A Military Family Blog

We're all good. How are You?

2010-01-05T08:36:00.008-05:00

So Olivia and I are hanging out in the living room waiting for her bus before the sun is even thinking about coming up if the sun were to show its face today since the white sky is barely distinguishable from streets newly covered from snowfall during the night when it occurs to me, "I wonder if there's school today?"

Two-hour delay. Bummer. Not that there's a delay (lots of accidents out there) but that I didn't figure it out before the whole house was awake.

I know, I know: I've been scarce around here again. It's not like I haven't been blogging! The other one just garners more of my attention, that's all; I'm a wee-bit obsessed with our finances as of late. But in a good way, I think.

It's funny, because before I started the other blog I would keep thinking of things regarding money that I wanted to write about, but it just didn't seem appropriate for this blog, which is why I started another one. I really had no idea how much thought I could give to finances until I started writing about them. Apparently, I have quite a bit to say!

Unfortunately, it takes quite a bit of my free time to write about it -- and then some, if I'm to be honest. (You probably wouldn't want to stop by about now and make use of my bathroom -- this blog hasn't been the only thing left by the wayside.)

In the meantime, we have been (trying) to get ready for John's deployment, which is imminent. I'm not supposed to say exactly when ("opsec, people!") (John's words) but it doesn't help that "They" can't seem to figure out when, either. His flight time changed a couple of times before they figured out that they were getting him mixed up with another guy deploying from base with the same name.

We're getting pretty tired of that.

In the meantime, we've been enjoying some of these.
And trying to finish up this...The tile is just lying there, not glued down at all or anything. I think he just finished cutting it last night. What do you think?

The kids all know now, of course, that their dad is leaving, not that it really means anything to the little ones: it'll make more sense once he's actually gone and not sitting there with us at the dinner table anymore or reading books to them at night.

But we're all good. At least for now. You might not want to ask me a couple of months from now. *wink*

$5 Dinners

2009-12-22T22:19:00.004-05:00

My friend Erin's new cookbook has just been released! It was featured on Good Morning America this morning. Woo-hoo!

(Click below to view the GMA segment with cutie-patootie George Stephanopoulos.)

The Best Cookbooks of 2009

You can order your own through Amazon, or go to her website where she's also doing a great giveaway of ten of her cookbooks every day for the next two weeks!

I ordered a few copies myself from Amazon. Unfortunately, they didn't get here in time for her signing party she hosted this evening. But don't worry -- I know where she lives. And as soon as they come in I'll be getting them personalized and mailed to a few lucky recipients of my own... ;)

Got Snow?

2009-12-19T13:30:00.001-05:00

It's snowing! Seems so appropriate for the first day after the last day of school! (follow?)

And no, I'm not ready for Christmas! Thank you for asking. You?

I hope to be after Monday, though, when I hope to get some final shopping done. I guess we'll see if the road conditions stay one step ahead of the weather conditions...

I feel so sad about neglecting this blog so much lately. Like I've been neglecting an old friend. I have so many excuses, the likes of which I hope to resolve by early next year (heh-heh) so that I can get back to the business again of blogging as usual. Even just the act of writing in this blogger format feels so comfy and familiar. *sniff*

Many of you may have noticed that I've been working on a new blog. I started it in blogger, the same platform as this blog, then decided to take it up to the next level and make the switch to self-hosting on wordpress.

Oh. my. word. I had no idea what a can of worms I was opening. It's like the Pandora's Box of Blogging: Once the top is off you lose all control of what comes out; you just hope you can keep your wits about you and keep up. Widgets and plug-ins and CSS code (huh?) and feedburner and themes and open hooks? That's just a sampling. Talk about a learning curve. I'm still reeling. (And still climbing.)

I even messed around with some html code widget tag-on thingy that put some post thumbnails at the end of each post on this blog. Did you notice? Only I didn't know that it would grab posts from both of my blogs on blogger. My bad. And I was too worn out to go back and figure out how to take it off. Now I'm curious what will happen over time as I'm no longer updating the other blog through blogger, so I'm going to leave it for now. If that bothers you or confuses you, I'm sorry. Just think of it as taking one for the cause of Jolyn's Blogging Education.

I leave you, for now, with greetings from Olivia and Peter while they were playing in the snow this morning.

"We're making a snowdog, not a snowman."

Of course!

It's not the 14 or so inches that the East Coast is seeing! But the kids are enjoying our first real snowfall regardless and couldn't care less. And it's still snowing! And the forecast calls for more tomorrow, and the day after... So we shall see.

Feeling the Christmas... Spirit

2009-12-10T22:09:00.011-05:00

Every time the radio plays the Trans-Siberian Orchestra's "Carol of the Bells" Sean-Peter turns into some kind of marionette puppet with strings and he has no choice but to jump around and do a form of "dance" that basically consists of kicking, twisting, and punching the air. He'll tell you he's fighting the bad guys. John calls it Kabuki theater.

Who knew Christmas music could be so... inspiring.

I wish it would inspire me. I am sooo unprepared for Christmas. I think it has to do with my serious intentions of making this Christmas as non-materialistic as possible: e.g. I'm not going to pile a mountain of presents under the tree. Which is sad, really. If not buying presents is why I'm not inspired, that is. Presents should not a Christmas make.

And they don't, but when you're inundated with commercialism every where you turn around and you're determined not to succumb I wonder if I've tilted the pendulum too far in the other direction.

Either that, or I'm just getting old.

The kids are getting a good, old-fashioned Christmas, by the way, with presents and stocking stuffers and everything, don't you worry. I'm not even claiming to be spending a whole lot less this year -- I'm just determined not to get so much stuff.

Wish me luck. I think I understand why my mom needed so much coffee on Christmas morning.

Carol Of The Bells by Trans-Siberian Orchestra

More Trans-Siberian Orchestra music on iLike

Snow and a Show and Some Sugar

2009-12-07T22:34:00.006-05:00

Brrrrr! Anyone else with me? We got our first snowfall here...Have I ever mentioned that it's still dark when Olivia gets on the bus? And hers isn't even the first one that comes through the neighborhood...

Speaking of Olivia, she's got her first "acting gig" under her belt (heh-heh), a little Christmas show production her dance instructor put on in her studio with a couple-handfuls of her students. Olivia has begged to take an "acting class" ever since I put her in Storybook Dramas at the local town hall theater... over a year ago.

Go ahead, take a look. It's barely a hiccup.

And seriously, how. cute. are they.

And yes, Olivia loved every minute of it. I daresay she enjoyed performing even more than what she enjoyed after the show.She looks nice and calm here, but don't be fooled: she rode the sugar loop all the way home.

He's Still My Baby...

2009-11-30T17:07:00.006-05:00

But he did turn five!

(Grandma's got so many grandsons, it's hard to keep track of them all...)

He was so excited to get mail from his Me-ma...

And Lassie from his other grandma... (Aww, remember Lassie? "Lassie, please come home!"?)

Of course there was cake.

And presents...

He was a tad-bit excited about the transformers. At least I convinced him he only needed to sleep with the smallest one...

I gotta hurry and post this before my husband gets fed up and starts watching our show without me.

2009-11-25T23:00:00.013-05:00

My parents are here for Thanksgiving, and I thought I'd give you all a glimpse into what an exciting time we're having!

This is the scene that usually greets you when walking into a room. Though usually mom and dad are reading solo and Olivia and Peter are wreaking some kind of havoc.

The funniest thing that prompted this photo was that not only was Olivia reading, too, but Sean-Peter was just hanging out, all docile and, well, quiet-like. Like sitting there pleasantly in the parlor was the most normal thing in the world.

Oh, wait. Here we go; now he's all ready for bed.

Aw, isn't that more like it? This was taken moments after the parlor photo. I guess he caught his ~~26th~~ 2nd wind. And I guess I should finish unpacking from my trip to Chicago...

Oh, yea! I went to Chicago! For a whole two days! I stayed with my friend Amy and we quickly digressed to our ~~junior high~~ high school years, talking and giggling like a couple of teenagers. Teenagers with wrinkles. Not that that matters.

At the risk of repeating what you may have already read in my other blog, we had a great time. Our high school friend Nathan also joined us. Sweet, tall Nathan. Back in the day, Nathan and I were partners in our high school's mixed ensemble. As in singing group. When I was talking with him at our 20-year high school reunion this past summer, I looked up (and up and up) at him and said, "Um, you weren't this tall in high school."

He readily agreed. Apparently, he grew like another six inches after we graduated. Who knew? He also went on to study music and voice and he does all kinds of neat things like perform operas and compose music for poems written by inner-city school kids. Yea. Quite cool.

And he wasn't at all phased by our acting like we were a bunch of school kids again. Take this photo op, for instance -- originally Amy's idea, but I was the one who insisted we make the extra trip to actually get it done.
Go ahead, click on it, and think about it. Please, for me? I'll wait.

Funny, huh?

And Amy? She does stuff like this.Not that I hold it against her. But I did do a ~~excruciatingly long~~ very short yoga session with her and I ended up being sore for a week. You know how some people just get better and better with age? Amy's one of those people. Of course, she works at it...

We are planning on enjoying a nice, quiet Thanksgiving at home tomorrow, just the seven of us. We're having turkey and ham. My baby likes his pig. It's not a whole turkey, though: just a breast. And they're both cooking as we speak, all stealth-like in the crockpots. Is that not cool or what?

In addition to turkey and ham, the menu includes...

Sweet potato casserole
Green bean casserole
Stuffing
Mashed potatoes
Cranberry sauce
Seven-layer salad
Rolls
Pumpkin pie

How's your menu look?

Happy Thanksgiving!!

This is How We Get Rid of Leaves and Drag Around Kids in O-hi-yo.

2009-11-15T13:02:00.000-05:00

This time last year...

2009-11-14T10:19:00.006-05:00

...he was obsessed with Thomas.

Now it's Pokemon.

Sigh. Why do they have to grow up?

Now, Where Were We?

2009-11-11T22:50:00.005-05:00

I know, I know. Poor, neglected blog. You sweet thing. Now there, mommy's back now. You miss me?

Hmm, let's see, where to begin... Let's just summarize, shall we?

We went trick-or-treating.
We've taken turns being sick.
Sean-Peter earned another trip to the ER (with a little help from his sister).
I spent a lot of time finishing an assignment for my writing class.
The rest of my writing time has been spent posting to my other blog.
I've wasted a lot of time trying to transfer my other blog over to my own domain.
When I started the process I didn't realize it involved writing code.
I don't do code.
I've tried.
John's feverishly reading and writing a paper for his class.
Oh, and Olivia lost a tooth. See?

John's on-again, off-again, on-again, off-again, on-again.... Honestly, I lost track. Anybody recall where I left off with the latest on his deployment?
Anyway, it's off-again. Officially.
But there's another one that might be on.

Isn't this fun!

Sean-Peter's fine, by the way. Turns out there's a reason Bill Cosby always told us on that one commercial that we should never stick anything in our ears, other than our elbows. And then you couldn't help but sit there and try to stick your elbow in your ear. Remember that one?

Olivia was almost as traumatized as Sean-Peter. Almost.

"I was just trying to clean his ear!"

He's been in for a follow-up once, but needs to go in for another next week. His ear drum didn't rupture, according to the ER doc, but it did bleed a lot, and the second doc wants him back after the dried blood has had a chance to clear up a bit on its own, so's she can see in there all the way right-like.

Isn't this fun!

Otherwise we're all good. "We're fine. We're all fine here now, thank you. How are you?"

(Name that movie.)

Hint: Use the Force.

I do hope you all enjoyed a wonderful Veterans Day! Kids are off of school here the next two days, so my "weekend" starts early...

Oh, and I'm going to Chicago on Sunday! Whoopee for me! A road trip. All. by. myself. What is that, anyway? Anybody have any books on tape to recommend? I'm going to visit an old, old friend -- we grew up together, for pete's sake. She never married and never had kids. She might as well live on another planet.

I might like it there...

Birthdays and Barking

2009-10-25T15:07:00.000-04:00

John celebrated his birthday yesterday... Although mourned seemed to be the more appropriate description for much of the day, and not just because he's approaching the end of another decade... (Ahem)

It all started out innocuous enough. A guy from the phone company came out, a day earlier than expected. So that sounds good, right? He confirmed that our ~~nerves~~ wires are frayed and did what he could on the spot short of pulling them all out and starting over. Apparently, 40+ year-old wires aren't good. Especially with the jimmy-rigging that went on with the previous owners.

Right after he left we did a little jig, because our internet connection was faster than it had been since... Well, since forever.

Unfortunately, that was short-lived.

Routing Woes
John thought he'd piggy-back on our good fortune and work on getting the router to, um, route properly. Alas, in vain, since this was the umpteenth time he has worked on this problem, and always before we could go back to how the phone line was probably contributing to the problem. Now that the phone line has been fixed (as much as it can be for now) he is faced with the router being absolutely, undoubtedly, the worst router. Ever. He alternated between working on it, debating whether to call the Dell Indians at a mere $7 a minute... or stomping on the ground and smashing it to smithereens.

He opted for giving up instead, with plans to return the router to the depths of Hades from whence it came. Or to the BX, whichever you prefer.

Besides, he had a game to watch, with his favorite peeps.Alabama won!
No matter that they shouldn't have, based on how they played. John and some Tennessee fans at work placed a friendly bet on this game -- John should have some beer coming his way very soon... Happy Birthday!

And the kids showered him with homemade gifts, each in their own unique way.

Olivia went on a card-making frenzy...

If you look closely, you might wonder if she even wore herself out. ("Mom and Mommy"?)

The Times, They are a Changing

In what truly says more about this next generation than I could ever begin to articulate, Conner presented his dad with his own homemade "card", DSi style...

I mean, have you ever?

I think John was quite taken aback.

Imagine if the original Disney creators could see what everyday teenagers are able to do now...

Sean-Peter didn't really make anything for John, per se. But he presented his own creation, in his own, unique way.So much for the cake.It's a good thing he's so darn cute.

He's not into much mischief today, though...

Meet the latest cold victim. He's got it worse than Olivia did; he woke up this morning -- not early -- panicking with that tell-tale barking seal cough. He was my only kid who ever got croupy, but at the ripe old age of ~~almost five~~ four it's definitely more bark than bite. It took a while to convince him of that, though. It didn't help that he'd also lost his voice.

Here's a tiny sample of a barking seal cough. I didn't want to belabor the point by forcing it out of him, but you get the idea.

At least Olivia's doing much better...

In Which I Post a Bunch of Photos and Videos and Update You With Our Wild and Crazy Antics.

2009-10-23T20:13:00.003-04:00

Sickness
Talk about a major chill day today. Olivia was home sick -- again -- with symptoms that are decidedly cold-like, and I've decided to try to keep them that way.

These are times I am sooo glad I am a stay-at-home mom.

It also rained all night, and most of the day. Talk about an incentive to do nothing but ~~lay~~ lie around on the couch...

(Especially when you have a reading buddy.)

Sleep
I passed out on the couch for awhile myself. I'm not sick, but apparently I'm not well, either. I basically went to bed with the kids last night, slept all night, fell asleep on the couch about mid-morning, then again after lunch...

I have no idea what my problem is. What if I didn't have the "leisure" to just fall asleep like that? (Never mind about the kids... Hey, the house didn't burn down, okay?) I can only imagine that perhaps all that sleep helps my body keep the germs at bay. John emailed from work himself saying he wasn't feeling too well...

Imagine what this world would be like if everyone just got enough sleep.

Parties
I missed a party yesterday at Sean-Peter's preschool. A "Mexico Party" -- something to do with butterflies? No matter: I thought since I didn't send Olivia to school it probably wouldn't be prudent for us to show up at a festival. But look at this photo my friend Erin took while she was there.

Isn't it the best? Down below is more typical of photos that we've gotten lately...
Games
Sitting at Conner's soccer games has been a familiar pastime as of late. The tournament is scheduled to finish up this weekend, wet fields permitting. I think it's none too soon for his little brother... Not to mention the weather. I think the damp chill at his last game was what did it for Olivia's cold and level of coughing. Ohio's weather is typical Midwest-fare: sweaters one day, shorts the next -- raincoats in between.(This was a shorts' day. With a mix of long-sleeves.)

