craftycassie

You Asked, I Answer, Part One

2008-05-07T21:35:00.005-05:00

Thanks to the whopping FOUR! people who actually asked a question when I posted this entry. Dang, I really need to up my readership. Or get better friends.

At any rate, here are the questions:

Dana asked: What do you hold as the greatest achievement thus far in your life?

I think my greatest accomplishment is marrying Kevin and sticking with it. (Actually, that's probably his greatest accomplishment because I am NOT an easy person to live with.) My parents had an unhappy marriage, and I didn't ever have great role models in terms of healthy family relationships. I also have a ton of independence issues and have always struggled with the concept of submission in action. I think that's one of the most misconstrued portions of the Bible and I'm just now starting to get it after 12+ years of marriage. It's a process and I'm still learning how to love and receive love.

Then fortyb4forty delurked and asked which I like better, plain or peanut M&Ms?

Peanut, hands down. Some of my friends adore peanut butter M&Ms, and those just make me want to gag. Plain M&Ms are great for baking cookies, but not so much for eating out-of-hand. I recently tried both the Almond M&Ms and the Dark Chocolate M&Ms. Both were OK, but nothing I'll buy twice.

When I was pregnant with Caelyn I ate pounds and pounds of Peanut M&Ms. She's turning 7 next week and I'm still trying to work off those calories.

I'm tired so I'll save the latter two questions for later (sorry Stephanie!). And if you still want to throw a question at me, please do. I love knowing that people actually read this stuff.

Looking for Me?

2008-06-20T16:19:00.005-05:00

Hey y'all, I'm over here now. I've been wanting a newly designed blog for some time now, and this is where the crazy is.

This blog will still be active, but I'm going to limit it to, you know, crafts and stuff. The wild and wacky stuff will be over here.

You Asked, I Answer, Part Two

2008-06-17T15:12:00.002-05:00

A while back I volunteered to answer any question asked of me. I've officially run out of material so I'm returning to the questions...

Dear friend Stephanie asked, "So Chels...what would you love to see going on in your family and your life 10 years from now?"

What would I love to see going on in 10 years? The simple answer is that I want us to all be healthy and happy, a strong family unit whose love for Christ and each other is evident to everyone we meet.

That's the easy answer, but since this is my fantasy...

Kevin and I will be planning our 25th anniversary trip to Italy in 2019. We're going to explore Rome where I can translate all the Latin sayings for my uncultured but interested husband. We'll rent a car and drive to Tuscany and Florence and maybe Venice, although I've heard that city is overrated. We'll stop by the town of Caivano outside Naples and take a couple pictures of the signs as a memoir of his family's heritage. He'll present me with a fabulous pair of diamond earrings at some point during the trip.

I'd love to see Kendra heading off to college on a full scholarship, either for academics or softball. (She'd prefer softball, I'm sure.) Currently I think Baylor is a good choice, but we'll entertain offers from other Texas schools with solid reputations, strong Christian organizations, and a small-enough environment that Kendra won't feel overwhelmed or lost.

I'd love for Caelyn to be happily getting ready for her senior year at SACS. She'll have a gaggle of boys interested in her, I'm sure, but she'll prefer to hang out with her family and a sweet group of girlfriends. And by that time she'll be proficient enough in the kitchen that she'll be volunteering to cook dinner at least once a week. At this point she'll be debating whether to attend a four-year college or culinary school. She'll also go on a missionary trip this summer and I'll get to be one of the group's chaperones.

David will be getting ready to enter high school. He'll be playing junior varsity baseball or basketball. He'll still love his mommy best and will spontaneously give me hugs and "big juicies" on the cheek. He'll be handling the change from boy to man with grace and confidence.

Kevin will still be working somewhere -- either USAA or another firm -- as a tax accountant. He'll be happy and have hard-working coworkers who do their fair share of the workload and will appreciate Kevin's quiet management style.

Oh, and since this is my fantasy, I'll be all caught up on scrapbooking and will have a bookshelf full of wonderfully designed photo albums celebrating our family's highs and lows. And I'll be a size 8 with skinny ankles.

And we'll have a pool with a waterfall feature.

It's my fantasy, right?

deep thoughts with craftycassie

2008-06-12T22:48:00.003-05:00

1. Have you ever noticed that pharmaceutical companies have an unusual fondness for the letters V, X, Y, and Z? Viagra. Vioxx. Valium. Xanax. Yaz. Prozac. Vicodin. Zyrtec. Zantac. Zoloft.
Did the companies feel sorry for those lonely letters at the end of the alphabet? Do those particular letters subliminally convey trustworthiness or health? Marketing fascinates me.

