharging!

We Got The Grant!

2008-10-01T15:45:00.000-07:00

I know I haven't posted about this before, but I am soooo psyched about it, I just have to share!
A few months ago, I received in the mail a form from the state about a grant that was available to day care providers, for "facility improvements". Now, this grant is open to family child care providers, day care centers, anyone at all who isn't run by the state itself.
My thought at the time was something along the lines of, "Well, since I've never even so much as broken even on a scratch off lottery ticket, the chances of my winning a grant are probably slim to none. But, what the hey, right? What do I have to lose?" So, I read the directions, and , using my best skills at writing, wrote what I thought was a fantastic grant narrative. I sent it, in triplicate, to the state, return receipt requested, and sort of forgot about it. I've always thought that not winning anything like that meant that God was trying to tell me to depend only on him. I've always figured, if God wants me to win the lotto, I only have to spend the dollar to buy one ticket, and He can make it work, right?
So, in the words of my fav ever pastor RR, I put feet on my prayers and sent the grant app in, then left it up to God.
When the deadline for award letters passed without a word from the state, I took it as a symbol of God's provision in His own way, in His own time, and left it at that. What I didn't take into account, however, was the fact that the budget in our state is truly screwed up, and currently in limbo. Also, there were a LOT of applications for the relatively small amount of money available for this grant.
The deadline for award letters passed, and almost three weeks later, I received a letter from the state. Now, understand, as a daycare provider, I receive a lot of letters from the state. I almost put this one directly into the garbage without opening it, as it bulk seemed to indicate an ad of some kind. But I opened it, seeing as how it was nap time and all.
And then! Well, then, I proceeded to call first, my dh, who was inconveniently in a meeting, and my dmil, who knew of the whole grant app process, and who kindly let me scream in her ear about how thrilled I was.
The upshot of this all is, in a few weeks, I should have a brand new, non-rotting, six foot, cedar privacy fence around my back yard, complete with a locking gate to keep out random animals and predators of all kinds, courtesy of the state, thank you very much!
While I am waiting, I will try to squash completely the conspiracy theorist in me, who is currently whispering that all gifts from the government come with asterisks attached. And the nerd in me, who is shouting,"AHA!", while pushing my glasses up on my nose, is also being slowly silenced by current elation. Since I believe that all things work together for good for those who love God, I will lock both the conspiracy theorist and the nerd in the basement together, where they will stay until I can get the new X-Files movie from Netflix- or at least until the fence is installed!

Bathroom Remodal is done!

2008-08-15T11:54:00.000-07:00

Well, the bathroom remodal is done. Has been for a couple of weeks, really, but I'm just now getting around to posting about it. DH did great work, and I love, love, love, the paint color. The whole bathroom looks like it came out of a bed and breakfast somewhere, which is exactly the feeling I was aiming for. And the price we did it for was unreal, just way low. We shopped around and got some great deals, like Oak molding and trim in a bundle, enough for the whole bathroom, for under $20. And DH added some great details, like you would expect in a craftsman home. Like the rosettes in this pic: And although this pic is way too dark, this corner in the bathroom is not dark. We picked up the dresser at a flea market for $20. Well, my dfil saw it and asked us if we wanted it, and of course we said yes, and it fits this corner perfectly! And it's great for storing towels , etc. I picked up the lamp at a garage sale for exactly one dollar. It was a lovely rococco gold with a pleated shade when I bought it, and now with a little matte spray paint and a glue gun and some fabric, it fits the bathroom perfectly:
Here you can see the tile-DH did a great job, the rows are straight and even, and the tile adds a great base to the room. The last pic is a shot of the sink side of the room. The sink looks soooo much better than the old cabinet that was there before. I love this bathroom now, and it gives me great ideas for the rest of the downstairs!

Old House Remodel

2008-07-17T11:20:00.000-07:00

Well, the old house remodel has officially begun, sort of. As is the way with most of these things, it started simply. Smaller Dog likes to play with his water, splashing his paws through it as he drinks, which results in a gigantic puddle around his water dish. We tried to solve this problem by putting the water dish on a boot tray, but that wasn't wide or deep enough to contain the mess he likes to make when he drinks. As a result of this constant mess on the bathroom floor, the self-stick tiles which make up the bathroom floor began to come up. So we decided that we simply had to re-tile the bathroom floor.

Re-tiling was always the plan, I just planned to wait until I actually had the money to do so.When the tiles started coming up, however, the situation got urgent. Here are some pictures, of the bathroom currently, the bathroom at it's worst, and the bathroom pre-remodel.