Pumpkins
We also went to a pumpkin patch recently...

Yet another event with Peter's preschool, where he apparently has a girlfriend.
Just kidding! (I hope.)

But it was the most absolutely gorgeous beautiful fall day in Ohio... Maybe Love Was in the Air?Reading...
Sean-Peter's IEP meeting with his teachers, etc., was today... Again, I missed it, because Olivia was home sick. But John was able to go, so it's all good. We haven't yet talked about what they discussed, but I can't imagine any surprises. Overall, he's simply doing quite well, especially from an academic perspective. Get a load of him here reading...

Reading Preschooler:

Okay, so he's not exactly reading. But it's the first step, eh?

And it was all Olivia could do not to step in right away and show him how it's done. Of course, she got her turn...

Reading 1st Grader:

It is entirely apropos that they're reading a book about guinea pigs, seeing as how we have this little guy now. Meet our latest pet, "Nosy Pepperoni" (don't ask).Otherwise known as "Pepper", "Little Piggy" -- or better yet, "Bacon Bit".

I know, we're terrible. But The Huckster is rather taken by him.Internet-Schminternet
It has taken me all evening to sporadically write this post and download the photos and videos all while dealing with the erratic behavior of our internet connection, which has been sketchy at best. It's all tied to our phone line, which apparently has problems "in-house", so far as we have been able to nail it down.

We are slowly dealing with it and have thus far pinpointed the problem as occurring mainly when it rains, and thus when the box is wet. Here John thought it would be fun to take a picture of me calling the phone company with a phone hooked up to the box outside. Because it's all just so funny.

We have since taped a plastic bag around the box on the side of our house. Because we're classy like that. Apparently a hard rain such as the one we had last night still gets through.

Oh, and we're also having issues with our router, WHICH WE JUST GOT, and our modem, which don't seem to like each other very well. We've thought about putting them in time out, but that's all they seem to want to do anyway, so it doesn't seem much of a punishment.

John's getting right on that. Because he doesn't have anything better to do with his time. We're just all wild and crazy around here.

Haiku Hysteria

2009-10-15T04:32:00.001-04:00

Husband's deployment

a go. Then no. Then yes. Then...

Stab my eye with fork.

*This haiku was inspired by a children's book I read to the kids tonight. (The idea of writing a haiku, that is -- not the theme I wrote about.) Go ahead, try your own. It's fun! Cheapest therapy around, I'll tell you what.

Today's Quote from Olivia

2009-10-14T18:51:00.005-04:00

"Nothing's fair in my life!

"...Nothing!"

All because I told her to clean her room, and she wants to play a game instead.

Oh, the travesty.

Just wait until she gets a job, and her boss expects her to show up if she wants a paycheck. Oh, the injustice.

You wanna know what's not fair in my life, Olivia? ....Oh, never mind. I don't have that kind of time.

Now that's not fair.

Blackmail Photo #287

2009-10-09T10:23:00.002-04:00

In his defense, he said, "I'm a butterfly!"

And So I Rant.

2009-10-05T08:43:00.003-04:00

I'm reading some news this morning and I find myself getting madder and madder. First, some headlines reaming the General in command of Afghanistan because he's going all over talking about how more troops are needed over there or we're going to lose the war. Critics are saying it is "better for military advice to come up through the chain of command." Well, maybe if the President would grant the General an audience it would come up through the chain of command! Did you know that The President has spoken to the Commanding American General in Afghanistan one time since he's been president? One. Time. Never mind the obvious practicality of talking to the guy in charge of a war -- what kind of message does that send? What does that leave the troops fighting this war to think? What message is that sending to the widows? the orphans? their buddies left behind?

While the President and his wife are flying in luxury to European capitals to wine and dine with foreign delegates and champion the cause of our athletes, American troops are dying while the President contemplates strategy and declares that his decisions will not be driven "by the politics of the moment".

How about by some discussion with the people in charge? How about with some recognition of how guys are dying while he takes his sweet time trying to figure out what to do, as a guy who has no experience in knowing what to do with a war?

More headlines referred to a latest attack on some remote posts near the Pakistan border. Eight Americans were killed and four Afghans, with 11 more Afghani police taken hostage by the militants before they fled. The Taliban claimed responsibility. These outposts "are among many in Afghanistan's remote and volatile regions that U.S. forces plan to pull back from in a bid to turn the war around".

Turn the war around to what? The other side? "The new strategy calls for U.S. troops to pull out of these remote areas and concentrate instead around Afghanistan's population centers."

What do you think is going to happen if we abandon the "remote" areas? Is there something I'm missing? Some pieces of information that I don't have privy to that would change what seems so obvious? If we patrol the cities, and leave the rest of the country to the Taliban, what's going to happen as soon as we leave the cities? What motive do decent Afghanis have to work with our efforts to bring peace to their country, knowing that just a few miles away, Taliban forces are just waiting for us to leave, and to grant punishment on those who cooperated with us while we were there? What's happening to those 11 Afghani police forces who were kidnapped this weekend during the raid on their post? What ordeal are they going through right now, as you're reading this? If they're even still alive. And all because we didn't have enough guys out there to watch their back. And now they're talking about taking those few guys away, too.

Well, we should. We should just take the whole lot of them away, unless we're going to hunker down and do what it takes to do this right. Right now. The outcome is inevitable if we don't, so why waste any more lives fighting a war that our President doesn't even consider important enough to make a decision on. It's disgraceful. Disrespectful. Above all, disheartening.

Here I haven't been heard from on this blog for a couple of weeks and you come back for this. Well, I was mad. And already I'm calming down, but while I was still mad I thought, "I'm going to write about this, da#@it, and get it down. Because later when I'm not so mad I won't want to." And that's what happens. We get mad, but then we get over it. Because we have our own lives, our own responsibilities, our own pressing daily minutiae. I don't think we get over it, but we do get on with it -- on with things we have control over. And the war in Afghanistan isn't one of them.

Little Eggy (and Mushroom Head)

2009-09-20T19:49:00.003-04:00

Sean-Peter started back with his Occupational Therapy (OT) sessions after taking a break for the summer. He was doing so well last Spring, and the private company where he does his OT was going to be short-staffed in the summer, what with several therapists out on maternity leave and several others cutting back their hours while their kids were out of school.

It was really nice to have the break, if nothing else for the sake of a change -- not to mention the 20-minute drive each way for the one-hour weekly session. I really didn't know what to expect during the break after a full year of Sean-Peter going to OT. Would there be a change? Would we even notice a difference?

It was about mid-July that it occurred to me that it wasn't a coincidence that Sean-Peter's tolerance level was lower and his frustration level was higher. He was quicker to erupt and more quickly moved to tears for slights that otherwise might have been taken in stride. His speech sometimes stuttered and he articulated with much more effort. We were definitely missing OT.

The progress he has made in this year-plus since he has started therapy has not been lost on me; I am still amazed to think that I once thought I would be learning sign language, and instead the little guy "graduated" from speech therapy. Why, just one year ago Sean-Peter couldn't even sing. He cried in frustration when challenged to sing along to "Old McDonald's" ee-i-ee-i-oh...

And now, not only is he singing, he's making up his own lyrics...

"Little Eggy" by Sean-Peter (44 seconds long)

Little Eggy, Little Eggy....
If you want to hatch
Use your tail or teeth to break it open

"And, don't forget! Another one..."

Little Eggy, Little Eggy....
If you want to hatch
Use your tail or teeth to break it open

Little Eggy, Little Eggy, Little Eggy...

Yes, the little guy continues to amaze me.

Along with starting back to OT, we have also started up his Listening Therapy again at home. This requires a special set of (quite large) headphones that enable noise to filter in while he's wearing them for the 30 minutes of therapy each day ~~that I remember to have him do it~~.

They're also what earned him the moniker, "Mushroom Head". (The hat helps to keep them on while he goes about his business.)

Happy Birthday, Conner!

2009-09-15T22:28:00.008-04:00

We celebrated Conner's birthday tonight, even though his birthday isn't until tomorrow. But tomorrow evening is going to be a busy one, with John getting home ~~later and later~~ later than he used to and Conner's soccer game and then Olivia and Peter will be in bed, so...

Besides, we decided that since Conner was born in Germany in the wee hours of the 16th, technically in Ohio he turns 14 the night before! So it's all good.

I did bake his cake -- I got away with that only because he was in school, I'm sure. Conner insisted on decorating it himself.

And he served it...
I tossed a few gift ideas back and forth... But if I was going to be honest, I knew that what a teenager really wants is cold, hard cash.Even Olivia understands that. (Where do you think the 11 cents came from?)Sean-Peter gave him an air gun. Thing is, the air gun already belonged to Conner. Until Sean-Peter "stole it out of his room!", that is. This would be an excellent example of where it's the thought that counts.

The sole concrete non-cash gift Conner got from us was a brand-new lunch box and water bottle. With strict instructions to tattoo his name on it in red ink to deter anyone from stealing it. Which happened last year. And is why he has been taking his lunch to school in plastic sacks.

Hey, these things aren't cheap!

After he got his gift he acts completely shocked. "I had no idea, mom. Wow, thanks." You'd think I'd just given him a new car.

Thing is, this morning he had just told me that we were out of plastic sacks. "What am I supposed to take my lunch in, mom?"

Of course, I knew he was getting a new lunch box later today, but I just handed him a gallon-size ziploc without a word.

"Wow, mom, I had no idea. You're really good at keeping a secret."

I asked him, "What, Conner, should I have been like, '(wink-wink) You won't need plastic sacks (wink-wink) anymore, Conner (wink-wink) if you know what I mean (wink-wink).'"

He just laughed.

Happy Birthday, Conner. I'm so glad you're my son.

To Commemorate 9/11, May We Never Forget

2009-09-11T09:11:00.002-04:00

My kids have no memories from that fateful day eight years ago. Conner was in kindergarten, about to turn six, but he insists he has no specific memory of what was happening. I do recall that I tried to keep the news on TV, those vivid images, to a minimum. We were staying with my sister in Kansas for a while, while John was TDY. Her boys were as young as Conner and even younger. Their needs couldn't wait while the adults dropped everything to watch replays of the same horrible scenes.

To Conner it is just history, not something he experienced or witnessed personally as it played out. His knowledge of that day, and what it meant for this country, will have to come from us. I remember exactly where I was, and what I was doing, when I learned what was happening in New York. I remember the feeling in the country that we were all united, we were all galvanized and determined to find those responsible, we were all afraid, and we were all mad.

Olivia and Peter weren't even born yet. "Patriot Day" to Olivia means wear red, white and blue to school. As you might imagine, Olivia's always up for a theme.

Someday, I hope, she will understand the gravity of what this day commemorates. For now, singing a song she learned at school about loving her country is enough.

(Video's 41 seconds long. The cymbals were her idea;)

May you all have a blessed day.

There was a mouse in our house.

2009-09-01T22:42:00.008-04:00

"Mom, where's some gloves!"

"What do you need them for?"

"Just tell me where some are!"

"They're in the closet, in the bin marked, 'gloves'."

I know, I'm an enigma.

Turns out Conner was panicking because John had discovered a mouse in our house. Yes, I am aware that sounds like the beginning of a Dr. Seuss book. But come one, a mouse?

First, it was these guys...

It started a year ago when chipmunks tried to get into our dryer vent. Come summer, they simply used the door.

But today, it was this little guy...It took a little doing (and a little destruction)...But John finally caught him.He took the poor thing to the Nature Park, to join our former pet chipmunks Mr. Fluffy and his brother Darryl. (Unfortunately, his other brother Darryl succumbed to internal injuries.)

Where, oh where was the cat? you might ask. I know I did. Once the ruckus had died down and the mouse was safely ensconced in his plastic bag, The Huckster finally sauntered out from taking a nap and was all like, "What?"He is so getting fired.

Ohio's Grass is Showing Its Roots

2009-08-29T21:20:00.007-04:00

You ever heard about the mom who was asked where she lived? And with a straight face she answered, "In a white suburban."

I felt a little like that today, only I was living in a Big Green Van. Conner had a soccer game about as far away from our house as you can get and still be in our little corner of suburbia. Then Olivia had dance yet another eight miles away or so, closer in to The Big City. Oh, and there was the little part about going home only to find the house locked up and I didn't have my key, so I had to go back out to find John, who was holed up in a coffee shop trying to get some Master's work done...

But that's neither here nor there. My point is what I saw while driving hither and yon, at every major intersection along a certain main street/highway in this Dayton area.

Conner took most of the pictures (for some reason it made him nervous to have me drive and take pictures at the same time?) -- I'll let them speak for themselves. The video at the end? Well, that was my attempt to get an audio of the cacophony of fellow drivers joining in on the protests, "Honk if you oppose government run healthcare."

Conner wasn't with me in the van at that point, or I would have handed him the camera lest he up and faint right there in the seat beside me. Sheesh, I don't know what the big deal is. The video's only 17 seconds long...

Like I said, I'll let the pictures speak for themselves -- or at least for the people demonstrating in them. So far I haven't found anything in the news highlighting these protests; we'll see what comes out in the Sunday news. When we were stopped at a light I hollered out the window (Conner just loved that, I tell you what) and asked one of the ladies who they were, and she just kind of shrugged, "We're just grass roots, trying to get our voices heard."

Any other voices out there you've been hearing about the healthcare plan? Demonstrations? Local Town Hall meetings you've attended or heard anything about? How about the voices in your own head? Do tell.

I didn't put a title on this. Oh, whatever.

2009-08-28T20:05:00.003-04:00

Yes, the kids started school! And I would've given a shout out regarding that a bit earlier but we've been having computer woes. Technical issues. Router problems, to be specific. It took a couple of tries, and a couple of days, and a couple different model numbers (and a couple returns to the store...) and more than a couple conversations with Punjab in the international customer service but John seems to have finally squared everything away. Just not soon enough to get his weekly Master's assignment in on time, unfortunately. Too bad Punjab couldn't write him a note.

"Please to excuse John's late assignment. His computer was very broken and he was working very hard to repair the problem. It wasn't his fault, I assure you.
Sincerely,
Punjab."

Olivia...

Oh-bright too early is grand central bus station in our neighborhood. Not because we necessarily have that many neighborhood school kids, but because the few we have apparently go in all different directions: there's preschool, and elementary school, and early elementary, and middle school, and high school... Don't forget the special needs kids, of which Sean-Peter is one. Oh, and there's also the Catholic school...

Imagine Olivia's excitement when one of the buses finally stops right by our house...Only to learn that it wasn't hers after all.Poor thing.

Of course, her turn finally came. And then it was...

Conner...

Conner's turn! He did oblige me with a photo.I told him he owed me because I bought him pop tarts.It helped that the bus actually stops right in front of our house this year -- otherwise he would have given me nary a glance and skedaddled off down the street to meet up with his friend at the old bus stop.

As it was, I got a little carried away with the camera. It was all he could to not run onto that thing.

Sean-Peter...

Is officially better! His stool sample even says so. You know, just in case you were wondering.

But really, kids are just amazing. Just a couple of days after coming home from the hospital he was already trying to keep up with his big sister.

Though methinks she will not be his "big" sister for much longer. They already wear the same shoe size, for Pete's sake. Pun intended.
I just couldn't resist this photo. The lighting was so good. But certain readers will be relieved to know that Sean-Peter has gotten a haircut since the photo above was taken...Though he was none too happy about it.

"Are you done YET??"

I didn't blame him. I'm perfectly capable of cutting my kids' hair (usually). But I. am. slow.

Sean-Peter's in afternoon preschool again, four days a week. Same school, same teacher, same bus drivers! I really don't know what to do with this kind of continuity. It's like we're living a stable life or something. In our life, stable is anything over two years. We're about to hit that mark for our time in Ohio. Two down, two to go? That's just crazy.

They say it comes in threes. I'd take that.