2. Here's a tip: Taking three young children to lunch at Luby's without another adult to help you is an extremely bad idea. The kids were overwhelmed by the cafeteria-style ordering. They had trouble choosing what they wanted and slowed up the line. The geriatric crowd behind us was most displeased with my family, especially when my kids realized they forgot to get their Jello cups and I had to go back in line, grab three overflowing cups of cherry Jello, inevitably spill a little on the floor, and then fight my way back to the front of the line to help my kids with their trays. A very kind employee helped me carry the kids' trays to the table, where I then realized that I HAD FORGOTTEN TO GET MYSELF ANY FOOD. I went back and grabbed a salad with a side of Valium.

3. I had a mystery shop today at a certain coffee chain that I don't particularly enjoy because they overroast their beans and their ridiculously priced coffee represents everything I abhor about American consumerism. But hey, it was a job. So is it bad that I let my four- and seven-year-old drink most of my oversweetened, overcaffeinated, overpriced drink? I mean, why not feed their addictions early?

4. Lastly, does anyone out there actually own a Sleep Number bed? Do you like it? Is it worth the money? My back is killing me and I'm in the market for a new bed that will make both Kevin and me happy. Kevin likes to sleep on the floor, so he prefers a rock-hard mattress. I can't stand a mattress that sags, but I also want some cushyness to cradle my spine. I'm thinking a Sleep Number will solve many problems, but I'm concerned it's just a glorified, marked-up Aerobed.

Kids + Strep = TV

2008-06-08T09:43:00.003-05:00

A couple days ago I was going to lay down the law and keep my kids from the TV in an attempt to foster their creativity.

It was a grand idea with an even grander demise.

We spent Friday morning at the pediatrician's office confirming my suspicions that Kendra has strep throat. Here were my clues: Kendra told me multiple times that her throat was ON FIRE. And she had a fever. And she had a monster headache that wouldn't go away. And she TOOK A NAP on Thursday afternoon. I don't think that child has napped since 2001.

Kendra felt somewhat better upon hearing the diagnosis, because at least she knew her non-merciful mother was actually trying to take care of her. And she felt remarkably better after popping a few horse-sized doses of Amoxicillin.

So Mommy showed mercy by letting her watch Barbie and the 12 Dancing Princesses.

Now it's Sunday morning and Caelyn is feeling poorly, too. No fever, but she woke us up in the middle of the night and said her throat hurt. I'm debating whether I should take her to the extremely kid-friendly weekend pediatric clinic that hands out popsicles or whether I should just wait until tomorrow and try to get into our regular doctor for the strep test. I'm fairly certain Caelyn will have strep, too, considering she and Kendra shared a drink on Thursday.

Caelyn and I stayed home from church and she's lying in a pathetic heap on the couch watching Fetch with Ruff Ruffman. Apparently my TV experiment was doomed from the start. I'll try again when everyone's healthy.

Is Summer Over Yet?

2008-06-06T08:51:00.004-05:00

The kids have been home from school for a grand total of six days, not including the weekend since I kind of expect them to be around on those days anyway. Six days of non-stop chatter, attention-begging, "Mama-can-you-play-go-fish-with-me?" behavior. Your typical kid stuff.

I've also been the nice mom and let them watch more than their fair share of TV. They inaugurated the first day of vacation by watching "High School Musical 2." (Incidentally, whenever someone asks me what time it is, I automatically break out into the song from HSM2. I just can't help it.)

They've watched endless hours of Tom & Jerry, Handy Manny, Safety Patrol, and Fetch with Ruff Ruffman. OK, I've watched that show too. I love that show. It's the modern-day version of Zoom.

No more. Mean Mom is back in town and today the TV is staying off. Today they will read, darn it. Today they will be forced to interact with each other in a way that doesn't involve fighting over the Tivo remote. Today they will prance joyfully in our backyard with rainbows and hummingbirds. Wait, that last part might not happen.

At the very least, today I'm going to force them to DEAL WITH THEIR BOREDOM. I've decided not to play camp counselor and schedule every moment of their day. I'm not going to say, "Hey, let's stamp cards!" or bow down to their demands to play Mousetrap for the b'jillionth time.

Today I'm going to force them to get creative.