As you can see, things have gone beyond a tile job. After my dh got the tile up, we discovered that the lovely fake tile on the walls was nothing more than glorified cardboard. And since we hated it anyway, we decided to put up drywall and paint. And then of course we needed a new sink to go with it... Shades of "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" , anyone?

In the middle of all this, we all got a lovely case of intestinal flu. So our two-day tile job is now at a week and counting.

When it's done, however, it will put the rest of downstairs to shame, and I can't wait for it to be done, so I can take pictures and share!

Aprons!

2008-04-28T15:14:00.000-07:00

A while back, my dmil promised me a box full of old aprons that her dh had inherited from his mother, but didn't know what to do with. I love all things old and feminine, so I went online to check out old aprons, and have since become completely enamored of them-they are so girly, and useful too, especially when you're at home all day with a houseful of children who want to paint, color, play with clay, and "help" you cook.
Blog after blog I found about aprons, which are apparantly enjoying a resurgence in popularity right now.
The following blog is having a mother's day apron giveaway, if anyone wants to enter:
http://maplelane-jan.blogspot.com/
She sells her creations too. Anyway, lots of links there, if anyone wants to go and browse!

Share With Me, Please!!!!!!!!!!

2008-04-24T17:53:00.000-07:00

Answer the following questions: Who, What , Where, When, Why, and Seven Things I Will Never Grow Tired Of:

Who: Me: Redeemed, Wife, Mother, Sister, Friend, Day Care Provider
What: Whatever God currently is Providing: It's All Good
Where: In My New House, Of Course!
When: Now, and Future, but never past.
Why: To Please my God and my husband.
Seven Things I Will Never Grow Tired Of: God's Mercy, My children's smiles, My husband's love (never get used to that-how did I get it or deserve it? ) , Rocking babies to sleep, the first green of spring, the first red leaf of autumn, the first snowflake of winter. I could go on...

4:17 A.M.

2008-03-26T06:18:00.000-07:00

I woke up in the middle of the night last night, with an urgent need to, um, use the facilities, so I grabbed my glasses off the night stand, got out of bed, and crept my way to the door, trying to avoid the major squeaky spots so as not to wake my sleeping husband. As I did, I glanced at the clock: 4:17 a.m. I quietly opened the door, took a step into the hallway, and promptly found myself face down in a veritable pile of puppies. (On a side note, if you're in the market for a family pet, don't pick a black one. They simply disappear at night, leading me to believe that Alice's encounter with the Cheshire Cat was simply an encounter with a black cat in the shadows of a tree's leaves. Silly Alice.)
Now, the nice thing about dogs is that when they sleep, they really sleep. One of them sort of sighed, but they both never moved as I extracted myself from the pile. Once freed, I went down the hall to the restroom, which is equipped with a handy night lite so as not to wake the whole household at 4:17 a.m. This is not one of those plug-in nite lights, but an actual wired-in light with a switch on the wall, with a wattage of about 4 or so. When I was finished, I thoughtfully turned off the light before opening the door. My night vision now truly gone, I stepped outside the bathroom to once again find myself face down in the aforementioned pile of puppies. They seemed to have thought it was funny enough the first time to quietly move down the hall way and lay in wait outside the bathroom door for a repeat performance.
This time, however, they were not quiet about it. "Woo-woo-woo!" said our Malamute, while the black lab did his hound dog imitation:"Roo-roo!" "Shhh!" I told them, then extracted myself from their wagging, licking embrace, and stepped over them. I've had dogs long enough to know what a 4:17 a.m. howl means. Grabbing the wall for support, because I've been here before, I cautiously asked them,"Outside?" and was promptly almost knocked off my feet by two swirling masses of fur competing to be the first to the back door, the lab stopping halfway down the stairs to run back up, circle me, lick my toes, and jump three steps in an attempt to catch up with the quietly confident Mal.
Once they were outside sniffing, I leaned on the back window for a good look at our sleeping neighborhood. The narnia house behind us (my name for it-you can only see a window between several tall trees, but there's a street light near it that casts a permanent glow in the back yard, and in the summer they leave a side window open, and a trick of the breeze causes the curtains to blow out into the yard, giving the illusion that you're inside the house looking out. ) , the totem pole in the yard next to us, and the eternally blinking light in the garage next door.
I let the dogs in, settled them with a treat, and went back upstairs to my warm bed. I lost this particular battle in the war of Who Lets the Dogs Out at 4:17 a.m., but that's alright. Falling face down in a pile of puppies isn't too bad, when they're your puppies.