2009-08-18T08:11:00.003-04:00

First we get an "extended vacation" because our car breaks down while we're in Kansas. No sooner are we back home in Ohio then Sean-Peter contracts e-coli from Lord knows where and lands himself in the hospital. Olivia starts throwing up, and I break my stupid toe. I should write a country song. Thank God we don't have a dog or a pickup truck. Although my mom did tell me we should get rid of our cat. (No surprise there.) (Hi mom!)

Poor, poor Sean-Peter. Have you ever known anyone who suffered from e-coli? It ain't pretty, especially when you don't yet know why your child appears to be expelling half his bowels. Poor, poor Peter. Don't he look pitiful?

We started out at the ER on base, where they tested him for everything under the sun and ruled out what they could. They then transferred him to Dayton Children's Hospital where they continued to run tests and I couldn't have been more impressed with the care. Seriously. If I'd had nurses in the hospital like that when I'd had my babies I never would have wanted to go home.

Sean-Peter went through so much. You know how it is when a child is so sick and pathetic and lethargic and weak and so, so pitiful?

He cried so pathetically when they put in the I.V. which, really, is so much more than a shot. (Have you ever had that tube stuck up your arm?) I soothed him and assured him that the worst was over. Then they taped a sack around his nut sack (ahem) so they could collect some urine to test and when they had to tear that off he screamed and wailed and I said I'm so sorry I was wrong because I was sure that was the worst.

The little guy got his first (and hopefully last) ambulance ride, with the nicest people ever, two confident, take-charge women who must be saints to spend their lives helping hurt and hurting children.

They transferred him from the base ER to Dayton Children's by ambulance "just in case" -- the little guy had been so dehydrated and of course they don't know me, his mom, from Eve, so why take chances?

While sitting back there in the ambulance with those lovely ladies, and a wane little boy so unlike the one I know, one of them attempted to spark some life out of him with some idle questions.

"So, you have an older brother and sister?"

"Uh, huh." So, sooo pathetic. You could barely hear him.

"Are they nice to you?"

Sean-Peter suddenly looks alert and starts shaking his head.

"My brother is mean to me and calls me stupid and a loser." Then he lifts his hand and makes the two-finger loser L sign.

Doh!

The woman laughs appropriately and I am a bit taken aback at the biggest display of life he has shown all day. She asks me how old his brother is and when I tell her 13, she rolls her eyes appreciatively. But still.

Oh, Conner. We have told him time and time again what a powerful role model he is to his younger brother and sister. They look up to him so much and everything he says affects the dynamic in their relationship. No matter that he thinks he's being funny or that he thinks they're annoying; they are not his peers and being the oldest bears a certain responsibility.

I wasn't surprised by Sean-Peter's response -- just by his animation -- but apparently Conner was. Surprised and hurt. I think it made quite the impression that his brother -- his sick, little brother, thought of him this way in his most vulnerable moment. What, you going to accuse a sick little four-year-old of making this stuff up?

Partly in redemption? But mostly because he really is a kind-hearted soul, Conner helped his sister make a card for their little brother.

"Jellyfishing isn't any fun without you, Peter."

"We love you, Peter.

Hey, Peter, can't wait to see you, it's really boring without you! I miss you and I hope you're feeling better!

You will get better."

I especially like the last part.

The country song didn't go into full effect until yesterday, though, when I managed to break my toe -- running to change out laundry? Answer the phone? I really can't recall. But it was sometime after Olivia threw up but before Public Health called with Sean-Peter's diagnosis: I vividly remember massaging my foot with a bag of frozen peas while attempting to process "your son has e-coli" and intelligently answer her formula questions.

Is anyone else sick?
Is your son in daycare?
When did you go to Kansas?

In all honesty, we'll probably never know exactly how or where Sean-Peter contracted the e-coli. He simply doesn't fit the standard profile (e.g., he won't touch hamburger) nor does he have any connections with any other cases. It is sobering to note that, at the same time Sean-Peter was in the hospital, at least two other small children were there for the same thing -- and they're still there. Public Health called again today with more questions, desperate to rule out any and all correlation between our son and the other cases, and a bit credulous that he was home and doing so well, as the other children are still suffering so much. We are very fortunate.

My broken toe notwithstanding. You all can feel sorry for me now.

And I apologize for this photo in advance, I just couldn't resist.**
Before the whole e-coli, Thang, I started uploading photos for a Trip to Kansas post. I will recommence on that shortly.

"7 Quick Takes Friday"

2009-07-24T09:25:00.004-04:00

It's been so long since my last post, I thought I'd try participating in one of my favorite blogger's weekly carnivals, "7 Quick Take Fridays" to catch up:

-- 1 --

John got his leave approved for our trip next week. His boss actually approved it some time ago, after John sent the request along with this email...

"My wife has a family trip planned to Kansas for (insert dates). If there's anything you can do to get me out of it, I'd really appreciate it."

John said it was the fastest turnaround for leave approval he'd ever experienced. Of course, he told his boss he was just kidding...

-- 2 --

My sister Carmen visited us recently with her youngest son Ben, who's Conner's age (13). We fit in all kinds of fun things: King's Island; the Columbus Zoo and Aquarium; The Air Force Museum and its IMAX theater... We even got to Goodwill! I'm thinking of donating a bench there in my name when I die: they need a place where you can sit and take a breather while you're waiting for your second wind.

On our way to Columbus we stopped at a rest area. Before anyone could stop him (or even notice what he was doing), Sean-Peter goes right up to the guy who was parking next to us and starts tapping him vigorously on his arm. When the older gentleman finally looked down and discovered the persistent little bugger, Sean-Peter exclaimed -- and these were his exact words -- "YOU GOT A GROOVY CAR!"And he does, doesn't he? He and another older friend were obviously out for a joy ride. After we all laughed the guy looked at Sean-Peter, "Well, if we had more time, young man, I'd take you out for a ride!" And I think he would have. Sean-Peter obviously made the guy's day.

*Sigh* What is it about boys and their toys?

-- 3 --

At one point during Carmen's visit, Sean-Peter asked her to get a basket down from the top of the bookshelves in the basement. When Carmen figured out that was where the gamecube games were kept, she told him he should probably go ask his mother. Sean-Peter replied, "But my mom tells me no electronics, so you have to get them down for me." Luckily, the little guy's still gotta work on his guile.

Later, Carmen came and found me because she had discovered this:She even said, "I've got a perfect blog post for you!"

When his aunt didn't yield to his request, apparently Sean-Peter decided to resort to other means.
I can't remember if Carmen found him before he actually got to the top, or if he started up and changed his mind. But to his credit he did say, "It's scary up there."

It's a wonder we've only been to the emergency room one time with that guy.

-- 4 --

Proof that John is not the only one with, um, a displaced sense of humor... Carmen left our house to go visit a good friend of hers who just moved to Columbus, and this is the inscription on the plaque she gave her as a housewarming gift:

Please God

If you can't make me thin ...
make my friends fat!!

Apparently, it's an inside joke.

-- 5 --

Conner flew to Kansas all by hisself a couple of days ago. Yes, he's flown a gazillion times in his lifetime. And yes, he's even flown alone before -- on an international flight, nonetheless. But that was three years ago, and we used the airline's unaccompanied minor service that time so they were liable for his whereabouts.

But he's 13 now, and perfectly capable of navigating a day of travel, connecting flight and all. (That, and now we have cell phones.) Here he is getting ready to go through security, all by his lonesome. Don't he look so small?Remember the days when you could see people off at the gate?

-- 6 --

We'll be joining Conner in Kansas next week when we go there to visit my family... And also to attend my high school's 20-year reunion. Yikes. Where have the years gone? I clearly remember thinking that people who attended their 20-year reunions were, well, if not old exactly, at least very seasoned. "I guess by now they've done about everything they set out to do." Ha! Joke's on me. I feel like I'm turning a corner and there's just as much going on over the next stretch as there was on the last one. Just not at as quick a pace, perhaps. Please, we can slow down now. I do feel old enough to have the patience to enjoy it now, I will say that. And that's a good thing.

-- 7 --

Last night when John was putting Olivia to bed, he told her he'd lie down with her a little bit because ~~he needed a little nap~~ that's the kind of father he is. John first went to use the bathroom, and when he walked back he caught Olivia holding his pillow under her booty. "What are you doing, farting in my pillow?" She just giggled maniacally and exclaimed, "You were going to smell it anyway!"

Spoken like a true six-year-old girl who only has brothers. She can so hold her own with the boys.

"Bellies in Bloom" and a Giveaway

2009-07-09T10:47:00.005-04:00

My cousin Hannah created an amazing blog, "Bellies in Bloom" that focuses on holistic health care, pregnancy, and natural childbirth. Recently she posted a series chronicling her personal, heartbreaking experience with an ectopic pregnancy. She's been a massage therapist for several years and recently became a doula. (She lives in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area if you are interested these services!)

Right now she has a great giveaway on her blog for some cute cute handmade baby shoes or some beautiful earrings. Go check it out and leave her a comment to enter! You have until tomorrow...

(Stephanie -- if I get lucky in the drawing your new baby girl will have some adorable new shoes coming her way!)

2009-07-04T17:32:00.008-04:00

I hope you are all enjoying a wonderful 4th of July! The kids and I have celebrated (so far) at the Americana Festival in our little old downtown suburbia. John stayed home to work on his Master's class (he did not catch up during his recovery from surgery like he thought he would) (go figure) (I mean, would you?) so he stayed home. Boo.

So Peter cried the whole time.Okay, so it wasn't the whole time. And he was actually crying about his hat balloon with the dog on top. "I wanted a blue one!"

Waa-waa. Here's a quarter, go call someone who cares.

Just kidding. I really, truly didn't say that. And he really, truly got over it. Eventually. I mean, if his sister likes to wear the hat, it can't be all bad, eh?

And he discovered a wonderful new use for it as well. (Video's 26 seconds long.)

Really, could he be any more boy?

Conner was with us, too. Just not nearly so ready to pose for the camera. Gee, how strange for a 13yo to not want to pose for the camera.

He cheered up when he saw how large the sno cones were. And found out that he didn't have to pay for his.And now we're off to a BBQ with some friends. And we're late because I'm blogging. Aren't you so blessed. (Sorry, Tina!)

The lilies are a blooming.

2009-06-30T12:11:00.005-04:00

Of course, Olivia was the first one to discover them. I was impressed that she only picked one.

I am itching to get outside, lay down more mulch and pick some weeds that have had their way with my yard. The temperatures have plummeted and it is downright (relatively) chilly out there. Excellent coffee-drinking weather, excellent getting-stuff-done-around-the-house weather.

Except I have an assignment that urgently needs editing, and finishing. Well, finishing, really. Because you can't edit what you haven't written. Although at this point I'm just ready to send it in and let the red ink have at it already.

What was I thinking signing up for a writing course? I'll say one thing: it's been good for the blogging. You're reading procrastination in action, right here in black and white.

And all those other colors on the page. You know what I mean.

In other news, John is doing much better. Having nose surgery wasn't enough for him so he decided to go ahead and get a cold to go with it. But he went in for his follow-up today and got acquainted with some much-needed relief when the doc pulled out the, um, oh blech I will spare you the details. Let's just say it reminded me of a House episode when this little kid keeps coming in because he sticks little toys up his nose? And just when you think there can't possibly be any more up there Dr. House pulls out something else? Yea. Kind of like that. Only not so fun.

On a sort of related note, John is in the process of changing offices. He actually exited his last office right before his surgery over a week ago, dumped his stuff off in a corner of his new place down the hall (and up a floor or two) because they didn't even have a desk ready for him yet, and hasn't been back since. And no one seems to have missed him, or to be at all concerned when he might next show up.

So we're thinking... What if he didn't? What if he just never went back? When would they finally notice? (If they ever did?)

"It looks like you've been missing a lot of work lately..."
"I wouldn't say I've been missing it, Bob."

Go ahead, name that movie. I'll give you a hint: it has "Office" in the title.

Models and Masters and a Nose Job, too.

2009-06-25T12:43:00.008-04:00

John spent ~~months and months~~ weeks and weeks building a model airplane for a guy's retirement at the base. Have I ever mentioned that John can be a bit, er, um, meticulous? Heh-heh. You have no idea. Model building suits him perfectly.

And he's very good at it. Not that I have any idea what I'm talking about. But you don't have to take my word for it -- take a look for yourself.The recipient could not believe his good fortune, thanking him profusely, telling him it's the best going-away gift he's ever gotten, and my personal favorite -- even told him to thank his wife, he wants to bring me flowers.Because he totally gets the amount of time and effort that goes into creating these models with such perfect detail. I truly was a Model Widow for quite some time.

Immediately after finishing the model, John segued into working on his Master's again. He's officially decided to pursue his advanced degree in Military History -- right up his alley. He already knows everything there is to know about WWII anyway; might as well get a piece of paper to prove it.

I hadn't become a Master's Widow for very long, though, before it was time for John's surgery: his long-overdue rhinoplasty. Poor guy.If he thought he couldn't breath before, he's really suffering now. Of course, we're banking on this all being worth it. I've officially been a Nose Job Widow for three days now, but I certainly wouldn't claim I don't have the better end of the deal.

He was making me hot just looking at him.

2009-06-21T11:13:00.006-04:00

So I finally cut his hair.Admit it. When you read the title, this little guy wasn't exactly the picture you had in mind, was he?
But speaking of hot daddy's, HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, HONEY!

Don't expect this little I-just-need-one-more-thing Night Owl to get up and make you breakfast in bed anytime soon. Sleepy bum. (She comes by it honestly, eh?)
(But she's always good for a card.)

Glenn Beck: The Letter

2009-06-18T10:28:00.005-04:00

I've had a wee bit of trouble in the past posting about politics and current events... But this letter reached out to me today and I'd be really interested to know what thoughts you all have after you read it. What speaks for you? What doesn't? What do you care about? What don't you? What do you think are the important issues of today and tomorrow? What role do you feel you can play? Does this letter make you feel empowered? Or powerless?

Please, go read it and talk amongst yourselves. Then let me know, mkay?

Glenn Beck - Current Events & Politics - Glenn Beck: The Letter

Shared via AddThis

images from a summer break

2009-06-17T23:59:00.005-04:00

**Update
Sheesh. Sorry about the teeny captions. That's what I get for blogging at midnight.

My Budding Little Writer

2009-06-15T20:53:00.000-04:00

Olivia goes through about a tree a week in notes and drawings -- and those are just the ones she does around the house. We have a whole shelving unit by our kitchen table devoted to paper and writing accessories. Sometimes the things she writes are unintentionally funny, like this note she posted on the bathroom door:"a LiiTL PRivecy PLeS thainGk you" (A little privacy please, thank you.)

Many notes are endearing..."I Love DAD. I Love MOM. I Love PeTer. I Love CONNeR To.

By the end of her kindergarten year, she was creating books. This one she wrote a couple of weeks ago, don't tell me it's not sheer brilliance.

"How To Plant Flowers""HOW To PLANT fLOWer [sic].""1. DiG The DrT." (Dig the dirt.)"2. PLANT The SeD." (Plant the seed.)"3. LET iT Gro." (Let it grow.)"4. WOTr iT." (Water it.)"5 GiV iT FOOD." (Give it food.)"6 LET iT BE." (Let it be.)"7 GiV iT Love." (Give it love.)"8 PLAY AND WaT." (Play and wait.)"9 PiKC The fLOWerS" (Pick the flowers.)"The END"

I can't decide what I like best about her story: The steps she chose? The fact that she numbered them? The sad face on #8?

I'm just so proud of her. My budding little writer.Pun totally intended. Oh I crack myself up.

Summer has officially begun.

2009-06-13T22:13:00.004-04:00

Now what?
Just kidding.

Now that Conner's back from his trip, it's been time to lay down some ground rules.

But first, we had some yard work to do. Spring may be a time of rebirth... But it's also a time to cut down what couldn't hack it through the winter.

Unfortunately, the little ones caught sight of John about to have a go at one of their beloved trees and had other ideas.

"No! No!" Sean-Peter came running. "Don't cut down our swoff tree!"