It's an experiment, if you will. We'll see if anyone survives. If I don't post again soon, you'll know I've been overcome by two pint-sized kiddos and their lanky older sister. Or else I'm hiding in MY room watching Fetch with Ruff Ruffman while ignoring the antics of my kids. Not like that's ever happened before.

Like I said, it's an experiment. Let's see who can last longer -- mom or the kids.

Wow Hits Giveaway

2008-06-05T15:03:00.003-05:00

I've spent the last two days attempting to figure out my kids' new MP3 players. (Kudos to Aunt Jamie for finally sending the Christmas gifts. In May. I love that.)

Here's what I've learned about me and technology: We're not compatible. Unless it comes with step-by-step instructions complete with actual photos of idiots like me trying to navigate the websites, I can't figure out modern technology. Incidentally, if somebody wants to have mercy on my girls and explain to me how I can load music onto their Zen MP3 players, they'd be most grateful.

But that's not my point here. My point is that I'm completely happy listening to CDs on my Discman or Bose stereo (but not in my car, because the CD player broke). Like all things, I'm a decade behind the rest of the world. I like the CD. It's easy. It's comfortable. It comes with lyrics.

So I was pretty excited when Shannon over at Rocks in my Dryer announced yet another giveaway. She's going to share 20 copies of the Wow Hits 1 CD. Just as I'm a fan of the CD, I'm also a fan of Wow Hits. We have several of the yearly compilations plus the Wow Worship CD. (My 7-year-old is reading over my shoulder and just said, "Oh, I love Wow Worship. Can I turn it on?" How's that for an endorsement?) Oh, and Shannon's also throwing in a box set of SEVENTEEN other CDs, including Casting Crown's The Altar and the Door, which is one of the best albums in history.

Here's hoping I'm one of the lucky ones on the Random Number Generator!

There Go the College Funds...

2008-05-31T17:57:00.008-05:00

The gas station around the corner is now at $3.84 for regular unleaded. Let's see, my Odyssey takes just over 17 gallons, so that's roughly $65 to fill up the tank. And if my minivan gets 22 miles per gallon (on a non-trafficky week), I'm paying just over 17 cents a mile. Which means that I'm paying slightly more than a dollar just to drive six miles.

Six miles.

A trip to the grocery store is eight miles, so there's a buck-fifty in gas right there. A trip to and from church costs just under $4. And Kevin's commute? That's 32 miles roundtrip, so Kevin's paying $4 a day just to go to work. (His car is a little more efficient than mine, thank goodness.)

And now the airlines are trying to nickel-and-dime us on flights. We are heading to St. John in a few weeks for a wedding. We're flying American, which just announced that there is a $15 charge for the first checked bag (per person), and a $25 charge for the second bag. I checked online and found out that we are exempt since our tickets were purchased long before this rule. However, the money crunch has been weighing heavily on me.

The other night I had a dream that gas was up to $5.85. (Maybe it was a vision.) Then I dreamt that I was at the airport trying to check in for a flight to Florida. I had three bags, and the counter person said, "OK, three bags at $100 apiece, plus airport taxes and fees. That'll be $503." The counter person swiped my credit card before I had time to react. I started ranting and raving and throwing a big fit about the outrageous fees, and all the airline employess just smirked at me as if to say, "Yeah, you're getting totally screwed and there's not a thing you can do about it."

That was just a dream, but it sure feels like reality.

The economy always slumps during an election year, but this is just painful. For years I teased Kevin about his penny-pinching ways, but now I'm the queen of coupons and sales. I'm also avoiding going anywhere in the car unless there is an extremely good reason to go. Out of milk? We can wait a couple days. No bread? Use a tortilla. Out of toilet paper? OK, that one actually warrants a trip to the store.

Are there any economy pundits out there who can give me a rational explanation (in layman's terms, please) why I suddenly feel so poor?

Thoughts on the Lost Finale

2008-05-30T14:48:00.007-05:00

Last night I had a choice: Watch the Spurs/Lakers game or watch the Lost finale live. I chose the latter. So instead of seeing my beloved Spurs go down in flames, I had to watch Jin's freighter go up in flames. Brutal both ways. Just brutal.

In no particularly logical order, here are my thoughts and questions regarding the Lost season finale...

1. Why does Richard wear so much eyeliner? That intrigues me far more than the fact that he hasn't aged in 60 years. Did he (Nestor Carbonell) wear so much eyeliner when he was on "Suddenly Susan"? (Updated: Someone has informed me that Nestor Carbonell just has extremely thick, dark eyelashes. Wow. I know many women who would pay big bucks to have such natural markings.)