Random Stuff

2008-03-05T11:58:00.000-08:00

Well, we've all had the flu to various degrees here. I think I had it the worst, and when it left, it left behind a nasty sinus thing which I am still struggling with two weeks later. Thank God it wasn't that nasty 1910 flu, which killed thousands of people, but it was bad enough, thanks.
Things tend to get neglected when you move, and the list of things I've neglected due to simple forgetfulness grows longer daily. I recently realized we haven't had the oil changed in the family van since before we moved here in September. I normally have it done every 3ooo miles like clockwork, but for some reason it just escaped me when we moved. So I'll try to have it done on Thursday this week, my only short day of work, currently.
We had a lovely warm day on Sunday, and managed to get all kinds of cool, warm day-like things done: we got the car washed and vacuumed, cleaned out the garage (two dogs in the garage on a long day of shopping equals one messy garage!), picked up trash in the backyard, and dd picked up a weekend babysitting job due to a local mom going back to her weekend seasonal job at the local ice cream place. The dogs got to spend quite a bit of time outside, which meant they both needed baths afterwards. Didn't get them, but then that's on the list for the next free day.
I like spring, but it has a nasty habit of leading to summer, which I just sort of suffer through to get to autumn and winter. I can't stand the humidity of a midwest summer, but it's better, IMO, than the dry heat and various poisonous creatures of a western US summer, and the nasty weather of an eastern US summer, so I'll stick around here, at least until I win the lotto and can afford to travel during the summer. ( Notice I said ," Until I win the lotto"? I have every confidence I'm going to win. Have to, every week when I pay the bills, it's what keeps me going until the next week!)
On the list of neglected things is the two full size quilts I'm currently working on. One has been so frustrating I'm not sure it will ever get done, and the other one is simply awaiting a few spare minutes. Spare minutes are not something I have in great supply; I'm writing this blog post while the daycare kids are playing at my feet, so this time doesn't count. I can't quilt with babies in the room, there are too many spare pieces of thread and needles to chew and choke on.
I recently bought a pair of reading glasses for when I work on my cross stitch. I ignored to need for them for quite some time, but the last time I tried to thread a needle, I ended up poking myself in the finger so many times that I just gave up. Old age threatens, but hasn't won yet!
Well, that's all for now. I'm off to change diapers.

Some things I've learned

2008-02-18T19:48:00.000-08:00

Well...Over the years, In spite of the fact that I try really hard to be smart on my own, there are some things I've learned, in spite of myself:
1. Children will learn from what you do, not what you say.If you go to church, they'll think that's the thing to do.
2. Babies will get sick when you least have the time, or the money to go the doctor.
3. Dogs will eat anything.ANYTHING!
4. Emergencies will expand to fit your emergency savings.
5. Your friends and family will be just enough to help you through the rough times. But most friends suck. Stick with God. He's cool, and He's there ALL the time.
6. All those hymns you learned in sunday school will be just what you need to help you up on days you couldn't get up otherwise.
7. God is GREAT!
8. I'd rather have Jesus, than anything... (that's a hymn...)
9. A husband is a gift from God.
10. So are children, and friends...

Winter Marches On

2008-02-17T11:40:00.000-08:00

Up here, in the land of the 8 to 10 inch snowfall on a really depressingly regular basis, we are plodding along through winter, as best we can. The new puppy has taught us that black labs don't like snow, and will pee on the porch in an attempt to avoid the deep drifts in the back yard. Our Malamute has taught us that old dogs dislike new puppies but love deep snowdrifts, and will bury themselves in them, given the chance. The current baby I sit for has taught us that Influenza type A this year, is very contagious, and comes on fast. (So far we've avoided it in our family! ) Owning a house has taught us that old pipes break on regular basis, leading to savings account deprevation.
On the other hand, we thank God for the cash available to fix those leaky faucets, for cute if hyperactive little puppies, for old furry huuuge dogs, and for the opportunity to hold those sick babies and offer them comfort.
Now that we've been back from our Washington trip for awhile, and have had the chance to make up for missing our dd's 13th birthday by being snowed into DC (our airport at home was closed because of the snow in Chicago;DC was a beautiful balmy 65 to 70 degrees while we were there), we've had the chance to settle back into our routines a bit more, but like every other day, unexpected things will happen.
I've been obsessively blog-hopping lately, a wonderful sort of treasure hunt that started with a search for a new apron pattern, and lead to the discovery that there are whole bunches of women with small children out there, who sew their own clothes and dress their children in what I can only assume is some sort of hippie-retro-live off the land-cool style, and who make their living by sewing little stuffed doll creatures on Ebay.
I started looking for the apron pattern because our new puppy ate my vintage cotton apron that I bought at the flea market last year. That's right, he ate it. Fortunately, it was a thin cotton, worn thinner by years of wear. So on that note, I'd like to offer this partial list of things the new puppy has eaten since we brought him home:
1. DS's headphone/mic combo for his xbox.
2. An entire 2 lb. tub of butter. (Resulting in an every-2-minutes trip outdoors for something like 4 hours that evening. )
3. An entire 5 lb. box of clementines
4. the apron
5. DD's barbie's shoes. Several of them. No barbie feet were harmed, however.
6. Many, many socks
7. Several pepsi bottle caps, plus the rings
8. The antique baseboards in the upstairs hallway-approximately a 4 inch square
9. A corner of the linoleum square in the downstairs bath.
10. part of the downstairs bathroom door.
11. small clothes that were glued to the "laundry room" sign on the laundry room door.
I'm sure that he's eaten more than these few things, but the point is, what in the world are puppy stomachs lined with?
Anyway, happy rest of winter!