Your what?

Meanwhile, Olivia was wrapping herself around its dead trunk -- literally hugging the scrawny little thing.

That's my little future protester. Metaphorically planting herself in front of the bulldozer.

Because it is, indeed, their sloth tree.
Go ahead and get one last sloth swing, buddy, because it's still gotta go.
No matter how much thy sister doth protest. And stand there sternly with thy hands upon thy hips.

"A Change is as Good as a Rest." (Especially when you have colorful cheerios.)

2009-06-11T17:29:00.002-04:00

You know how they say, "A change is as good as a rest"? I'm going to hold onto that, because the kids' first full week out of school hasn't exactly been restful. But it has been good, in a change-of-routine kind of way.

Conner got invited to spend the week at the University of Notre Dame, Olivia's been in dance camp, and Sean-Peter has been attached to me at the hip. Albeit in a good way.

Notre Dame

Conner's good friend John Paul invited him to go with his family on their annual trip to Notre Dame, his mom's alma mater. They stay in the dorms and gallivant around the area. I'll just show you the email I received from his mom last night (it was to me and another friend's mom):

"Thanks for letting your boys join us on our annual ND trip! They both have been wonderful!

Here are some highlights:
*Monday...arrived on campus, unloaded gear and went to Steak n Shake for lunch with my parents.

Walked around campus.

Went to discount merchandise store.

Ordered pizza in for dinner.

Went snack shopping at Meijer.

Took grotto run and lit candles.

*Tuesday...slept in a bit

Visited Golden Dome Admin Bldg - met Fr. Jenkins, UND President!!

Went to Lake.

PB&J plus pizza leftovers for lunch.

Played volleyball.

Met Tony Rice (1988 Nat'l Championship QB for ND).

Met Kathy Sullivan (author and web site master of www.praynd.com

Went to South Dining Hall for dinner.

Late night campus/sports complex tour and grotto run.

*Wednesday - slept in.

College Football Hall of Fame tour.

South Bend Chocolate Company.

PB&J/Snacks/Cheesecake/Brownie lunch.

Played Volleyball.

Went swimming at Knute Rockne Memorial pool.

Dinner at Hacienda.

Late night grotto run and went to Hesburgh Library - 13th floor (nice Janitor let us in to small room that has great view of campus).

*Thursday - planning on getting up around 9am and packing up.

Krispy Kreme, discount merchandise store and RV Hall of Fame.

Then lunch on road returning home! :)

Hope the boys had fun! I know I enjoyed being here and all we did!! It was nice mix of hanging out and just being as well as activities to keep people interested in things.

We had nice dinner conversation about what people liked best and least about the trip too..."

Notre Dame President? Tony Rice? Cheesecake and brownie lunch?

And how organized is she?

Obviously this was an amazing opportunity for Conner. In addition to everything you read above, John Paul's older sister was visiting as a prospective student and they got to accompany her on the campus tour with that perspective.

It never would have occurred to me to visit a college campus with my middle schooler. Even if I had, it probably wouldn't have been Notre Dame! I'm wondering how much more encouraged he might be to go to college? (And to get his grades up? *Ahem*) Already we talk about it like it's a given: it's not whether you go; it's where you'll go. (And how are you going to pay for it?)

Conner's friend John Paul, an up-and-coming eighth grader himself, told me that even though his mom went to Notre Dame, and his grandpa went to Notre Dame, and his sister wants to go to Notre Dame... he has no intention of going there himself because it's too expensive. He's shooting for somewhere "more realistic", as he put it.

I tell you, it's kids thinking like that that give me hope for the next generation.

***

With Conner gone, and school out, I realize how many things I have been scheduling for times when I don't have to schlep kids around. With his sister at dance camp, and Conner in Indiana, Sean-Peter has been attached to my hip. And boy have we schlepped. I've plum worn him out.I found this scene when I turned around in the car at the end of the day, coming back from the commissary. He clutched his beloved Fruity Cheerios, aka "colorful cheerios", all the way through the store and all the way home. I buy these so I can pump myself up with self-righteousness and falsely justify, "At least I don't buy my kids Fruit Loops." And apparently they make a pretty good chin rest.

Dance Camp

Olivia's thoroughly enjoyed her week of dance camp. It's not a question of whether she'll take dance next year; rather, how many classes of dance she will take. Have you any idea how many options are out there for kids and dance? Ballet, tap, jazz... And that's just for her age, at this mom and pop studio. It can quickly take over your life if you let it -- and your pocketbook.

At the dance camp this week the girls got to choose an outfit from the costume closet and practice some modeling! The video is about 30 seconds long...

How cute is she?!

They also performed five different dance numbers that they learned this week: a rhythmic dance; baton; a scene and dance from "High School Musical" (my camera acted up right in the middle of that one); the Macarena; and a Hannah Montana number -- that Sean-Peter got into as well! It's a little over a minute long...

Sean-Peter's "solo" pops in about half-way through. You'll also see that Olivia is demonstrating quite clearly why they ask the girls not to wear underwear under their costumes for the dance recital itself.

In Which I Post a Thousand Photos and Video Clips

2009-06-07T11:47:00.000-04:00

Mmm .... was that a break? I'm not sure. At least, I certainly don't feel like I've been on vacation, even if this blog has. Anyone miss me? Anyone? Anyone? (tap-tap) This thing on?

End-of-School

The kids' schools officially wrapped up ~~this week~~ last week, finally. Yes, in Ohio we go into June. The last week was full of all kinds of cuteness; just see if you don't just want to reach through the screen and gobble them up. This first video's about 2 minutes long: my favorite part is about a half a minute through when Sean-Peter finally spots me and waves like only a preschooler can. "He likes me! He really likes me!" (Name that movie.)

The second video is about 30 seconds long, and too "wonderful" for words. Sean-Peter's in red on the left.

The whole end-of-the-school thing kind of took away what whits I still had left about me, which isn't saying much. This was the first year I had three kids in three different schools, with three different schedules, and it proved almost more than I could keep together. It was like my allergies filled up my head and pushed out my with-it brain cells. And yes, I have been suffering: I love me some Ohio trees, but they definitely do not love me back.

Conner's last day of middle school was Thursday, so for some reason I just sort of had it in my head that the last day for Olivia and Peter was Thursday, too. If another mom had not mentioned that she'd gotten her kindergartner's schedule mixed up with her middle schooler's schedule (yay! I wasn't the only one) I honestly think my kids would have been standing outside waiting for their bus, me on the phone calling transportation like a dork wondering why they're not picking up the phone.

Actually, probably not. Olivia would almost certainly have straightened me out in time. "Um, mom? School is over?" (Thank you God for daughters.)

Anniversary

John and I celebrated our anniversary about a week before school let out. The night before (or was it the morning of?) John says to me, "So... what were you thinking we should do?" Kind of like, You haven't brought it up so I know you think I forgot, but I didn't. And I'm all like, I really wasn't trying to test you, honest! I'm just trying to keep my head above water, you know?

But we did take some time to go out, to Chili's for some Happy Hour margaritas. Because we're classy like that. Thank you God for sons old enough to babysit!And Happy 15 years to us (insert smiley face).

Meet Mr. Fluffy

I really can't neglect to mention some other excitement we've been having around here. Re: the newest additions to our family! Meet, "Mr. Fluffy".And his brother Darryl...
...and his other brother Darryl.

Yes, three chipmunks. (Although these could be three different photos of the same one. Who would know?) And those are just the ones we've kept. We've shooed out a fair number of the little guys that keep coming into our house, through the garage door the kids leave open as close as we can figure. Chipmunks are breeding like rabbits in our yard, I tell you what.

And the overflow finds its way into our home -- a couple by way of Huckster's mouth: he catches them and brings them by the back door. When we make him release them they scamper off, seemingly unharmed. Although one did succumb to internal injuries, apparently, a couple of days later.

I say apparently because it's not like we're taking them into the vet for checkups or anything. Having chipmunks for pets wasn't exactly something we set out to do, but it seems a better alternative to letting Huckster schlep them around in his mouth? We reckon we'll keep them until they're old enough to have some sense -- or big enough to get away. Because Huckster is just waiting ...Ornery little cuss.

Did you know chipmunks are omnivores? And they love craisins. They'll scamper out real quick-like for those.

Dancers

Olivia's dance recital coincided with the last week of school. Truly, if you had a daughter who loathed getting all dressed up and frilly (as I reportedly did as a child) you should just skip the whole dance experience altogether. Because the recital is all about dressing up and getting all frilly, makeup and all. It's the culmination of a year of hard work (for both the girls and the parents). And if I had a daughter who resisted the whole point, well... That would just be pointless.

And Olivia does love to dress up -- you might recall I once caught her sneaking makeup to school? Dressing up and wearing makeup? Well, it must feel like a slice of heaven to her. I swear, sometimes I just don't know how I got a daughter like her, this mother who doesn't own makeup less than three years old and habitually goes around in jeans and t-shirts and roots that need to be done. (Don't look too closely at the anniversary picture above, please.)

But got her I did, and oh is it fun.

Dramatic at times, yes, but oh so much fun. (The video's about 17 seconds long.)

(After Olivia saw the above photo on the left, she wanted to take a "serious" one. The attempt on the right was the best she could muster.)

"So Long"

And now to finally bid you adieu (especially if you watched all the videos) (and if you did, thank you; you made my effort worthwhile), I will "Say So Long" and leave you with some more preschool cuteness. Just see if you don't wish you had one of your own. Be patient for a few seconds for it to start. (Sean-Peter's still in red on the left. Video's about a minute long.)

Punky Knobster

2009-05-13T11:50:00.001-04:00

So I come across these cute knobs at the base thrift store and I immediately think of Sean-Peter. Like any typical four-year-old boy, he loves balls, and the current knobs on his old dresser had seen better days.

And do you know how expensive these things are at regular retail? I got about a dozen of these for $3.00, almost as much as you would pay for a single one at Tar-zhay.
I made a point of putting them on his dresser when Peter wasn't around, as they're just the kind of thing he likes to get his hands on: Observing how something is put together only serves to encourage him to take it apart. And really, he doesn't need any extra encouragement to take anything else apart around here.

Question: Why don't we buy ~~crap~~ stuff from Wal-Mart?
Answer: After five minutes alone with Peter, it turns to trash.

That same incentive does not seem to exist, however, when he observes the coming together of a meal: no amount of encouragement entices him to touch a piece of raw fruit or vegetable. He has no problem keeping his hands off of those.

But lo and behold, looky here. Doesn't there seem to be something amiss?
There were ten knobs there, last I looked. (Focus on the empty holes and not the dinged up paint, mkay?)

I put those darn knobs on as tight as I could get them without stripping the screws. I was so sure that Peter wouldn't be able to get them loose.

I was so, so wrong.

John found the vents pulled up in all of the bedrooms. He went investigating after hearing some odd clunkity-clunk noises echoing through the whole upstairs. The knobs, such enticing balls they were, were dropped into the nether regions of our ventilation shafts. We can't reach them.

Our central air has been off for several days with the mild temperatures we've been having. Anyone happen to know what dangers can come from foreign objects being thrown into the ventilation shafts? Where they end up? (What happens when you turn the fan back on?)

That little punk. Next time I'm going to come home with little plastic apples or peaches. It'll serve him right.

We Done Got Us Some Grill

2009-05-02T23:25:00.000-04:00

First this.

Then this.Conner's was a bit more expensive. Thank you, tax return.

Spring Dancing

2009-04-26T10:02:00.006-04:00

The sun came out!
Finally giving Olivia the chance she'd been waiting for to wear her new "mint julep" summer dress. That I got from Goodwill for a whopping $2.19. I love me some Goodwill.

And now for your viewing pleasure, and a little-girl fix for those of you who only have boys (ahem)...

The first video is of her ballet class and is a minute long. Olivia is on the far left. I love her mom and pop dance studio: it's such a hole in the wall and the instructor still uses her old albums. As in good old-fashioned records. On a record player. And they sometimes skip. It's like a dance lesson and a flashback into the seventies all rolled into one.

The second video shows the girls practicing their tap dance recital number. It's about two minutes long and Olivia is second from the left...

I just have to point out that this is a beginners' tap class and they still have five more rehearsals until the recital! Luckily, you might say. But just see if you don't think they look so cute you wish you could reach through the screen and gobble them all up.

A Week with Grandma & Grandpa -- and the Night We Had Some Tea.

2009-04-22T22:39:00.002-04:00

It rained like, the first half of their stay. Lots of board games were played...
Olivia showed off her whistling. (She's already loads better than the rest of us combined!)
... they watched cartoons with Grandpa on his computer.
Of course, Grandma read lots of books... (Some were even to her grandchildren!)

And Grandpa was finally able to finish reading "Black Beauty" out loud to Conner -- two years after they first started it! (I missed that photo op.)

Mmmm, Graeter's Ice Cream!
Toward the end of their stay mom and I finally got some antiquing in, starting with some stores in Lebanon. (Well, one antique store, but it was a good one. We kind of got a late start.)

We also made it to the open-air flea market off of I-75. HUGE! It's a bit rough around the edges, but you can certainly find some good deals. We didn't even go through half of it. We had to leave before I spent any more money...

Then we went to our Happy Place: A bookstore with a coffee shop. You know you're with me on that one.

When the rain let up a bit, Grandma helped Olivia and Peter develop their batting technique.
Conner wasn't about to be left out of the fun.

The day they left, Grandma and Grandpa stayed long enough to watch Olivia's first T-ball practice before starting the long (14-hour) drive back to their home in Kansas. Aren't they champs? That's devotion for you.

Yes, it was raining again. But it didn't dampen Olivia's spirits at all. She was sooo excited to start her newest sport.

The Dayton Tea Party

These photos are mainly for my sister, who I know was quite interested in the Tea Parties being held around the nation on Tax Day. We attended the one in Dayton! Along with ~~6,000~~ 8,000 other people, according to the local news.

I took pictures of as many signs as I could, as best as I could with two little munchkins wondering, "Where is the party?" and not at all impressed with where we ended up.

A good number of the signs were denigrating Obama specifically and his policies. But I ignored those: that was not at all the point of these demonstrations, despite what the mainstream media's headlines may have told you.

Besides, the more I listen to the news and ~~fail~~ try to keep up with the political issues, the more I realize that no one in Washington seems to be speaking for me. I do believe I may have to start registering as an Independent.

Speaking of feeling disenfranchised, the guy in the photo below kind of looks like Sayeed from Lost, don't you think?

"Get your filthy hands off my money!!" Too funny.

And my personal favorite...

"The Stimulus bites." The only thing funnier would be if the sign had been put on a yapper.

We were all excited to be there, really. Especially Conner. "Why do I have to go?" He had no desire to understand what all the fuss was about. He changed his colors a little bit when everyone was talking about it in school the next day and they thought it was cool that he'd been there.
Considering the number of people who showed up, the whole scenario was rather calm. The speakers were very difficult, if not downright impossible, to understand from the back of the main crowd. Plus, we couldn't see them. Not that it would have done any good to sit at the front of the crowd with kids in tow. We really went just to experience it all first-hand, and I am glad we did.

Now, there was the occasional brouhaha going on, but of course the second I decided to record some video it all died down. The lady in the video with the sign, "Honk if I pay ur mortgage" was cracking us up, along with the guy going around selling "Obamacards". That's capitalism at work, baby.

The crowd had just been chanting before I started the video. We weren't going out of our way to brainwash Sean-Peter, honest.

We didn't even try to stay for the whole thing. "We came, we saw, now let's go get coffee."
Besides, everyone knows...
Maybe we should send some more to the people in charge of our tax dollars.

Watch Erin on the Rachael Ray Show Tomorrow!

2009-04-20T21:42:00.002-04:00

My friend Erin from $5 Dinners is going to be on the Rachael Ray show tomorrow! (Tuesday, April 21st.) As the title of her blog suggests, she's all about preparing economical meals, and she got herself a gig up in the big city to tell all about it on national television.