2. Funniest moment? When Sawyer called Lapidus "Kenny Rogers." I hope somebody compiles a list of all Sawyer's nicknames and one-liners, because they are some of the best parts during a dark episode.

3. I'm thinking that this entire thing is some sort of rich-person's game with Ben and Widmore as the central players. Remember when Hurley was playing Risk and said "Australia is the key to the whole game?" It would fit that this whole show is based around a game where the characters are just pawns. Maybe that's why Ben said "He changed the rules" when Keamy killed Ben's daughter. The game has rules and Widmore (as Ben's opponent) just broke them.

4. Sun's hysterical screaming after watching Jin and the freighter blow up just killed me, y'all. She's a mighty shrill screamer and I got rather choked up. I really don't want Jin to be dead, but then again I didn't want Charlie to die and look what happened there. Of course, dead is a relative term on this show. Hurley's playing chess with an invisible Mr. Eko, but who's to say Eko wasn't really there? Hurley doesn't seem all that insane to me. "Dead" people appear to Hurley and Jack when their consciences are bothering them, I've noticed.

5. I thought it was hilarious when Locke was wandering around the greenhouse looking for the agapanthus-hidden elevator, and when Ben showed up Locke said helplessly, "I didn't know what they looked like!" That was my exact thought when Ben was giving Locke those detailed instructions in the previous episode: "Locke wouldn't know an agapanthus from a daisy." What the heck is an agapanthus? Or was it an anthurium? Either way, Locke's a hunter, not a botanist.

6. Sun said two people were responsible for her husband's death. One of them is her father. Who's the other: Widmore or Jack? I'm thinking Jack. I kind of like the revenge-driven Sun. She's feisty.

7. If I were Locke, I would have given Keamy CPR as long as possible just to keep his heart beating. He knew that the boat would explode once Keamy's heart stopped, so why not pound on his chest forever hoping that his friends got off the boat? I doubt the C4 explosives would have been able to determine whether it was an artificial heartbeat or not just so long as the heart was still pumping.

8. Time-traveling bunnies. Oh writers, you slay me.

9. Is Jeremy Bentham an anagram of some sort? I can understand why Locke is using a pseudonym when he gets off the island, but what's the significance of that particular name? (Updated: I've learned that Jeremy Bentham was a real person, some type of philosopher. I don't do philosophy.)

10. That whole turning-of-the-huge-gear in order to move the island? Totally cheesy. Scenes like that make me wonder why I love this show so much.

That's my two cents. Your thoughts?

My Other Daughter, The Brainiac

2008-05-30T08:09:00.004-05:00

Apparently I underestimated the brainiac-ness of my 7-year-old. I got her scores for the Stanford Achievement Test yesterday.

Reading? Perfect score (130/130)
Spelling? Perfect score (36/36)
Bible Assessment? Perfect score (40/40)
Mathematics? Near perfect score (70/72)

Overall? She's a little brainiac, just like her sister. The only difference is that Caelyn likes to fly under the radar and not make a big show of it. (That's her mom's job. Parental bragging rights, you know.)

My Daughter, the Brainiac

2008-05-27T22:00:00.003-05:00

Today at carpool I stood by my car attempting to shield my eyes from the blinding 97-degree sun. Normally the girls race toward the car as they feel the freedom of that 3 o'clock hour. Today? Through my squinty eyes I could see my girls walking toward the car... slowly... kind of hobbling...

"What's the matter? Do your feet hurt?" I asked Kendra, my eldest.

"No, my backpack's just full."

I reached for her backpack and, KA-THUD!, promptly tore a ligament in my shoulder as the pack plummeted to the asphalt. OK, maybe I just dislocated my shoulder a bit. OK, maybe not. But the backpack was stinking heavy. You get my point.

When we got home 7-year-old Caelyn asked, "Do I have to take my backpack inside? Can I just leave it in the car?" I had mercy on her poor underdeveloped muscles and carried her pink polka-dot pack inside for her. That was my bicep workout for today.

Caelyn quickly darted upstairs, ignoring the contents of her overstuffed bag.

Kendra, on the other hand, said, "Mama, come see all my workbooks."

At this point I realized that the teachers spent today cleaning out the classrooms. There's only one more day of classes before the end-of-year party, so today the teachers had the kids take home all the leftover workbook pages and unfinished curriculum.