Back From Washington

2008-02-10T10:58:00.000-08:00

We went to Washington, D.C. last week, my dh and I, with his union, to lobby members of congress for help for a little more attention to the plight of the middle class.
We had fun, and I learned alot. Like, how well-spoken my dh can be when he's passionate about something. And how the other members of his union care about what happens to you. But mostly, I learned that certain political parties, who shall remain nameless here, just don't really give a crap about the middle class. And some from the other party do care.
But aside from that, we really did have fun. We went to the National Archives, and got to see the Declaration of Independance and the Bill of Rights. The Constitution was behind a large screen while it's case was being repaired. My dh asked the guard if the prez was back there erasing the parts he didn't like, but the guard only laughed in response, so we still don't know. I was a little sad to see how much the Declaration and Bill of Rights have faded since I last saw them, in the eighth grade. They can hardly be seen now, just a few words are still visible. Fortunately, with a nod to Ben Franklin, the truths set down in writing there are "written upon every man's heart". If you have a heart, of course.
Democracy , even a limping old decrepit democracy in need of a triple-shot of double-caffeine espresso, is a wonderful thing. We listened to Congressmen speak, visited with their aides, saw the great documents of our nation, and just generally got to participate in the running of said Democracy. Of course, everyone can do this. Vote, call or email your reps in congress, run for local office-just do something to make your voice heard.
And on a side note, bring walking shoes. And bandages. Or lots of cab fare. But if you opt for cab fare, don't go during a cab strike.

Shades of Paint, Thirteen Dwarves and Other Random Thoughts

2008-01-13T10:23:00.000-08:00

Today's post is one of random thoughts, mainly because I haven't posted in awhile and have nothing else to say.
We painted the lower half of our dining room yesterday, below the chair rail. When we moved in it was Go-Bears Blue. Not a bad color, but it didn't go at all with the green carpet and '80's-small-print-mauve-and-hunter wallpaper above the chair rail. Since I don't currently have the money or the patience to rip off and replace all that wallpaper, we updated it by painting the patterned paintable wallpaper below the chair rail a more updated color. I was aiming for a
tan-ish linen color, but the dear people at Menards just couldn't get it right, and we ended up repainting at 11 pm with paint that was already in the basement when we moved in. This was after two coats of primer/concealer on top of the Go-Bears Blue and a coat of the paint I actually bought. I'm praying that the wallpaper is not now so heavy with paint that it falls right off the wall. So far, so good, and the new color looks a lot better than the one that was there to begin with. Next project: the hot-pink room that my daughter inhabits. Who paints a room hot-pink anyway?
While I was doing the breakfast dishes this morning, my mind was wandering aimlessly towards nowhere(A pleasant place to be when you're stressed and not feeling too well, as I was). Of the things that were cavorting around in there was the fact that I can still name the thirteen dwarves without even thinking too hard about it.(If you just said,"Thirteen? Aren't there only Seven Dwarves?" Then you are not sufficiently geek-ified for this blog. Please move along to a nice Disney oriented blog where you will feel more at home.) I suppose that being able to name all thirteen dwarves means I am still, after all these years, just a nerd at heart. That's alright, I guess, because I feel at home here. (And for the record, Dori , Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Bomber, Fili, Kili, Dwalin, Balin, and Thorin Oakenshield. Nod to Tolkien.)
Another thing in my mind is that our new puppy, whose official name is Buddy but has been known affectionately at various times as Vlad, Imhotep, Dingbat, Stupid, Trouble, and D*&^^%! , is, sad to say, not the brightest of dogs. Our four year old Alaskan Malamute seems to think Buddy's going to go away if just ignores him long enough.
Black Labs are supposed to be intelligent fast learners. Ours is just stubborn, or lacking a few marbles, I can't decide which. When we took him for shots recently, the vet said he needed obedience classes badly. We got some, in the form of a shock collar, which is not as bad as it sounds. All the other members of our family tried it and said it wasn't bad, it just sort of vibrated. We used this same collar on our Mal, and it worked wonders. Schooled him right up. We'll see about Vlad.
The last thing I'll write about is my new-found interest in old houses. New-found, that is, since I first walked into this house, and wanted it right away. It just felt like my house the moment I walked in. It's a 1920's - era Craftsman style house. I love all the cool touches put in by whoever built it. Aside from the woodwork every where, which is what drew me to it, there are neat little extra's everywhere. In the closets, for instance, are brass coat hooks. If you look closely you can see flowers have been carved (molded?) into them. This is something that no one but family will ever see, but the care this little touch speaks of makes the house feel like a home.
Since we moved in, I've almost stopped reading the other things I used to read. Now I read things like This Old House magazine, The Old Home Journal magazine, and browse the web for old home websites. I worry about whether or not our lighting is period-appropriate, and whether or not my dishes look right with the cool new period-appropriate dining room table we seriously splurged on. It's sort of an obsession.
Oh, well, just an adult form of geek-dom I guess! Have a great day!