Erin wrote to the Rachael Ray show several months ago, not long after she started her blog, in response to a segment the show did with Whoopi Goldberg where they were discussing the idea that it is more expensive to eat fresh produce and healthy foods. Au contraire. Erin immediately wrote in disputing the very notion, then promptly forgot all about it.

Until last month when Rachael Ray's people called her! Then came to her house! Then invited her to New York City to be on the show!

My heart goes all a flutter just thinking about it. I have no idea how she got herself through it all without fainting, except that she's way more with it than I am. I say again, Erin, don't forget us little people!

Check your local listings for the show. In the Dayton area it's on at noon. And if you have a life, you know, set your DVR.

I for one plan on doing both: My DVR will be set, and as soon as my youngest child gets on that school bus at ten minutes before 12:00, I'll be in my car heading over to Erin's house to watch it live. Along with about fifty of her other closest friends. *wink*

***

Oh, and if you haven't checked out 5dollardinners.com, you should. It's a phenomenal blog and really will motivate and give you ideas on how to save on your grocery bill.

2009-04-09T11:59:00.001-04:00

Sean-Peter has officially graduated from private speech therapy. He has simply met all of his age-appropriate goals that his speech therapist set for him.

If someone had told me a year ago after he was diagnosed with his verbal apraxia speech disorder that there would ever be an end in sight, I wouldn't have dared hope.

I really, truly, was bracing myself for a long journey. I was mentally preparing for possibly homeschooling, at least initially, not just for the sake of his academic progress but also so he didn't begin his public education unduly judged in a social network of peers while his speech caught up. Last June I was contemplating my need to learn sign language, for Pete's sake! (Pun intended.)

His speech journey is not ending: it's just on a developmental path right now. We will have him reevaluated when he turns five (in seven months), specifically to assess his articulation, sentence formulation, and prosody.

I will always have one ear tuned to any future implications that this disorder may have on his language skills, particularly as it affects perceptions of his learning capabilities. (e.g. As he struggles to "spit it out", someone not familiar with him or his history may think he's struggling to understand the question rather than simply working on sequencing the sounds he wants to use to express himself.)

His occupational therapy sessions will continue, probably at least for the next six months, for his sensory integration development and tactile sensitivity issues; and we will continue his therapeutic listening at home.

And I will continue to encourage his self directing in improving his articulation skills in the areas he still struggles, using techniques I have learned from Melissa.Just the other day he self-corrected his "l" sound in a word to say it more clearly, to "use his tongue" to make the sound. I praised him, "Good job making your "L" sound, Peter! How did you learn to do that so well?"

"I learned it from Miss Muh-lissa!"

Thank you, Miss Muh-lissa! I will forever be grateful that God put you in our path.

Trying to Get My Groove Back

2009-04-07T16:57:00.007-04:00

Now, I know that like, a third of this country just got dumped on by a Spring blizzard. But it was still a bit disconcerting to come back from Texas, where we were wearing shorts and sunscreen, to Ohio, and see this.

I felt a little bit like Olivia here, only without all that energy.

What to do? What to do? I seem to be spinning my wheels and looking down to find I've been riding on a treadmill all day and have gone absolutely nowhere.

Have I always been like this after a trip? I'm sure I have. Except that nine months is by far the longest we've ever gone without traveling somewhere, for some reason. I seem to have lost my Travel Mojo.

Or maybe I'm just getting old.

Traveling that often probably sounds excessive to some of you, but always living away from relatives -- and often in places that offer so many things to do and see -- we have found ourselves on the road quite a bit.

Which is still better than finding ourselves in the air, and I say that even following this recent road trip, where we covered more than 2000 miles.

I appreciate all of your comments and suggestions from my last post. Especially a couple of you who felt so strongly about your opinion that you had to comment about it more than once. *wink*

I do have something in the works, although so far those "works" are all in my head. I do hope I get my Writing Groove back quickly; I belatedly looked at the calendar and realized that my parents' visit is coming up. "Oh, that's this weekend!" And I don't know how much writing I'll do while they're here. Too many other, more important things to take care of. Like, oh, antiquing, just to throw something out there...

Me-Ma

2009-04-03T01:04:00.002-04:00

We've had a wonderful visit this past week in San Antonio. Truly, we could spend another week here and never run out of things to do and people to see.

It's hard to leave John's mom, who hadn't seen Conner since he was just a little punk, and Olivia since she was a baby. Sean-Peter, she was getting to know for the first time.

Becky had been a bit concerned how the kids would take to her. But she needn't have worried: They clung to her like stink on poo. (But in a good way.)

Sean-Peter, for one, was quite taken with his grandma."When I'm all growed up, I want to marry Me-Ma."

How cute is that?

Of course, he also says things like, "I broke my tummy bone." And, "The cold air makes my legs feel warm." So take it for what it's worth: You know, a little guy cute as the dickens and twice as ornery just trying to express himself.

Before we even left her house this evening he was saying that he missed her. I think I see me some Me-Maw withdrawal symptoms in my future.

I have so much about this trip I'd love to blog about after we get home and I do like, oh, 20 loads of laundry. What do you think, one longish post? Or bits and pieces over time?

One longish piece ... might be kinda long. (Or not.)(You know, depending on my mood.)

Bits and pieces ... I might experience Bloggers' ADHD and lose interest before I write everything while it's still fresh in my mind.

So we'll see. If you have an opinion, feel free to chime in. Aside from my apparent obsessive need to write in this blog (as evidenced by this late hour *ahem* with a long day of travel ahead of us tomorrow) your comments really help me to keep this up. No pressure or anything.

So glad we got to visit with you, Me-Maw. We're going to miss you.

We left at the crack of 6:00.

2009-03-27T09:08:00.003-04:00

Six o'clock PM, that is. (Have I mentioned that we are not morning people?)

Three hundred twenty-five miles down.
Just 929 to go.

Once Upon A Time There Was a Little Girl Who Needed a Haircut.

2009-03-21T09:15:00.003-04:00

So her mother cut it.

But the little girl decided that she wanted it cut some more, so she took the matter into her own hands.For several weeks the little girl went around looking like a homeless waif. Or at least like the daughter of a woman who should not be allowed to cut hair.

But eventually the mother did take her daughter in for some professional intervention.
The hairdresser was very sweet. "It could have been worse." And the mother knew she was right. She has seen children who take the scissors right up to their scalp. The hairdresser gave her a cute bob and declared, "Now people will think you're eight instead of six!" The daughter seemed quite taken by the idea.But the mother was not. "Oh, no no no." That would never do. There is no hurry for these things. Her little girl is growing up quite fast enough on her own, thank you very much.

And the Winner Is....!

2009-03-17T22:49:00.008-04:00

My nephew Drew is a junior in high school getting ready to go to his first prom. Being the clever lad that he is, he decided to save some on the cost by arranging a deal with a tuxedo rental shop: Drew wore won of their tuxedos to his high school for one whole day (hello, advertising), and in exchange he gets his tuxedo rent-free.

How cool is that? That's the very definition of bartering, my friends. Not to mention genius.

I have a few financial blogs I (try to) keep up with -- a few of them are on my sidebar. I happened across the blog Gather Little By Little when there was a contest asking for creative ideas on how to save money. The winner would receive a $25 Amazon gift certificate.

Having just read my sister's blog post about my nephew's savvy financial planning, I shamelessly decided to submit Drew's idea as my own and quickly sent off a comment:

"I admit I am borrowing this idea from my nephew, but it is just too clever not to share. Young men, for prom — instead of renting your tux, work out a bartering deal with the rental shop. My nephew wore one of their tuxes to his high school for a whole day (”advertising”), and in exchange he is getting his tux for prom rent-free! Now that’s using your noggin, as my grandma would say."

At least I admitted I stole the idea. Because I'm sure you can see where this is going ... I totally won the gift card! Woo-hoo!

In all fairness, and because I'm all about encouraging creative fiscal planning, I am going to pass this prize on to my nephew. Go treat yourself to a little Amazon shopping, okay, Drew? Just drop me an email (comment) and I'll send the e-card right to your inbox. Instant gratification. Knock yourself out.

(In all honesty, this will actually be a test to see how long until my sister catches up with my blog -- and since they're traveling on their Spring Break right now, I'm betting it will be a bit -- because my nephew read his aunt's blog? Puh-leeze.)

**Go here to see Drew as a walking ad ... And as I read my sister's post again, I realized I was a tad bit mistaken: he gets a major discount on the tux rental, but it's not completely free. Oops. My bad.

It should be free. Does that count?

A Winter Bouquet

2009-03-10T20:33:00.005-04:00

When your ears are full, your chest is tight, and your muscles ache, nothing lightens your spirits quite like a winter bouquet.Olivia thought this would make me feel better, "Even though it's dead, it's still beautiful." I must say she's quite right.

*************

Conner told me a joke he heard at school:

"How can you tell the economy isn't alive?"

"It doesn't respond to a stimulus!"

Ba-duh-bum!

I'm sure that one's been going around, but it was the first I'd heard it and it made me giggle.

*************

The board that announces the promotions to Major posted the names today.

Drum roll, please....

John's on it! Go ahead, do a woo-hoo! for me. Because it is an exciting relief. To think, way back in his prior service days when he was just a lower-enlisted peon (no offense, hubby - I was right there with you) it was just a dream to be an officer some day. Once he got that he thought, "Wow, now I'll even retire as a Captain." To get major is just the icing on the cake. Who knew.

Just to clarify, these things aren't immediate. I don't know when they'll announce the timing of the individual promotions, but his "pin-on" date could be well over a year from now.

What that means in layman's terms: no pay-raise yet.

**************

But in other financial news... We rented our house in Vegas! Can I get another woo-hoo?! We had lowered the rent and offered a free month, trying to entice an actual contract, and it still took this long.

I'm not complaining, just explaining.

**************

Was anyone else super annoyed at American Idol last week when Kristin was skipped over for the wild card selection but the judges ended up giving Tatiana another chance?? I mean, really. At least they had the sense not to send her through to the real final.

And now I'm off to watch American Idol with Conner on our DVR. And eat some muffins. Yes, you heard me right. I gotta feed this cold, right?

Is It Possible?

2009-03-07T19:28:00.011-05:00

Could Spring be coming to stay?

I probably don't want you to answer that.

These pictures were taken yesterday; Friday afternoons are mine and Peter's, when his sister and brother are both in school.

The weather today was more of the same, but Peter was decidedly not.He woke up flushed, with a fever -- a common theme around here of late. No playing outside for him today.
I totally agree, Becky: We need to work on being healthy. With the warmer temperatures, it was nice to air out the house today, bringing in that ~~verdammte~~ frishe Luft, as my German ancestors would say, the brisk breeze blowing through quickly drying the floors I scrubbed with disinfectant. A purge feels needed. Wish us luck. And feel free to blow us some Spring prayers of your own our way.

2009-02-27T21:47:00.004-05:00

Sean-Peter overflowed the toilet, the cat threw up on the carpet, and Conner has strep. It's been a banner of a day.

I caught myself getting irritated, with that familiar annoyance toward the military healthcare system that necessitates going to the base emergency room and triaging your child in to see a doctor, instead of easily making a same-day urgent care appointment like it used to be Back in the Day.

But I reminded myself of something I had just read by another blogger I love to follow, who recently visited a children's hospital in Morocco, the country where they now make their home. And I remembered how good, how really, really good we truly have it.

Even in These Times, in this country, with so many people searching for work and going without healthcare, we are taken care of. John's job is secure, our trips to the doctor are paid for, medicine we need is at our fingertips. So what if we have to wait for it.

(Though perhaps that is easier for me to say: John's the one who took off work to sit with Conner at the ER for half the day.)

After all, my son has motrin to make him smile. And a sister.Who merely saw this as another opportunity to show her love, Olivia style. And that's nothing to shake a stick at.

Why American Idol is Bad for My Health

2009-02-26T22:51:00.010-05:00

Usually it's popcorn.Sometimes it's cake.Last night, Conner presented me with this.Seriously. I made him reenact it for a photo. In rare 13-year-old form he obliged. A pan of these brownies lasts about five minutes in this house, by the way. (Just in case you were thinking of happening by.)

Now, I don't have a weight problem, per se. But sheesh.

Yes, American Idol is a tradition in this house. Bonding for a mother and son, you might say. So weird to think he has practically grown up watching this, with a bit of a break during our time in Italy when the episodes were one day behind and we weren't spoiled with a DVR.

He really is becoming quite the baker. Mostly with mixes so far, but hey -- you gotta start somewhere.

Yesterday when he made these brownies he says, "I feel like baking something. I don't even feel like eating it, I just want to make it." I know you all are so jealous.

Or not, as your conscious may dictate. As it is, I suppose I could stop buying the mixes ... But that would be like discouraging culinary instinct, wouldn't it? Besides, I've had all these coupons...

Poor guy. Tonight he wasn't exactly baking up a storm. The crud that went through this house is apparently doing a revisit; or maybe it just told its friends that this was a wonderful place to be, because no sooner did everyone finally get over it than did ~~the little stinker~~ poor Sean-Peter start his barking seal cough again. And today Conner was home sick from school, and Conner is never home sick from school.

He seems to be doing much better now, though we'll know for sure in the morning. I'm sure he'll be up and baking again in no time. Even having his cake and eating it, too, so to speak.

*Is anyone else keeping up with American Idol? I was a bit disappointed that Megan didn't stay on this week, though I believe she has a chance at the wild card. I'm not sure that Nick aka "Norman Gentle" does, though -- at least not if Simon has anything to say about it. And he definitely has something to say about it. I can't help but be a little sorry that we might not see him back. I thought he was very entertaining. And he had some pipes, too.

And what was up with Kara tonight? Telling Matt how she was "so hard on him" last night because she likes him so much? Um, a little late? Like, if she thinks he's "so great" maybe she should have encouraged the audience to keep him around to show us what he can really do? Because that guy does have talent. Piano dueling? Come on. How cool is that?? That's some mad keyboard skillz he's got, is all I can say. It's too bad we might never see them again.

When New Friends Become Old Friends

2009-02-22T23:15:00.002-05:00

We've been taking turns getting sick around here. The Cold Plague, as it seems. I am much better myself now, thank you very much for asking. But Olivia's ears started hurting yesterday, so naturally her little brother determined we should listen to her heart.We did take her to a real doctor today, and it turns out she has a double ear infection. Poor thing.

Before she started feeling so poorly -- or at least started complaining about it -- we had a wonderful time with some friends from Germany and their beautiful bilingual girls.We knew Stephanie and Doug while we were living in Italy and hadn't seen them in over two years -- they left Italy several months before we did. Doug has since retired from the Air Force and they now live near Trier, Germany, Stephanie being German herself. And we couldn't have been more pleased that they made it work to see us during their latest trip to the States.

The last time their Emma and our Olivia were together they were three years old, the best of friends.This month they each celebrated their sixth birthday, within one day of each other. And within minutes of their reunion they resumed their friendship as if the last two years had never existed.A couple of years ago, Maya and Sean-Peter were a couple of drooling mischief makers.
Now settled into each other with a friendship in its own right.
In a lifestyle such as ours, when regular moves make relationship building a rather tenuous endeavor, it's friendships like these that can stand the test of time. Which is why I am so grateful and glad they made the effort and took the time and energy to come our way. Only time will tell how our children will relate to each other as the years pass, but I really hope to continue to give them the opportunity to find out.

***
The second night they were here we had some other friends come by, another family we had also known at Aviano, who came for dinner and added two more girls to the mix, both around the same ages as the other four.The kids all played, really, exceptionally well all evening. With only one noticeable complaint from Sean-Peter early on, "But I don't want to be the monster!" Poor guy was dreadfully outnumbered.This is Autumn and Paul. A beautiful couple if there ever was one. They PCS'd to Wright-Patt from Italy a couple of months before we did. Before Italy we were both in Las Vegas at the same time, too. (Although we didn't know each other then.)

Do you notice a trend?

Like us, they came to Ohio with orders to stay at least four years. EXCEPT -- Paul tested for Chief and got it on the first try. That like, never happens. He's some kind of genius superhero or something. The catch, though, is that he had to find a new job: There are only so many positions available for Chiefs. Chances were slim that he would find one at Wright-Patt, so...