Now I'm going to take a wild guess and say that 9 out of 10 kids have already tossed all that paperwork. School's over -- why bother hanging onto worksheets that won't count for a grade?

But my child, you see, is part of the 10 percent that absolutely, positively, totally and completely loves school. She wakes up every morning before 6, is dressed and demanding breakfast by 6:20, and then taps her foot impatiently until Daddy is ready to leave an hour later.

Kendra unzipped her backpack and carefully laid out all her workbooks on the kitchen table. She narrated as she went along and presented each book to me as if she were a model on The Price is Right. Look at these gorgeous workbooks! What's your bid on these fabulous prizes?

I feigned interest. Kendra then spent the next hour ripping out the unfinished pages from her workbooks, making neat little stacks organized by subject. She then -- and this is the part that kills me -- started DOING the worksheets. School is over. Grades are in. But my 8-year-old child has just created her lesson plans for the next six weeks.

Here's the clincher: At one point I looked at Kendra and asked, "Are you going to do all those worksheets?"

"Yes, Mama, and I have two reasons. One, I don't want to waste the pages. And two, I don't think Mrs. Perry gave me enough work this year."

She's an anomaly, she is. A beautiful, brainy anomaly.

I Went to Costco Today

2008-05-22T23:07:00.003-05:00

Can you tell?

So here's my question: How are you all dealing with the rising costs of food? Is it affecting the way you plans meals yet?

The Good, the Bad, and the Smelly

2008-05-21T23:20:00.004-05:00

The Good: Today was one of those interact-with-random-strangers days...

I went to the Lancome counter at Macy's cuz it's free gift time, y'all. Sweet Judy, whom I have never met before, waited on me and in less than five minutes had made my day. She was just full of compliments on my skin tone, hair color, and at one point said, "You're so educated." We were talking about make-up... that proves I'm educated? What I loved most was that Sweet Judy, as she will forever be known in my mind, seemed genuinely surprised when I told her I have three children. God Bless her! She actually asked how old I was when I got married and did a great doubletake when I told her my current age. She was either the best actress/saleswoman ever or she has cataracts. Either way, I just adored her.

(This incident is in stark contrast to the rude woman at the Rolling Oaks Lancome counter who, several years ago, warned me that my crow's feet were "getting out of control." She didn't get any commission from me that day.)

(Oh, and two weeks ago at Kohl's the cashier said, "You're pregnant!" Um, no, apparently I was just wearing a very unflattering shirt.)

I also met a woman named Marcia (Mar-cee-ya, not Mar-sha) today. In a 30-second interaction I learned that she hadn't been sleeping well at night. I shared Psalm 127:2 with her, she shared another scripture with me, and we instantly went from strangers to prayer partners. I prayed for you today, Marcia, just like you asked. Hope you slept well tonight.

Later I was at the stoplight at Nacogdoches and 1604 sucking down my Diet Coke because I hadn't eaten or drinken (that's a word, right?) anything all day and it was at least 120 degrees today. Anyhoo, there was a homeless man at the corner holding up an empty cup. I don't normally do this, but I rolled down my window, flagged him over, and emptied my coin purse into his cup. I asked him where he was sleeping at night and this man proceeded to tell me about his tent and mattress and "kitchen set," which could mean anything from a hot plate to a flask, I suppose. The light changed and I was forced to cut our conversation short, but I actually enjoyed talking to this homeless stranger.

My gut tells me that this man will likely drink away the $1.53 I gave him, but I honestly don't care. When the Bible talks about giving to the poor, I have yet to find a clause that says "Give to the poor unless you think they are drunks" or "Give only to the people who are trying to get into a halfway house." As far as I've read the Scriptures, it just says to give. Granted, giving to a bedraggled homeless guy on the corner might not be the wisest use of God's resources, but somehow I felt led to give to that man today and I'm glad I did.

The Bad: The Spurs choked. Badly. I just cannot believe they blew a 20-point lead.

Also, the nanny around the corner stopped me at preschool this morning to tell me their house had been broken into yesterday. The thieves broke down the back door and managed to get just about everything of value. This event is not going to help my fear issues.

The Smelly: I ran a load in the dishwasher tonight, and 10 minutes ago I got a whiff of the distinct smell of burning plastic. Using my remarkable bloodhound skills I quickly determined that the dishwasher was the source. I opened the dishwasher and -- poof! -- was immediately enveloped in stinky smoke. A tupperware lid had falled through the racks onto the heating element and now the stench of burning plastic is making my eyes burn. Guess I'll open the windows tonight.