Fun Meme

2007-12-19T19:35:00.000-08:00

Nods to Jenny B's blog ( Here: http://allsorts.typepad.com/allsorts/craft_room/index.html )for this too fun meme:

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car),Frisky Dodge
2.YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (fave ice cream flavor, favorite cookie), Chocolate Butter Cookie
3. YOUR “FLY Guy/Girl” NAME: (first initial of first name, first three letters of your last name),V-Ham
4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal),Red Puppies
5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born),Ann Evansville
6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first),Ham-Va
7. SUPERHERO NAME: (”The” + 2nd favorite color, favorite drink),The Blue Iced Tea
8. NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers), Henry Julius
9. STRIPPER NAME: ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy), Heavenly Chocolate
10.WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names ),Louise Melvin
11. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter),I don't remember, Indianapolis
12. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower).Autumn Rose
13. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now + “ie” or “y”) Strawberry Pajamay
14. HIPPY NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree), Bagel Oak
15. YOUR ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: (”The” + Your fave hobby/craft, fave weather element + “Tour”),The Quilting Rainstorm Tour
My fav is the last!

Grace and Peace, part two

2007-12-01T19:57:00.000-08:00

Grace and Peace? I'm been feeling pretty far away from those two things recently. I've been told, at various moments in my life, that I'm a "fantastic" day care provider, a "great" mom, a "wonderful" wife, a "very resourceful" homemaker.
The truth is, if anyone hasn't already figured this out yet, that I'm merely an o.k. day care provider, a so-so mom, a lazy homemaker, a just plain lucky wife, a terrible financial advisor for my family. Add to that list a rotten driver and a shameful Christian. I also have a hair-trigger temper, the mouth of a sailor, and a pretty sorry physique. I cook o.k., but it ain't nouvel cuisine, it's down-home sweet tea and baking powder biscuits sort of cooking. In fact, I can't even imagine what anyone sees in me. I'm an absolutely rotten friend-they could all be dead, and I wouldn't know for weeks in most cases, months in others.
But something happened a couple of weeks ago, while I was busy feeling sorry for myself and everyone who had the misfortune of having me in their lives, that reminded me what I'm supposed to be looking at. We adopted a puppy. Now, I did most definately not want another puppy in the household. Dogs are like babies that never grow up, and I am done with them, thank you. But I was over-ruled, and we searched until we found one that we all agreed on. A little black lab, about 3 months old. We had him for exactly 18 hours before he started throwing up and sleeping alot. That was on a saturday. By Monday, he wouldn't even move-he just layed there, sleeping. I took him to the vet and got antibiotics. But he didn't get better, he got worse. We took him back to the vet, who admitted him, and hooked him up to an I.V. He's better now, but that's not the point. On the way to the vet, I was driving, and my dear husband was holding our sick puppy. The puppy who wouldn't even move or whine or go outside to the bathroom. In the dark and quiet of the car, our fears for the puppy surrounding us, my husband suddenly whispered,"Look!" I turned to see what he wanted, and there in his arms was our at-death's-door-puppy, straining his weak little head as far as he could, just to reach me. I reached over to pet him, and he sighed and rested his head on my hand.
Why? I didn't even want him. But he trusted me, and knew I was already in puppy love with him and would take care of him.
I guess the things in our life are like that alot-you don't feel ready for them, sometimes you don't want them, sometimes they don't fit into what you think your life should be at the moment. But God always knows best, and if you're paying attention, sometimes you can catch a glimpse of the need the thing has for you, straining to reach you, if only you'll pay attention. Jeremiah 29:11 (New International Version)
11 For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Election Season Rant