John and I were all like, "Get us somewhere good!"

Sure enough, they just found out they have to PCS this June -- to Hawaii. Gee, that's rough.

Except I actually wouldn't want to move to Hawaii. I've heard the schools aren't any good. Anyone want to share anything they know about that?Here we all are, Stephanie, Autumn and I. And I really do feel like I must explain. Because I am not that short, honestly. Yes, we are all standing. But it's just that they're so tall. Both Stephanie and Doug are over six feet. Seriously. I feel like a munchkin. Here they are, for instance, doing my dishes, of all things.Are these friends, or what? I didn't know whether to kiss them or take away their passports.

And they are the most beautiful couple as well, I just have to add. For some reason I never took a photo of them side-by-side. But isn't Stephanie just glowing? She should -- not only did they just come from vacationing in Florida, she's also baking a new little bun in the oven. A little, "Whoops, what a surprise! but isn't it wonderful?" addition to their family. I'm so happy for them.

This photo is completely gratuitous, but I just think Emma's outfit complete with stockings is too, too adorable. To me, this totally speaks German.And for your viewing pleasure, I give you about a minute of mindless chatter of five little girls -- and one little boy desperately trying to hold his own and make his voice heard.

And just for the record, Stephanie? If you guys found yourselves getting sick after you left here I am really, really sorry. I'm still so glad you came.

Trying to Grocery Shop on a Budget

2009-02-14T22:25:00.005-05:00

I have been neglectful not mentioning my friend Erin's $5 Dinner Workshop that she held a couple of weeks ago in the Dayton area. She discussed healthy eating, portion control, couponing, grocery store advertisements, and meal planning, among other things...

She had limited the (free-of-charge) class size to 50 and it filled up quite quickly. (Have I mentioned that her website has really taken off?) Of course, at the last minute a number of people had to cancel or otherwise didn't show, but the room she had reserved at the local library was still rather cozy.

I am of two minds about shopping at the commissary versus the civilian market and local stores like Kroger or Meijer's. Based on what I have learned from sites like Erin's, I do know that you can learn to play The Game of combining weekly sales with coupons and walk away saving 40% and more off of your grocery bill (as Erin does regularly). HOWEVER -- half of the time I see a "good deal" in a grocery mailer it seems I discover that same item at the commissary for the same price or lower; and the other half of the time I wo~~n't~~ can't justify an extra trip just for one item...

I sat with a couple of other friends at the workshop who also happen to be military. Next to my friend Deanna was a woman who we learned was also married to military, and at the end of the workshop we got into a discussion about the commissary vs. Kroger. The other woman commented on how she wished she didn't live so far away (25-30 minutes) from the commissary because it was so much cheaper than going locally. Deanna completely disagreed and said that Kroger was cheaper if you shopped their sales and used their double coupons.

I sat there and said nothing because I was completely undecided. I haven't, after all, attempted to seriously play The Game and go all out with meal planning and stockpiling around local stores' weekly sales and matching those items with available coupons. That's what Erin and others like her do, which is what enables them to walk away paying perhaps $80 for what would otherwise be a $140 grocery bill.

I have slowly started paying attention to the commissary's own sales, which they do have, just for several weeks at a time instead of weekly. The commissary doesn't double coupons, but they do have their own which they display in the aisles next to the items. (You can also find them online.) And I know this sounds stupid, but I used to only use these coupons if I happened to have that item on my list that day; I never took extra or stocked up on them for future shopping (e.g. to match with that item when it went on sale).

"Small moves, Ellie." (Name that movie.)

I am much better with couponing now, though I am still working on coordinating coupon usage with the sales and meal planning and stockpiling accordingly. I have cut my grocery budget down by quite a bit: I now regularly spend under $100 per week instead of over. And considering toiletries, personal items, and various household needs are included in that I think that's pretty good, at least for now.

After Erin's workshop, appropriately enough, I headed to the commissary for my weekly visit. I was behind schedule because of snow days which caused the base to even close, of all things (that like, never happens). I would normally never go on a Saturday, especially when it falls right after pay-day. I figured it would be a bit crazy, especially after the snow days, and perhaps even because of the Superbowl the next day. (I told you I was a bit neglectful posting about this.)

But HOLY SCHMOKES, people.
Yes, I had my camera. (I'm not a complete freak -- I had just come from Erin's workshop, remember.) The picture above means nothing to you, I know. So let me just explain that this is the end of the line for checking out and it's at the back of the store.

Right after I took this some guy said, "Oh, yea? This is nothing. When I got in the line it was all the way by the cucumbers."

The cucumbers are right by the front entrance, meaning the line went all the way from the front to the back of the store, along the whole back, to the other side, up along that edge, before heading back to the front. Here I was in the back corner, finally heading back toward the front.Once you go toward the front of the store again, the line looked like this. If you squint your eyes you can glimpse the registers up ahead, well beyond the Bakery sign.

Phew, made it! But what's this?Once you reached the registers the line switched back, three times. (Yes, around the toilet paper.) Normally this line alone would cause people to sigh and mutter to themselves. Now they're just glad to finally be within shouting distance of the end.

I had never seen it like this before, at this base or any other, that I recall. I know it was an unusual weekend with a pay-day and the Superbowl following base closings and bad weather. But still.

Luckily I ran into my friend Natalee, who had also been at Erin's workshop. She was ready to check out and was heading up to grab some magazines to look through while she walked through the line. Brilliance. So she grabbed me a couple, too.

Natalee had done a better job than I had that day of comparing the latest Kroger flyer to the commissary prices; I'd had every intention of going that road until I saw how thick the traffic was and decided to simply focus on navigating. She and I had both agreed earlier that we just couldn't handle the logistics of store hopping always looking for the best deal. But we both were reluctant to completely switch stores, too, in hopes that playing The Game would save us more than shopping the commissary's regular prices.

Before heading for the line, she pointed at the Kroger flyer in frustration. She'd had her eye on their special that week for pork chops, but she'd made a point to compare the price and had discovered that the commissary's regular price for the same item was still cheaper. "That's why I'm just sticking with the commissary!" She'd finally made up her mind.

I must say that I'm not exactly in a rush to go to The Other Side myself. It's taken me this long to get my mojo down with the commissary here; by the time I got it down with another store it'd probably be time to move again. I figure I just need to fine tune the commissary sales with my coupons and meal planning and I'll be good to go.

What about you guys? You fellow military peeps out there? Do you all make a point of shopping the commissary? Or do you just go to the closest store and shop their sales? Buy generic? Double-coupon it? (Do you care?)

I am hoping to get Erin to the commissary some day very soon. That woman carries a calculator around in her head. I figure she'll be able to cruise the aisles with me and give me the low-down, with much less effort than my trying to figure it out all on my own. As you can imagine, synching our weekday schedules is difficult, but I'll try to give you an update once it happens.

**If you've read this far, and you live in Texas (or southern Oklahoma) you might be interested in going to Erin's workshop in Dallas that she's holding next weekend. Go to her site for more information, or go to register here. There is a $5 fee for this workshop.

A birthday for my daughter.

2009-02-07T22:37:00.004-05:00

Dear Olivia,
You just turned six years old this week. You bring us so much joy it's hard to imagine a time when you weren't a part of our lives. Your zest for life, your exuberance and enthusiasm for absolutely everything -- it's endearing, relentless, and contagious.

Two days ago, the day of your birthday, you got off the school bus and scampered up to the house through the snow, wearing a birthday crown and so excited about your day. "Do you have a surprise party waiting for me!?" Well, I have no idea where that idea came from. But then, I have no idea where most of your ideas come from. And I couldn't help but feel a pang of regret that I didn't, actually, have a houseful of people hiding inside just waiting to jump out and yell, "Surprise!" If anyone would appreciate such a show of celebration, it would be you.

I have often felt like the exact opposite kind of mom who would serve you best, so out of touch I am with all things hostess and crafty; and this creative, ebullient spirit you possess that often takes me so aback. You are the girl, after all, who impulsively declares at least once a week, "We're going to have a party!" whether it's for your little brother, or your daddy, or your favorite stuffed animal of the week. You busy yourself with making decorations and party hats, then parade around the house, "It's ready! It's time for the party!"

Our walls are covered with your drawings. John calls it Art Spam. It is everywhere, and it is constant. No room is sacred. Your only backstop is my not buying you a limitless supply of scotch tape. You go through about half a tree of printer paper every week, it seems. I do throw so much away, but it is relentless. And so much of it is for me, for your daddy, for your unappreciative brother ... what gets me are the ones saying, "I love you, mommy." With those I definitely cannot part, and they are stacked away in my nightstand. I do recognize that this, too, shall pass. Perhaps one day I will cull through them, but not now.

You possess an innate ability to express your feelings that never ceases to amaze me. It's amusing, and humbling. Your intuition is so finely tuned I have to remind myself that things don't slide by you easily as they always seemed to with your older brother. Your innocent and heartfelt, "That's okay, mom -- I know you're tired," catching me off-guard on more than one occasion at a vulnerable moment.

You lost your first tooth and couldn't believe your grand luck that the Tooth Fairy was going to come to your room! You were so excited to find the quarter under your pillow that I was near speechless when you immediately offered it to me. "Here, mom. You need this more than I do." It was so sincere that I couldn't turn it away.

You lost your second tooth a few weeks later. That quarter, you kept.

You are a total daddy's girl. You have him wrapped around your little finger and have totally played him more than once. Most nights since your little brother was born (unless daddy's away) the two of you snuggle up with your books, you now reading to him more often than not. You've always laughed at his silliness, even when he's being ornery and you can't really understand the humor. Like when he reads Laura Numeroff's "If You Give a Pig a Pancake," and your daddy makes up the next line to read, "He'll ask for some sausage to go with it. The End." Then promptly closes the book.

Or when he calls Dr. Seuss the Windbag and reads "Green Eggs and Ham" with its ad nauseam repetition. Instead of reading the old geezer character's entire response to Sam's, "Would you like them with a .... ?" John improvises with a simple, "No." Then turns to skip over an entire page while you giggle and exclaim, "Come on, daddy!"

Lately your little brother has developed a daddy kick of his own, after four years of being completely content with mom. This has led him to demand at bedtime, "No, I want daddy to read to me!" I act all hurt and pretend to suffer emotional distress that no one wants mommy and doesn't anyone want me to lie down with them anymore?

Sean-Peter expresses no remorse and carries on with his demands. You always come through to console me, often leaning against me or laying a soft arm on my shoulder, "I'll lie down with you, mommy." Like, don't worry. I get that you may be acting silly, but a part of you really does feel left out, so I'll make the sacrifice.

Your big brother still likes to repeat the phrase you coined, "You're breaking my heart into a million pieces!" He's even had his friends using it in that goofy, self-amusing, dorky way that middle schoolers have. It's one of those expressions that we will always remember and associate with a precocious little preschooler, running to her room with tears in her eyes, while we struggle (alas, often unsuccessfully) to hold in our laughter and take a little girl's very real feelings seriously.

The other day you casually remarked, totally out of the blue, as you are wont to do, "You love all of your children! And someday I will have children, and you will love them, too! Because that's how love works. It just grows and grows."

Aw, you are so right, Olivia.

Then, "...but you will still love me the most."

That's my girl.

It seems like yesterday you just turned five.And now you're six.I don't know if you'll always love to wear your dresses, and want me to braid your hair while it's wet so it'll be curly in the morning, or if you'll still try to sneak around wearing makeup. But I can't wait to find out.

*********
My sister and her youngest son put together the cutest video ever wishing Olivia a happy birthday. It's very short -- go check it out.

Until we meet again, Uncle John. You will be missed.

2009-02-01T23:09:00.003-05:00

My Uncle John died last night. He was 79 years old and lived a full, wonderful life.

He and my Aunt Naomi got married when they were both 18 years old. That's right, they were married for 61 years. That's a lifetime for some people.

My Aunt Naomi was 13 years old when my dad was born, a surprise baby that wasn't supposed to be possible. So my dad was just five when John became his brother-in-law. I don't think there's a time in his life that my dad can remember when John wasn't a part of it. I imagine John's role in his life morphed from that of a big brother/uncle figure, to brother, to something akin to friend and brother all rolled into one.

And they did see each other regularly over the years, despite their age differences and the busyness of raising families and the years they lived in different states: my aunt and uncle moving from Nebraska to Colorado; my parents moving from Nebraska to Colorado, with a brief stop in Indiana before finally settling in Kansas.

Aunt Naomi and Uncle John raised four children, now grown of course, and all with grown children of their own. By the time my dad met my mom and they got around to the business of making a family of their own, the oldest of Aunt Naomi and Uncle John's kids were becoming adults: their oldest granddaughter and I were actually born two months apart -- she the elder, as I remember her bossily reminding me whenever we'd argue about who should get their way when we would play during our annual get togethers. Being the youngest of three sisters, though, I was accustomed to such domineering tactics and had mastered the art of either acquiescing or knowing how to tattle when I didn't feel like giving in.

I have vague memories of visiting my Aunt and Uncle in their home in Denver when I was a very young child. While the outline of their home there is rather fuzzy, the image of the cliff divers inside the Casa Bonita Mexican restaurant we visited as a treat is quite distinct.

Their dream was to build a home in the mountains, which they finished sometime during my grade school years. My memory is completely fuzzy on this detail. I seem to recall that they did much of the work themselves, putting their heart and soul and sweated brow into what must have been the culmination of years of dreaming and planning. I am certain that I did not understand or appreciate the significance of any of this at the time.

And this home in the mountains was incredible. I wish I had a photo to post for you, but picture a narrow road disappearing up a mountain in the Rockies, winding its way around for a few miles, and just when you think you really shouldn't have had that second helping at breakfast you finally crest a hill and rather abruptly arrive at the driveway to a beautiful A-frame home nestled on a slope with a wrap-around porch overlooking the river below.

The sound of that river rushing acted as a constant backdrop to their mountain home, much the same way beach dwellers experience the constant roar of the ocean. When the rains fell and the snows melted the river would swell and rage with such ferocity I remember the adults shutting all the windows and doors so they could hear each other well enough to carry on a conversation.

But mostly I don't remember spending a whole lot of time inside at all. We usually visited for about a week or 10 days in the summertime when school was out and our working parents were ready for a vacation -- this was America, after all, the most developed Western country with the least amount of leisure time. Mom and Dad would hang out with Aunt Naomi, and Uncle John if he wasn't working, often on the porch, reading and soaking in the sun. My mother every year would get a sunburn and exclaim, "Oh, I always forget how much stronger the sun is up this high, the air is so dry and cool compared to the heat and humidity in Kansas!" And I would wonder for the umpteenth time why they had ever left Colorado.

We kids became quite familiar with that mountain, left to our own devices to wander freely, coming back when we got hungry. There was an island in the river that you could get to by crawling over a log, often slick from the splashing current. So daring to traverse, but the island was always crawling with ants which dimmed the adventure and we didn't visit it often.

In the other direction was a fairly sturdy bridge where you could cross the river with much less bravado. I loved crossing that bridge, feeling my weight bounce the general ricketiness a homemade bridge affords. But my cousin hated it and always had to be coaxed. She had fallen in that river once and had been swept away, before the bridge was built and there were only logs to get you across. She was very young at the time and the memory left an indelible print on her brain, understandably so. But at the time I always thought she was being overly dramatic.

After crossing the river we would head up the mountain on the other side. If you went far enough you would get to an old mining railroad track. Farther still and you would come to an old abandoned mining shack. At least I think that's what these things were. I seem to recall one time disturbing an old bum there, a homeless man probably, just looking for a roof to rest his head under.

In the very early days I remember pausing to drink straight from a mountain stream. But by the time I was in high school we were warned that may no longer be safe, so we were left with what water we carried with us, which was often none, forcing us to cut our expedition short. Mostly we just stayed close on that mountain, though. There was plenty to do and explore.