Poor Kevin is stuck in Dallas right now, but at least the cavalry is headed home. Too bad he's coming home to a stinky house.

The Hubs, He's Good

2008-05-20T20:40:00.002-05:00

Kevin's off on another business trip, this time to Portland, Oregon. He was home for 36 hours this weekend before hopping on another germ-infested plane headed for the opposite coast he visited last week. I'm here holding down the fort, and here's what I've learned over the last week: I never, ever want to be a single parent.

I have the utmost respect for moms and dads who are raising children by themselves. Getting up at the crack of dawn, fixing breakfast, packing lunches, running carpool, running like crazy to get it all done before the afternoon carpool, homework, dinner, baths, bedtime. I'm bloody exhausted and the house is a disaster.

When Kevin's home he's the one to get up with the girls and fix breakfast. I usually roll out of bed by 7 to brush their hair before school. Kevin takes them to school, so I usually have semi-leisurely mornings or I have time to hit the gym. This week I haven't figured out how to fit a workout into all this other craziness. And let's now forget that I don't even have a job right now. Real single parents are trying to have a career in addition to raising their children. I'm blessed to have a husband who works extremely hard so I can be a fulltime mom.

Kevin also blessed me this week by writing me a letter while he was in New Jersey. I got it yesterday and have read it several times since. I love a good love letter. I won't tell you what he said because Kevin would probably be embarrassed. All I can say is that it was two pages of affirmation that warmed by heart and made me smile.

The hubs, he's good. I can't wait for him to come home again.

100 Things I've Learned the Hard Way (#1-10)

2008-05-16T20:25:00.003-05:00

#1. Waiting until 10 p.m. to start writing an essay when the paper is due the next morning is not a good idea. Especially when the essay is on your college application. Sometime around 3 a.m. you will be sitting, bleary-eyed, over your Apple IIc and think you have just written the most brilliant sentence ever to come out of a dot matrix printer. Hours or days later you will re-read your essay and realize that you wrote something resembling the logic of a two-year-old at naptime. (Oh, and you won't get into that college, but you will get into a lesser college and repeatedly wait until the last minute to write papers. And you'll rationalize it by saying you work better under pressure. You don't.)

#2. Never buy jeans on eBay. It doesn't matter if this is the exact same brand and style you always wear -- there is something wrong with those jeans and they will not fit, even if they are NWT (that would be New With Tag for the novices). And it pains me to say that some unscrupulous people will attach tags to a worn pair of jeans and try to pass them off as NWT even though these are last year's style.

#3. High-waisted, tapered leg jeans are neither flattering nor fashionable. Especially when paired with a cardigan and Birkenstocks with raglan socks. Oh, I shudder over those photos.

#4. When you are pregnant and suffering from morning sickness, it is not a good idea to eat scrambled eggs and then attempt to brush your teeth soon after.

#5. If the oven timer dings but the food is not quite done, SET THE TIMER AGAIN. Otherwise you will most likely forget about the food until you smell smoke or see spurting flames.

#6. Your parents do, in fact, know more than you do. Maybe not in everything, but as a whole, more.

#7. It is a rare person who has naturally well-shaped eyebrows. I am not one of those people.

#8. Tweezerman tweezers are the only tweezers worth buying.

#9. Matching your eyeshadow to your clothing is not wise, especially if your high school cheerleading outfits are purple. You will look like Barney with a black eye.

#10. Your children will repeat the exact word you wish you hadn't just said. When they're two.

My Brown Eyes are Looking Green Tonight

2008-05-14T20:18:00.004-05:00

This morning Kevin hopped a plane to New York for some kind of business trip. Reminder: He's an accountant, so the business part of the business trip is a definite YAWN. But, this afternoon he called me from the American Girl store in the middle of Manhattan, and my eyes immediately changed from brown to green.

Jealous? Yup, just a little.

My day consisted of painting the huge wooden Wheel of Wow for Caelyn's Webkinz party on Saturday, running a bunch of errands, burning a batch of cupcakes, going back to the store for a second box of cupcake mix, and laundry/dinner/dishes. Basically, I was a full-time mom to the fullest definition.

But when Hubs called me from Manhattan, my heart wished I was there with him. NYC is a part of our history... we got engaged at the top of the Empire State Building in June 1994 and we honeymooned at the Four Seasons in December 1995. We've seen several Broadway plays, eaten at some darn-fine restaurants, and wandered the streets in both 90-degree weather and in the middle of a blizzard.