2007-11-05T20:16:00.000-08:00

Like most people who use the internet, I have certain websites I like to check in on regularly. One of these is a blog, written by a Christian woman, who does a great job of dedicating every single thing she does, big or small, to the Lord. It inspires me to keep trying.
I agree with her on a lot of the issues she writes about, but on a few things we disagree. Like politics. On a recent post, she wrote that "Liberals are deceived" about a certain issue. It just so happens that I consider myself a Liberal. I also consider myself a Christian and, unlike many Conservatives who happen to be Christian, I don't think they're mutually exclusive. In fact, on many political issues, I think that most Conservative Christians are very deceived themselves.
A few issues that come immediately to mind are the recent fight about the Ten Commandments in the courthouse, and the "Under God" in the pledge of Allegience, or voting for a man who claims to be a Christian, but who has proven himself to be a liar who only cares about money.
I still believe we should follow the Ten Commandments, and I still believe that our Nation is a Nation Under God. I also believe that we should vote for the person who seems to follow Gods laws, and the laws of our country, first, before we vote for someone who follows the law of the almighty dollar.
Do we really feel that leaving a copy of the Ten Commandments posted on a courthouse wall will win any one to God, when the judge sitting under them is upholding the laws of a corrupt government? Will making a Muslim or an Atheist pledge his allegience under God make it so? Will voting for a man who claims out loud, in words, to be a Christian really show the world who we are?
Or should we show the world who we are by our actions instead? Shouldn't we just live the Ten Commandments? ("Thou shalt not kill" pops to mind.) Shouldn't we live as a nation under God, as we used to do? ( "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed..." from The Declaration of Independence) Shouldn't we just vote for the person who acts the most like a Christian, if that is our point of view? (If all of the candidates were stricken dumb, and we had to vote based on the candidates life and political record, who would we vote for? I suspect that almost none of the people now in office would remain there for long, if this were the case!)
I, for one, am heartily sick of all of the political claptrap,spouted by people who I am in fear for, that they are living their lives deceived by the devil into thinking they are doing "the right thing". I beg of all of you who consider yourselves Christian, to put aside all the advice received from well-meaning leaders and friends, and vote for the person who lives what they profess to believe. ("They profess to know God, but by their deeds they deny Him..." Titus 1:16, New American Standard Bible)
If you do that, if you vote for the person who lives what they claim to believe, then it won't matter at all what you call yourself-conservative, liberal, whatever. (And on a side note, if you are a Christian, and you haven't been praying for our government lately, you might want to start. Start by praying for wisdom for our leaders. They could all use a hefty dose of it, I think.)

Dog, Training...Update!

2007-10-02T14:38:00.000-07:00

Well, ddog is officially one of the family now. He has taken to picking up his food bowl after I fill it, and carries it to the dining room, where he puts it down beside the table until he's good and ready to eat.

Of course, this makes a mess. A regular trail of dog food from the spot where his water dish is, to the spot where his food bowl is now located in the dining room. I suppose I should be thankful that it has not yet occurred to him to carry his water bowl to the dining room as well...

The pic to the left is ddog last Christmas. Shortly after this was taken, he felt the need to remove the reindeer ears and take them apart, quite thoroughly apart, and shake the pieces around until he was satisfied they were dead.

How To (NOT!) Buy A New House

2007-09-28T06:18:00.000-07:00

Having recently bought a new house, I think I can now offer a little advice to those who arethinking about buying. Here are my top 10 pieces of advice to those who are buying:
How To Buy A House
1. Show up at house on the morning of the move. Wait 4 hours for the city to show up to turn on the water. After they turn on the water, go back to old house and throw all the boxes in the truck.
2. Have a 5 car, 2 truck caravan to new house. Notice 6 hours later that there is a wet spot on the new basement carpet. Wonder why it is there.
3. Notice after 7 hours that the wet spot is larger.Track wet spot and decide that a pipe has burst. A pipe in the foundation. An expensive-to-replace pipe.
4. Call plumbers and find out that not one will come out on the weekend because you are not an established customer.
5. Wait until Monday, then re-call all the plumbers.Tell them all that the first one there gets to give their kids anything they want for Christmas this year. Have broken pipe fixed, to the tune of$2000.00.
6. Call friend who is lawyer and initiate proceedings against previous owners, who signed a contract saying that all water and sewer pipes, etc., would be in working condition upon transfer of ownership.
7. Call Disaster clean-up team and get carpet sucked dry, and fan and de-humidifiers installed in new basement. Discuss how much it will cost with God Himself.
8. Call insurance agent and find out they won't cover you because you own a dog. (What???!!!) Call friend who is lawyer again. Decide you will never again make fun of lawyers.
9. Have a really long devotional session before bed. Cry. Pray. Thank God that 401K's have hardship withdrawal's.Wonder why you wanted to stop renting.
10.Have dinner with family at new dining room table,which you couldn't do before because you didn't have a dining room, and remember why you felt blessed in the first place to be able to own a house.
This is based upon a true story.
No names have been changed, because we both know who I'm talking about. Please feel free to put us on your daily prayer list.