Uncle John usually tried to take time off work during these visits, but he did continue to work in Denver even during those years living up in the mountains, commuting at least an hour each way. He did shift work, for an auto plant, sometimes leaving the house basically in the middle of the night. Very rarely did he ever miss a day of work, even for the weather. He always shoveled to get his car out and make it down that mountain. On the rare occasion he did miss a day they never doubted him when he called in: If John said he was snowed in then he must good and stuck.

Uncle John also chopped all the wood they needed to heat their home, which in the Colorado Rockies can be a lot, as you can imagine. He is still one of the hardest workers I have ever known.

After many, wonderful years in their mountain home my Uncle John was told by his employer that they needed to transfer him to Kansas City. He was not ready to retire and so they had to make the decision to leave their home they had worked so hard to build. At the time I heard about this I was aghast. How could they leave? Was there any way they could keep it? But my dad told me that they had come to terms with it, that John wasn't getting any younger and it was hard, back-breaking work to keep the house warm all winter and it was probably just as well. I didn't really understand this at all at the time, but I do now. It was simply time.

As they were preparing to move, my Aunt Naomi was diagnosed with breast cancer. Leaving her home, leaving her doctors -- it all seemed like so much. But they ended up loving their home in Kansas City, living near the conveniences of a city living and especially the medical care that she needed.

Aunt Naomi conquered her cancer, but she continues to cope with complications that remain with her even today. At one point I remember learning that she had taken a bad turn and she had to be admitted to the hospital. About this same time, John had hurt himself in his workshop, cutting off the tip of this finger. And their beloved dog died.

Aunt Naomi gave everyone a good scare but did recover, and Uncle John, ever positive, joked that his life was a country song, "I lost my finger, and my dog, and almost lost my wife!"*

Moving forward several years, they eventually moved back to Denver, to be near their children, selling their home and leaving the responsibility of home ownership. For years they had loved to travel with their camper trailer, visiting friends and family and just seeing the country, but eventually even this tapered off.

The last time we were able to see them was two years ago last summer, they came to Kansas to visit the same time we were visiting from Italy. Our first trip to the States in two years. Uncle John wasn't feeling too well then -- turned out he had acquired whooping cough, not an easy malady for a man in his 70s to endure. (I should know: my daughter came down with the same thing.) It was a usual, busy time with family -- kids everywhere, gatherings with lots of people talking at the same time. Aunt Naomi and Uncle John were a comfortable presence, something you don't want to take for granted, but nevertheless you do.

My John -- my husband, John -- was supposed to go on a TDY to Colorado Springs a couple of months ago. He was planning on making a trip up to Denver one weekend, to visit Aunt Naomi and Uncle John, at least to pop in and say hello, chat about the kids and life and who cares what. His TDY was canceled at the last minute, and even though it was him and not me -- and not all of us -- I feel regret. Like we missed out on an opportunity.

The memorial service for my uncle is this Saturday, in Denver. That is the same day of my Great Aunt Tiny's 100th Birthday Celebration in San Diego that my parents have been planning to attend for months. What would you do? As it is, my dad thinks they are keeping their plans, and will go to see Aunt Naomi soon after. It is still so soon, and yes, even though he had not been well -- he was 79, and his heart was weakening -- it was still a bit unexpected. You tell yourself you know it will happen someday, but...

My Aunt Naomi is surrounded by her children now, and soon more family will gather. It is as it should be. I really can't imagine her life without Uncle John, but I can imagine them together again one day. He is in heaven right now, and Aunt Naomi knows she will be there one day, too. And that is what matters and is I'm sure what she is holding onto right now.

*I am paraphrasing here, but maybe if someone in the family is reading this and remembers a different version, they can share it below.

The Calm After the Storm

2009-01-29T19:35:00.004-05:00

And then the storm stopped...

First footprints
Shoveling supervisor
Snow Angel
Icicle Cane
Practicing Her Own Preaching
Rosy Cheeks and Red Mittens
Van Ice
All Tuckered Out

Forecast is calling for more snow, and flurries, and snow, and rain, then snow... Many schools were canceled here again, though my kids just had a delay. It's rather impressive how bad the roads still are. But then again, we still have our power, unlike thousands to the East, to the South ... so I am not complaining.

The Happy Housewife Guest Post

2009-01-29T12:18:00.005-05:00

I wrote a guest post over at "The Happy Housewife" (she's on my sidebar), "How Does Your Husband Help While He's Away?" Go on over and take a look -- and leave a comment, too, if you don't mind, so's I don't feel like a schmuck and she's sorry she posted it.

Plus, I'm sure some of you have lots to say on the subject, and I really would like to hear some more ideas on the issue. We've got a TDY coming up in about a month, and it will have been almost nine months since John's last one -- that's like, 10 years in military time.

And if you're not reading Happy Housewife, you should. She's a military spouse who home schools her (six going on seven) children; she posts great, frugal recipes; and she writes about managing and organizing her home, which just warms my little HGTv heart, I tell you what.

No school for the kids...again.

2009-01-28T09:51:00.001-05:00

Every time I look out I swear it's snowing harder. I guess it's in a hurry to cover up all the ice, since it rained during the night. Even Sean-Peter's private therapy is closed today. Even the base is closed today. Now that's saying something.

A few seconds of snowfall, for your viewing pleasure. (You know, just in case you're somewhere like, oh, I don't know ... Texas.)

And these kids aren't going anywhere. I'm just saying. And since I started this whole process of (an unsuccessful attempt of) editing videos and downloading? It is snowing harder, and the flakes are considerable smaller, hopefully not threatening to turn to ice...

But you'll just have to take my word for it: I have run out of time and my children have run out of patience, what with all the fiddling around I've been doing, trying to combine the clips above into one, obviously unsuccessfully. I promise you I followed the instructions exactly as they were written, in the Windows Movie Maker program that was, indeed, right here on our computer. Any techie suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

I made a healthy meal for $2.25. And the whole family ate it.

2009-01-26T22:09:00.002-05:00

My friend Erin started a website last summer to help herself prepare frugal dinners for her family -- she used the blog to motivate herself and to hold herself accountable. A math teacher by trade, she enjoyed talking with her husband at dinnertime and breaking down the cost of what they were eating. (I could so totally relate. Um, not.)

What she didn't count on was how quickly her site would attract readers and take off into the blogosphere like a rocket ship. I've lost count of how many interviews she's given, how many times she's been featured on the local news station... My mother-in-law lives in San Antonio, Erin's hometown, and she recently saw a feature mentioning her blog. "Hey," she wrote to me, "Is $5Dinners your friend's blog you've talked about?" (Why yes, it is, Becky -- did I ever get around to emailing you back to tell you that?)

I am not a math teacher by trade. I could no sooner break down how much a dinner cost off the top of my head than I could stand up and sweep the tablecloth off the table without crashing all the dishes to the floor. But you know how they say be careful about the company you keep ... they might rub off on you and all that. The other day I found myself exclaiming to Erin what a cheap and delicious meal I had prepared for my family and how everyone loved it!

I'd say that I'm not sure what's more exciting about that statement -- the cheapness or everyone loving it -- except that I really don't concern myself too much with everybody in my family liking what I make: I figure I've done my job just by putting it in front of them on the table. "You can lead a horse to water," and all that.

But it really is a bonus when everyone likes what you made and asks for more and it totally helps the budget. Especially in these trying times and all. (Anyone want to rent a cute little house in Vegas?) Because, honestly? I've attempted meals that even I don't like, and that's a bummer.

The last time I made a meal using raw beans, for instance. Blech. I was turned off of this amazing cheap ingredient for ... well, for quite a while. Until recently, I decided to give them another go. Black-eyed peas, to be exact. (Are they of the bean family?)

Black Eyed Peas and Sausage over Rice

16 ounces dried black-eyed peas, rinsed and sorted
1 medium onion, diced
1 sausage link, cut into pieces
3 or more cloves of garlic (can you have too much?)
1 teaspoon seasoning salt
black pepper to taste

Presoak peas as directed. (I soaked them all night, at least 12 hours.) Drain the water from the peas and place peas in a crockpot. Add all other ingredients, plus enough water to cover. Stir well. Cover and cook on low setting 8-10 hours. Serve over rice.
Approximate cost: $4.25

I won't try to break down each individual ingredient; but I do know the beans were about $1.50 and the sausage was about $2.00 (with a coupon). But the thing is? This was two meals for four people. I won't even count Sean-Peter, who wouldn't touch a single bite the first time we had it. (We're working on that.) The second go-around he had two helpings (eating one. thing. at. a time). Everyone else ate their fill the first time -- John had two heaping plates -- and several days later again when we had it as leftovers (I did make fresh rice). And there's still some leftover that I will finish off myself in a couple of lunches.

Total cost for one meal serving four people ~ $2.25.

John has already asked for it again, but I told him, sorry, I've got some recipe using pinto beans lined up first. Stay tuned and I might let you know if that one's a hit, too.

Our Very Own Extra Terrestrial

2009-01-21T23:04:00.003-05:00

And if you don't know what this title is referencing...then, well, I just have nothing to say to you. What can I say? I'm a child of the 80s.

Um, It's Cold Here?

2009-01-16T19:48:00.001-05:00

So cold that schools were closed to ensure that no child would freeze mid-step on his way to the bus stop. Or to the school itself, such as may be the case.

Not that our young teenager would ever walk out the door without his coat on. Especially in freezing temperatures. I have never found his coat left hanging there after he's walked out the door, declaring that it's not that cold. Ahem.

But it is cold today. Even Conner would acknowledge that. The kind of cold that takes your breath away and soaks into your face within one nano second before numbing it all together. Like, windchill factor of -24 degrees cold? I had never imagined. This is Ohio, for pete's sake. Not the Arctic.

Speaking of Pete. For your viewing pleasure I am posting a video of him singing one of his preschool songs about the continents -- one of my particular favorites, being the map freak that I am. How cute is that? Three- and four-year-olds learning the names of the continents already.

He actually sings it through twice: this is a good representation of how he will self-direct and self-correct when he isn't happy with how he sounds.

The second video is our very own little snow bunny, taken a couple of days ago (before the temperatures plummeted) when we rediscovered the video feature on our point-and-shoot. Ooh, we are nothing if not on top of all things techie here. And if you don't ignore our little mutterings at the end of Olivia's cuteness, you will bear witness to our discovery that our little camera can record up to 25 minutes of video, and not the 25 seconds that we had always thought.

Yes, I am kicking myself. At the very least, I could have been keeping a much better digital video diary of Sean-Peter's speech progress. (I do have some clips of him recorded on our archaic 8mm that I will someday transfer to a DVD...)

And if anyone knows how to edit these video things? Surely there's a site online somewhere offering these services for free. We would surely appreciate you passing that information our way.

He's a poster child for early intervention, is what he is.

2009-01-11T23:55:00.004-05:00

This evening Olivia and Sean-Peter and I were looking at an "I Spy" book before bedtime, taking turns picking something we spy for the others to find. Every time it was Sean-Peter's turn, "I spy... a blue airplane!" and no matter how big or how blue that airplane, and no matter how fiery a trail his eyes (and sometimes his finger) were blazing right to it, we had to try really hard not to "spy" it right away lest we incur his wrath.

"NO! NOT YET! YOU HAVE TO WAIT!"

Pause.

Silence.

"Now...let me give you a hint..."

Even Olivia played along. And as soon as someone was permitted to spy it -- EVERY TIME -- Sean-Peter would exclaim, "Ah, you STINKER!"

*********************************************

Just a few months ago Sean-Peter's "I spy" came out "I 'py". And his "stinker" was a "'tinker". A few months before that he had maybe a dozen words that he opened his mouth for consistently, not all of them intelligible to the unfamiliar ear. A few months before that -- less than a year ago -- his speech was almost completely unintelligible. If you could even call it speech. A typical sentence went something like, "Mm-mm-mm-mm-BAP!"

My biggest complaint, which isn't really a complaint, is that no one meeting Sean-Peter for the first time believes me when I tell him them that he's apraxic. His teachers? and his therapist at the school? They're all new to him this year, which has not been a problem at all, no sirree, not so far as his progress goes. Because progress he continues to make and mucho-much of it is thanks to them, so Thank You Professionals because truly these women are angels from heaven who certainly only contribute to helping this little miracle on earth.

But apraxic? They don't believe it, not for a minute. "Children with apraxia don't progress this quickly..." is all I've heard, aside from the barely refrained laughter. I in turn refrained from pressing the point. Because really, what is the point? He's getting the help he needs, and he's responding to it beautifully. If my only complaint is that no one will believe me that he's apraxic, well ... isn't that about the best thing I could ever hope to hear?

He's a poster child for early intervention, is what he is. It's not like I made the whole apraxia thing up, after all. I heard the word at his speech assessment for the first time myself exactly one year, one month, and one week ago -- not that the date is emblazoned on my brain or anything. He had just turned three. It took almost four more months for him to be officially diagnosed at Dayton Children's Hospital by a seasoned pathologist, one who has worked with apraxic children for "a very long time" (her response when I asked her how many years they've been diagnosing and treating children with this). "A verbal apraxia (motor planning problem) is apparent." It's all there in black and white.

Within months of starting private speech therapy Sean-Peter was opening his mouth for sounds I'd never heard come out of his mouth before. I always used to say that he "swallowed" his words, but I learned from the professionals that what you heard was called hypernasality, or velopharyngeal incompetency. The pathologist who diagnosed him said that hypernasality is rather common with apraxic children, but she had never heard a case so severe. (That just sent warm fuzzies down my spine I tell you what. I just wanted to lean over and kiss her.)

I've written about Sean-Peter's private speech therapist before, calling her "The Speech Whisperer" so amazing has been her ability at every session to get him to produce new sounds. Melissa has always said that Sean-Peter is very "stimulable" -- and he is. But sitting there session after session, witnessing how much she is able to pack into 30 minutes, it is just amazing.

And being able to view the sessions to learn the techniques myself allowed me to stretch the lessons into our routine at home. I know many mothers will sit down with their wee ones for a full-on speech therapy session at home once or several times a week. But for us I found that it was easier, more natural, and very effective to incorporate the visual cues I learned from Melissa during our everyday speaking throughout the day.

Back when he used to keep his mouth closed, if Melissa had worked on getting him to emit the "ee" sound that week, for instance, every time Sean-Peter would say a word with that sound I would cue him to open his mouth by using the technique I had just learned from his speech session. I did that sound, for example, first by having him look at me while I pointed to both of my cheeks with my fingers while opening my mouth wide. Eventually I cued him by pointing to just one cheek. Then if he was close by but looking at something else I would sometimes lightly tap the side of his cheek. Eventually all he needed was a verbal reminder, "Let's say that again, buddy."

All of this progress was often done by the time we were ready to go back the next week for his next session. This is not normal, I do by now recognize. It's no wonder that a professional meeting him today cannot believe he was ever apraxic. It's a plain miracle, is what it is. He's amazing.

Not that we're done jumping hurdles, by any means. But the hurdles are much, much closer to the ground.

After Sean-Peter started school again and I told Melissa about the feedback I received from his teachers and therapist there, she almost started to question the diagnosis herself. Even before that, during the summer when I would ask her, "If you were to meet Sean-Peter for the first time today, would you still believe he was apraxic?" And she would say yes ... but then always qualify it by saying apraxic children don't usually progress so quickly.

By last August, Sean-Peter was speaking so well and was rarely, if ever, reverting to speaking with that hypernasal way of his that used to be so familiar. But the pacing of his speech, his prosody, was very effortful and choppy; his speaking lacked fluidity -- it still does. And one thing he had never been able to do was sing.

I'm not talking about singing like he couldn't carry a tune and his voice would make a dog cry or anything like that. He's always been able to hum (which doesn't require opening your mouth) as the day is long. I'm talking about singing the lyrics, the words, to a song he might hear from his sister 50 times a day. Like the "ABC" song or "Old McDonald". The kid can carry a tune, I'll warrant that. But he couldn't spit the words out in time to a rhythm to save his life. In fact, I couldn't even get him to try. Cue professionals.