Don't get me wrong -- I'm not sad that I'm here doing all my motherly duties. Tomorrow is Caelyn's birthday and I've got PLANS, I tell you. She's going to have a great day if I can drag myself out of bed on time. I wouldn't want to miss her birthday, and I know Kevin is sad that he's missing it.

But on the other hand, I wish I was with Kevin right now watching Wicked or whatever other show we got tickets for. I wish we had reservations at One if By Land, Two if By Sea. I wish we could go book-browsing at The Strand and go back to the spot where Kevin proposed.

Here's my consolation: Kevin's not actually staying in NYC. He was just driving through on his way to Warren, NEW JERSEY, a place that doesn't have any emotional hold on me at all. So there, I feel slightly better now. Now I have to go bake another batch of cupcakes and try not to burn them this time.

Mother's Day Insomnia

2008-05-11T03:30:00.003-05:00

It's somewhere around 3:30 a.m. on Mother's Day, and I've got a pounding headache and can't sleep. Yesterday I volunteered at a Scholastic Book Warehouse sale for four hours so I could earn free books. Here's an important thing to know: Warehouses are not air-conditioned. And it was 101 degrees yesterday. And I had the 1-5 p.m. shift, so I was reshelving books during the hottest part of the day. Still, it was kind of fun and I came home with a big box of books for both the kids and me.

While I was driving home I called the house to see if I needed to pick anything up on the way. Kendra answered the phone and she and I got to have a 5-minute conversation about our days. As she was talking to me I kept thinking, When did she grow up so much? I loved listening to her sweet voice on the phone as she asked me questions about what I did that day and what books I picked out for her. Her inquisitive mind wanted to be able to picture exactly what the warehouse looked like and exactly what I did all afternoon and exactly how many people I talked to. I love that she wants to be so connected to me even though I was only gone for a few hours.

When I got home the kids were in their bathing suits ready to cool off. We hooked up the Slip-n-Slide and then let the kids take turns soaking each other while jumping on the trampoline. While they were splashing and jumping and giggling my heart was filled with the realization that these moments won't last very long. Before I know it they'll be too old for waterplay and silly backyard games. They'll be more interested in friends than family. They'll grow up with lives of their own and won't care as much about how Mommy spent her day.

Please, Lord, help me enjoy this time with my children. It's so fleeting and I don't want to miss it. Please protect my mind from getting so bogged down with laundry and household duties that I can't stop to enjoy my children's questions and their laughter. Amen.

A Tale of Three Moms

2008-05-06T22:21:00.004-05:00

Three moms with three kids with an abnormal number of what looked like bugbites, mostly on the arms and legs. One mom thought it might be chicken pox but sent her child to school this week. One mom doubted it was chicken pox and sent her child to school without thinking twice. One mom called a nurse, believed it was chicken pox, and kept her child home from school to give her oatmeal baths and Caladryl treatments.

Which mom was I? The second one. I saw the third mom's child yesterday, and her child and my child looked identical in terms of bites/pox. I still don't think it was chicken pox, but I guess we'll see if an epidemic gets started next week.

Since kids are getting vaccinated -- with boosters -- for chicken pox, has the disease actually changed format? My daughter's marks were scattered on her arms and lower legs (in other words, places where bugs could easily have bitten her). She only had a couple marks on her torso and those were barely noticeable. But chicken pox usually starts on the torso and then spreads outward. At least, that's what mine did when I got chicken pox at the age of 19.

Are there doctors, nurses or seasoned moms out there who can shed some light on what post-vaccinated chicken pox look like?

Blogger Template Help

2008-05-05T08:16:00.003-05:00

I was wasting time on the internet this morning and came across a website that has predesigned templates for Blogger. I was particularly fond of this one, which is green and happy. But then I found THIS one, which features the San Antonio Spurs. And that says it all.

So I tried to copy the code and edit my HTML, which seemed easy enough until I got a warning that all my sidebar widgets would be lost. I had the good sense to stop before I lost all my widgets, but here's my question...

How can I change my template without losing my widgets? HTML code is a mystery to me and if someone could help me learn its nuances I'd love to be able to snazzify my boring layout.

Link Love

2008-05-02T18:42:00.005-05:00

I have a secret: I think this website is absolutely hilarious. Irreverent humor, slightly sacreligious, definitely spot-on. If it weren't true it wouldn't be so stinking funny.