Thankful Thursday

2007-08-23T15:11:00.000-07:00

One of the forums I frequent on the web is a group that focuses on preparing for holidays. Towards this goal, we have certain days that we use every month to work on certain holidays- one of which, in preparation for Thanksgiving, is Thankful Thursday. On a thread today, some of the members have listed things they are thankful for. In the spirit of this lovely idea, I have listed below some of things I am thankful for:
1. My wonderful husband, who indulges most of my whims, and loves me anyway.
2. My two beautiful children, who, in spite of being real pains about 80 percent of the time, really really really try to be good.
3. All of the benefits of living in a 'civilized' society, including but not limited to, clean water, abundant food, easy transportation, and decent housing I don't have to share with any of God's critters that I don't want to.
4. One of God's critters that I do choose to share space with-my 80-ish pound Alaskan Malamute baby, who is scared to death of thunder and other loud noises and will cry for hours during a thunder storm, but who charged out of the house this afternoon to 'save me' from a really horrendous storm I was trying to escape. (It's good to have someone who loves you unconditionally no matter what. Dogs are cool.)
5. Being in charge of my own domain. It's good to be the queen.
6. A mother in law I actually like. When I talk to friends, and they complain about their mil's, I just smile, and relate how we go shopping together.
7. A country where I choose how I educate my children. Private school, public school, homeschool-in the good ol' USA, it's all good.
8. A country where I tell my manic-depressive, unmedicated crazy neighbor where to go, and then smile and laugh with the cops about how crazy he is. (Seriously, the man is completely in need of some serious meds, maybe some shock therapy. Hmmm, I wonder if I can buy him a gift card for that?....)
I could go one forever, but I won't. What I want to know is, what are some of yours?

Summer Must-Do's

2007-08-03T06:16:00.000-07:00

Growing up, we always had summers off from school. At the risk of dating myself, those were the days when we left the house after breakfast, knowing we had to be home by the time the streetlights were on. Wherever we were for lunch was where we ate lunch. If someone misbehaved, whatever parent was available corrected them. We spent whole days at the neighborhood pool, baking ourselves to a lovely brown. We stayed up late because it was light out still, at 9 pm. Dinners were simple things, with lots of fresh veggies. And how we had fun!
I tried to recreate some of those memories with our own children when they were small. I was reminiscing with my dd the other day, about all of the things we normally do in the summer. Since she's 12 now, she's not really into most of them any more, but they've made some great memories. I thought I would share some of our fav things to do in the summer:
1. Catch fireflies in a cleaned out mayonnaise jar with holes punched in the lid.
2. Camp in the backyard.
3. Roast marshmallows and hot dogs for dinner.
4. Swim all day at the city pool.
5. Spend Saturday at the movies. All day. One movie after another.
6. Spend a morning at the library. Have a cone from the ice cream shop for lunch. Spend the afternoon on the living room floor, on your stomach, sipping a soda and reading the books you checked out in the morning.
7. Have a bike race. (Let your kids win!)
8. Find a creek. Dangle your feet in it while breathing deeply and watching for tadpoles.
9. While you're at the creek, look for milkweed, then find some caterpillars on it. Take them home, put them in a jar with the milkweed and wait for them to turn into butterflys.
10. Last but not least, wait for the hottest day of summer, play hooky from work, crank the air conditioning, order pizza, pop popcorn, and pop in a christmas dvd to watch. (Some of our favs: Home Alone, The Grinch, Charlie Brown) Don't even think about the fact that there are only 144 more shopping days until Christmas.
If you do all of these things before fall arrives, I gaurantee you will start fall refreshed and ready to face the usual rush of new activities. If you don't have time to accomplish them all, I highly recommend number 10- it was always my favorite!

Dog Training or Dog, Training!