So Melissa decided to work on a song, starting with "Old McDonald". This was in August. It became clear rather quickly that this was extremely difficult for him. It was the most frustrated I'd ever seen him with her and the first time he was drawn to tears. She simply worked with him to say, "Ee-i-ee-i" without breaking between the two sounds. He tried over and over again, with the same result. "Ee. i. ee. i." Oh, it was painful.

And now? Well! Did I ever mention that his preschool teacher used to train as an opera singer? (For real!) Her teaching incorporates sooooo many songs throughout their class time I would be very hard-pressed to try to remember them all. It has been invaluable and came at the absolute most perfect time for him. And yes, he is singing. My heart just jumps when I overhear him mindlessly singing a tune, albeit a bit choppy, whether it's one from his class or one he hears a million times from his musical sister. He'll even get goofy and make up his own lyrics like his brother and sister are wont to do. And to think, a mere five months ago the struggle to link together "Ee-i-ee-i" brought him to tears.

Shortly before the holidays, Melissa invited another speech therapist in to observe the last five minutes of his speech session. She basically just asked Sean-Peter a question to get him talking. She wanted the other pathologist's opinion and purposefully hadn't given her any of his background information.

This time was so short, but it provided me with so much information that will help me to continue to help my son. After maybe two minutes, tops, of listening to him prattle on about something that his dad had done (he totally ratted him out on something and it was so funny, but darned if I can remember what it was now) the other pathologist remarked that in addition to some articulation errors (a very common developmental delay) she thought it seemed like he was having to almost search for the next word he wanted to say. But it wasn't -- this was key -- like he didn't know what he wanted to say; rather, he was groping for the right way to say the word, for the proper sequencing, as they call it. In other words, he appeared to be struggling to just spit it out.

This is telling, because for someone who isn't a professional speech pathologist or who isn't intimately familiar with my son, it might be very easy to think that he is having a language issue rather than a motor planning problem. In other words, they might think he's having trouble understanding the question rather than just having to work harder at voicing the answer.

I think about when it comes time for him to start kindergarten, these are the kinds of things that I will need to be aware of for helping him transition into a classroom with a new teacher who will have a room full of kids and not the time necessary to figure stuff out like this on her own. Or at least not right away. This is the kind of information that will help her to understand a child like mine, who may still have lingering effects of this apraxia as it effects his speech and his ability to just spit it out. Once upon a time I wasn't even sure if he would be able to attend kindergarten, so uncertain was his future in mainstream education. Now his progress seems endless and our options wide open. Label it what you want, I know a miracle when I see one.

Apparently my hiatus from home improvement is complete.

2009-01-10T21:50:00.001-05:00

Too bad John's office isn't. Here's a snatch of the wall after one hour of removing wallpaper border.Here's a very poor photo showing the opposite side of what was left.What you can't discern from this view is the jog to the left the wall takes. Just when you thought no more wall border could fit in such a narrow space.

Toward the end of the afternoon John came in and exclaimed, "Wow! You're already down to the end of that wall?"
And I'm all like, yea, already. A mere three hours later already. My how time flies WHEN YOU'RE NOT REMOVING WALLPAPER BORDER.

Then I chewed up his head I had just bit off and spit it out.

Not really. That would have made even more of a mess.

A friend told me recently that her husband read an article saying that if a housewife were paid for what she did she it would be the equivalent of about $25,000 a year.

I just laughed, "At least!" I think they forgot the weekend overtime on that one.

Stay tuned for an "After" photo. It might be awhile on this one.

Glamour Girl Goes to School

2009-01-05T23:10:00.001-05:00

"It's just me and you, mommy," Sean-Peter said after school, waiting for Olivia's bus to bring her home. Then, "Now it's just me, and you, and Olivia, and we're waiting for Conner!" Sean-Peter has a distinct choppiness about his speech, if you can imagine a deliberate pause between every other word or so.

It was a shock to the system, everyone going back to school and work and real life after so many days hanging out with no real agenda. We were all ready, truth be told -- Olivia sprinted to her bus this morning. Sean-Peter's comments just reminded me that this little boy doesn't always adjust so quickly to changes and voicing a play-by-play was helping him adapt to our new (old) schedule.

I must admit that, as Perry Como croons, "Mom and dad could hardly wait for school to start again." And the last thing I really felt like doing was fulfilling my commitment to volunteer at the kids' school today. I really just wanted to sit at home and stare into space...

But alas, duty calls, and a good thing it did. Because after I finished my time in Sean-Peter's class I caught one certain little girl in the hallway walking past her classroom door with her little friend (let's call her Rita) with her little satchel thrown over her shoulder -- and yes, she was wearing her sparkly new dress. Only that wasn't all!

You see, Olivia wanted nothing more for Christmas than some makeup and a vanity where she could sit and look at herself and preen. Never in a million years would my five-year-old self have wanted some makeup, let alone known what to do with it if I got it. But Olivia is a girly-girl if there ever was one so makeup she got and preen she did. With strict instructions that this was for play and dress-up only at home and not for anywhere else, even for fun.

But she couldn't resist taking some to show Rita, her friend on the bus she looks up to in all her mature first-grade worldliness. When I work at the school Olivia always chooses to take the bus instead of going home with me, "Because I don't want to miss Rita." Whether the two met later that day by happenstance in the girl's restroom I don't know. What I do know is that Olivia and Rita were walking down the hallway side-by-side chatting like a couple of high schoolers, and Olivia had on dark pink lipstick bigger than life.

When I called her name she turned and ran to me for a hug so excited to see me as usual. When I called her on the lipstick she immediately acted sheepish: she knew she was caught. Of course she knew I was going to be at her school today: she may be sneaky, but at least she's (not yet) savvy.

I escorted Olivia into her classroom where her teacher had noticed her straying. "Got a little distracted coming back from the restroom, did we Olivia?" Ooh-wee. I'm afraid we may be in for it with this little one. Lipstick in kindergarten ... what's it going to be in fourth grade? A little black book?

"A Flock of Seagulls"

2009-01-04T21:21:00.002-05:00

Does anyone else have any idea what this title is a reference to?

"purple spaceship" *

2009-01-03T21:36:00.006-05:00

Earlier today we heard that tale-tell "Koosh!" We turned the corner and found this.Ah, those Christmas tree ornaments are hard to resist. The culprit? Olivia or Sean-Peter you might imagine -- partners in crime would be a better bet. But no, they were nowhere near the scene. Instead, we found this critter, trying to act all casual.

Little stinker. I think he's telling me it's time to take down the Christmas decorations.

*Title compliments of Conner. He's nothing if not random, to borrow 7th-grade speak.

I seem to be confusing New Year's with Spring.

2009-01-02T18:54:00.015-05:00

The Vietnam Veterans of America organization cold-called last week to ask if we had anything we might like to set out for donation right before the New Year. I eyed the bag of clothes meant for the thrift store that'd been sitting by the front door for over a month and told them yes, we'd have at least a little something. They sounded grateful. I gather these calls don't usually end so successfully, if they even start in the first place. We are, after all, like the only people in this country who don't have caller ID.

The day before the pick-up they called to remind me and verify our address. That was just the motivation I needed to gather more stuff. I started with the storeroom under the stairs where I'd been collecting items meant for the thrift store. Items which, in all honestly, would probably wither and die before ever finding new friends through consignment; the thrift store's schedule simply doesn't jive with my life and I'm finding weeks turning into months before I make it there with another load.

Besides, truth be told, all that money I've made consigning? I just tallied it: in the past year I've commissioned $473.68. And it's probably all gone right back into the thrift store. Much of it on needed items, yes -- shoes and clothes for the kids, for instance. But much of it? Meh, not so much. Just impulse buys that were such a bargain. It's one thing to get Sean-Peter some snow boots when he's outgrown his old ones. It's another to get him a cute shirt because it's such a bargain at $2.75, when he's already got a drawer full of cute shirts that were such a bargain. That's a weakness of mine, one I am going to work on this next year. A resolution, perhaps?

Repeat after me:

"Just because it's a bargain doesn't mean you can afford it."
"Just because it's a bargain doesn't mean you need it."

Even when it's for my kids. Especially when it's for my kids.

Let's all stamp that on our debit cards, shall we?

I gathered a decent pile rather quickly, but this was just the beginning. I decided to tackle a daunting, neglected task: my room.
You can't really tell from this photo but that pile is double deep. You might notice the tag still on at least one of the items. The bag is a backpack I bought in Sausalito some 15 years ago. I still love it, but it's frayed at the ends and I probably haven't used since three moves ago. One of the sweaters is from high school. More than a few shirts I've had since college, over fifteen years ago now. Another sweater has a tag from Montgomery Ward. Did you know Montgomery Ward's going out of business after 99 years? I hadn't realized they were still in business.

And no, those are not my dinosaur footy pajamas. The little ones' outgrown clothes often camp out in my space while they wait for me to find them a new home.

I've been carrying around so many things mindlessly, move to move, place to place, pregnancy after pregnancy... I always lost the weight after each baby, effortlessly, by breathing, it seemed. But in the last two years I've gained almost ten pounds that seem to be here to stay, and I don't mind, actually; I always wished I could gain weight but I'm one of those people who never could, until now. Comes with age, I suppose. I only wish it would redistribute itself a bit (why couldn't it all go to my boobs?) but that's another topic.

So I aimed a critical eye at everything I owned, figuring out what no longer fits and being honest with myself that it never will again. And fessing up about the things I simply don't wear even though they're perfectly good clothes. If I said to myself, "I might have a use for that someday," I got rid of it.

Then I moved to the linen closet. That most wondrous of American inventions and something I so took for granted when we moved here that I just threw things in there willy-nilly. And there those things have sat for almost a year-and-a-half.John was concerned when he saw this pile. "What about towels for when we have guests?" I told him to go look, just go look, at what is still in the linen closet and then try to explain to me exactly why do we still have so many towels? Why? Why? And where on earth have I been keeping them when we didn't even have a linen closet? I think that's what happened: they were stuffed somewhere so elusive they survived by evasion.

And three solitary fitted sheets. What happened to the matching flat sheets? And how long have I been carrying around half a twin? Another mystery for the ages, like the socks that disappear in the dryer, things just up and walk away (sometimes with a little help) with every move. The only question is, how many moves ago.Pillowcases. All of them. No, we don't own this many pillows. Yes, everyone already has pillows on their beds with pillowcases on them. I really can't explain this. Does anyone else have a problem with abundance?The final pile, gathered in one day. There's more back by the cat that's not quite visible. Although the cat's a keeper. Even though he still tries to sneak out the door every chance he gets. Look at him there, just waiting. Like he knows all this stuff has to go outside. Stinker.

I didn't stop once they carted this stuff away. I tackled the entry way closet next, Sean-Peter's closet ... wonderful inventions, these closets. Very dangerous. And we've never had so many before. About the time I get around to utilizing them effectively it'll be time to move again.

And I went to Goodwill today, to take back some jeans that didn't fit Olivia. She does need jeans. Just one more good pair will help get her through the winter, but I got her two. Oh, and a dress.

Which she didn't need.
But this is one little girl who loves her dresses. The sparklier the better. And for $2.19? Come on.
This is why I don't make New Year's Resolutions. I already fell off the wagon.

"to SANtu Klos I BIEV iN YOU"

2008-12-24T23:38:00.001-05:00

I can hardly stand the cuteness.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Randomness and Creator of Many Creations

2008-12-23T16:33:00.000-05:00

I am desperately seeking some motivation to write my annual Christmas email letter, to no avail. Instead I am finding myself distracted by completely random things like this government web site that offers cultural awareness assessments in areas of current, ahem, interest. I couldn't resist taking one of the arabic ones; and apparently, 14 years since my time at DLI really is too long. Go figure.

I really have been neglecting my Google reader for awhile, meaning I'm way behind on blogs I like to follow. So what better way to procrastinate? I swiped this you tube from "Et tu?" (see my sidebar) and I got such a kick out of thinking of my dear friend Ruth (Ruth, oh Ruth? Wherefore art thou Ruth?) who has five kids, wondering how many times she has heard each and every one of these comments.

Speaking of blessings, we finally got down to Cincinnati yesterday to the Creation museum, which focuses on Genesis and the scientific support behind God creating the world in six days some 6,000 years ago as opposed to some molecules randomly converging and evolving over millions of years. I have been wanting to get down there ever since my sister told me some eight months about this creation (ha-ha, pun intended) of Ken Hamm's which is strategically located in an area of the United States that makes it accessible by drive from the majority of the 48 States.

I knew we were taking a chance going with the little ones, but I figured at the very least we would just view the free live nativity scene and walk the grounds, which include a petting zoo. However. What with sub-freezing temperatures these activities were either canceled or moved inside, which was okay with us because we had already decided to go ahead and give the museum a try, kids or no, a decision made much easier with the incredible admission rates offered to military which got our family of five into the museum for just $24.32. (Although Sean-Peter would have been free regardless because of his age.)

And doing it over I would not take small children, unless you are okay with going through at a pace that small children require as opposed to taking your time to read and listen and view and soak it all in. And there's a lot to soak. Anyone who thinks that believing in the bible requires leaving your intellect at the door should take up the challenge this museum helps display to readily disprove that notion.

From what I was able to pause and view I could tell that I was fortunate to have already studied many of these truths through Faith Bible Institute courses I took at our church in Italy. If you haven't had an opportunity to take any of these courses, or haven't even heard of them, I would urge you to look into the curriculum and the possibility of your church offering the class, which is available on DVD. It's extremely in-depth, but accessible to the average layman. Or, you know, laywoman. No need to discriminate here.

So I am definitely encouraging John and Conner to return, sans kiddos. Not that I wouldn't want to go back myself; it's just not as high a priority. But for Conner it really is a prime age to benefit from this knowledge all laid out in a way that shows how commonsensical biblical truth is in much the same way that public schools (and books, and tv shows, even cartoons...) make evolution out to be a done deal. Since taking FBI (yes, go ahead and laugh; that's how they refer to it) I haven't been able to look at children's books the same, what with talking about dinosaurs living before people millions and millions of years ago, like it's an historical fact and not a scientific theory.

And speaking of dinosaurs, that is the big draw of the museum for the wee ones. In fact, Olivia is already asking when we can go back to the "Dinosaur Museum", as children readily refer to it: I'm not trying to say it's not appropriate and beneficial to small children; it's just that adults will personally benefit more without their distraction. Olivia and Sean-Peter did enjoy the dinosaur displays and the Flood Room (my name) in particular, with its video and sound effects and dioramas of the ark. And both of them really got into the over-sized industrial-strength puzzle of the ark, while Conner and I devoured the touch-screen computer puzzles of the ark in varying difficulty.

My only complaint about the museum is I wish they had recommended ages posted for their various videos. "The Last Adam" in particular I would not have taken in my four- and five-year-old. I felt it was too intense for both of them, and not at all engaging for a four-year-old who probably needed a nap. He wasn't being noisy, but he couldn't sit still and I know he was distracting to the couple near us; however, opening the door to leave would have distracted the entire small auditorium by bringing in the light.

And now since I have started this post I have heard back from my friend Ruth, who got my email about the you tube video above, and confirmed that she indeed has heard all of these comments in some shape or form. So tell me, honestly, are you a guilty member of the commenting party? heh-heh. I admit I do wonder how a mom of five, six, seven -- or more-- does it, and I am sure I am guilty of gawking from time to time. And I hope they will take this as an apology on all of our behalfs that it's not that we don't think it's worth it. We just don't know how they do it. And I have nothing but admiration for those who do.

And I say this as a mother of only three banshees who as I type are pummelling each other with empty wrapping paper tubes in the next room yet still the din is deafening. Sometimes I find myself gawking at a mother of multiple children because they're all so calm. That's the part I don't understand.

No Guessing What He's Hoping Santa Will Bring

2008-12-22T23:56:00.003-05:00

He calls this his "Thomas Map". I keep extras in my purse and in the car. He'll pour through it like some people (not me) might devour a new cookbook, dreaming and scheming.

Were that they stayed so easy to please.

A Little Twisted Holiday Humor

2008-12-21T21:32:00.000-05:00