2007-07-24T05:53:00.000-07:00

We have a three year old Alaskan Malamute, rescued as a puppy from a shelter. It's our first family dog, and he has simply made his way into our hearts, and the hearts of our day care kids. When we adopted him we had the best of intentions-we bought the best food the vet sold, took him every three months for a checkup, brushed his coat and teeth regularly, and did all the right things.
I'm not sure when all of that went by the way side, but I recently realized that it's been about a year since I bought him dog food. How does a dog get to be 80-ish pounds without eating dog food? Here are some hints: I bought a package of meaty bones at the store to make soup with. I gave the dog one out of the package, raw, to gnaw on. He sniffed it, pushed it away with his nose, and then walked away. He didn't want it so I threw it away. After I boiled the other bones in the package for soup, and seasoned the resulting broth, I fished out the bones, pulled off all the meat I could get, and tossed the bones in the garbage. But I didn't shut the door to the cabinet the can was located in, and when I turned around, ddog had the bone, the cooked and well seasoned bone, and was chewing to his hearts content. A dog can't really prefer cooked meat, can he? I convinced myself he couldn't, and let the incident go. A few days later, and it was Friday. Our family tradition dictates we make homemade pizza and watch movies on Friday nights, and we do this almost every week. It's a fun, comforting tradition we all love. Including, apparantly, ddog, who, as I watched in shock, stood by the stove until one of dk's gave him a paper plate with his own slice of pizza on it. That was the point at which my dh and I decided enough was enough. It was time for the dog to learn to eat dog food.
We cut him off people food cold turkey. And, surprisingly, he actually ate the dog food we bought, even though we had to mix dry food with wet food to get him to do it.
All went well, and when we left for vacation last week, we boarded him for the first time ever, sure that he wouldn't starve to death while we were gone. When we came back, he was thrilled to see us, and no thinner than when we left. Our first night home we ordered pizza, the "5-5-5" deal that's popular around here. One pepperoni, one cheese, one sausage. The dog never even looked at us while we ate. We'd won. But, there's something a little sad about a dog who doesn't beg for food, using those big brown eyes to get what he wants.
When I cleaned up the kitchen after dinner, he was there, waiting for a can of food at his bowl. I looked around furtively, then petted him, whispered sweet nothings to him, and slipped him a slice of the sausage pizza, just to let him know we still loved him. He took it immediately, going to the hallway with it. The hallway? I followed a short distance behind, trying to act like I wasn't watching him. There, in the hallway, he sat down with his winnings, and as I watched, pushed it into the corner, where several crusts had already been stashed. Training over, I guess!

Rules My Mother Never told me I'd Have to Make

2007-07-13T18:06:00.001-07:00

I read a hilarious blog post, with the above title. http://heartkeepercommonroom.blogspot.com/2007/07/collected-rules-my-mama-never-told-me.html

Check it out if you have kids, and in the meantime, here are some of my own:

1. Don't put the cat on the vibrating chair. Again.
2. Don't unscrew things you are laying underneath.
3. Don't tell the person on the phone that Mommy's going potty and she really stinks.
4. Don't tell the pastor what Daddy said when the guy in the red truck cut him off.
5. Don't tell the pastor anything Daddy says while he's in the car.
6. Don't tell anyone at church what Daddy says while he's in the car.
7. Don't repeat anything Daddy says, ever.
8. Now that I think about it, you are not allowed to speak at church.
9. Unless you have to go potty, now.
10. Kitty doesn't need a bath, and I don't have the money for another emergency room visit, so don't give kitty a swirly, please.
11. Kitty does not like playing yo-yo, unless he is not the yo-yo.
12. Don't read any magazines your friend has to sneak you into his dad's backseat for.
13. Don't do anything the friend with the magazines tells you to do.
14. Don't make up stories at preschool, no matter how good you are at it. ("No, Miss Kimberly, I do not let William play in the vacant house down the block.Those scratches are perfectly explainable. You see, we have this cat, and he really really hates the vibrating chair in the living room...")

First Post!

2007-07-12T11:11:00.000-07:00

Hello to anyone who bothers to read this first post. I figure I have so much to say to my kids every day, I might as well put some of the overflow someplace!
As far as the title is concerned, grace is a gift, and peace is what I strive for, and try to achieve a little of every day-mostly during naptimes.
For those who don't know me well, I have 2 children of my own, one is homeschooled and the other has graduated, and I run a home day care. Yes, I love taking care of kids, and no I'm not (completely) crazy. I've been married for almost 22 years to a wonderful man who I love very much.
Future posts will encompass mostly personal things: my daycare, my mind wanderings, my homeschool, and lots of other things. I look forward to hearing from anyone who cares to comment!
Looking forward in Jesus, Valerie