My personal faves of late:
#197. Super spiritual Christmas cards or letters. Over the years I've gotten a couple Christmas letters that were so depressing I felt like all the Merry had been sucked from my Christmas. Truth is good, but a truly horrible year does not have to be documented in detail. If your Christmas letter bears a strong resemblance to the book of Job, maybe it's time to rethink.

#194. Traveling Mercies. This phrase gets used an awful lot during prayer time in my Sunday school class. And now my entire class knows that I am giggling to myself whenever someone says it. Or else I have inappropriate '80s songs running through my head because someone used a word or phrase that triggered a connection to my vast wealth of song lyrics. How many times has "Melt With You" popped into my head because we asked God to stop world wars? (I'll stop the world and melt with you.) My brain, it's not normal.

#181. Preaching an 87-week-long sermon series on a single book in the Bible. Six months in Isaiah. 'Nuf said.

#171. Meticulously, Magnificently Making Multiple Messages Match. So true. I actually like it when my homiletics are alliterative -- I feel like I'm getting a gold star in proper Bible study.

#129. Chick-fil-A. I really do love Chick-fil-A, except for the one worker who can't get my order right when I'm using multiple coupons and upgrading from fries to fruit. And why can't I substitute a side salad for the fries? But other than those petty gripes, Chick-fil-A is the best. Can I get an amen?

History Repeats Itself

2008-05-01T22:53:00.002-05:00

This is why the world keeps having wars - boys can't remember the stupid things they've done before.

This morning I was enjoying some peace with a side of quiet while drying my freshly-colored hair. (L'Oreal Natural Match 5W, for those who need to know. Excellent hair color and I just love knowing that my hair is the exact same color as Selma Hayak's. If only I had her intriguing accent, too.)

But, I digress.

As I was saying, I was using the hair dryer when David appeared and broke one of Mommy's Cardinal Rules: Do not interrupt Mommy when she's drying her hair. That might seem like a silly rule to you, but those 10 minutes under the dryer are the only 10 minutes of guaranteed quiet I get all day.

David knew he was breaking The Rule, so he timidly approached and said, "Mama, I need to tell you something. [Long pause, which we all know means trouble.] "I have a popcorn ball up my nose and it hurts."

Now here's the thing: David is not new to shoving things up his nose. His most famous incident involved a purple bead and a trip to the doctor's office. But it's been a while since he's actually gotten something stuck up there, and I thought my little man might have learned from his prior mistakes.

Apparantly the mistake was mine. David had managed to wedge that popcorn kernel pretty far up his nose. It took several big blows, but the kernel finally shot out of his nose and pelted me on the leg. I debated saving it for his baby book but even I think that's just too gross. Funny, but gross.

Ask Away

2008-05-01T08:06:00.002-05:00

Beth and Carlos have been doing this, so I thought I might try it, too. (The only potential problem is that their readership is about 4 b'jillion, and I have 8 people who read this blog. But anyhoo...)

Ask me anything. I mean ANYTHING. You can ask questions about me, my family, God and the universe, whatever. I'll try my best to answer everything, and if I don't know the answer I'll just make something up and try to sound confident about it. (That's how I got through college and my first few jobs.)

So c'mon all you lurkers and passersby and real-life friends who never comment... Ask Away.

The Woman's Remote

2008-04-28T08:08:00.001-05:00

But where are the laundry buttons?

Thanks to my great friend Christi for sending me this via email.

For more Monday Laughs, visited Absolutely Bananas' blog. She cracks me up.

233

2008-04-24T07:36:00.004-05:00

233. That's the number of questions I was asked yesterday by my children, and this was a day when all three had school. Try to imagine what life is like during summer vacation and they have nothing better to do than pummel me with constant inquisitions.

Here's what the first 20 minutes after school sounded like:

What's for snack? Why did David get a cookie? How many more days until we go camping? Are the Thomases going? Are the McBrooms going? Where are we sleeping? Can I bring a Webkinz? Mama, why can't we go to Sonic today? When can we buy a truck so we can sit in the back? Why can't we buy a truck? How do you know it won't fit in the garage? What do you mean gas is 'spensive? Where do you get your money? Do I have money in the bank? But you don't work, do you? How many more days until I'm a grownup? Why was I born last? Who will be a grownup before me? Who will me my mommy when I'm a grownup? No, I mean your Daddy's mommy, so who will be my mommy? What's a wife?

And so on, and so on, until I thought my head would explode.

My Official Concession Speech

2008-04-22T13:22:00.003-05:00

I didn't win the haiku contest, but I sure did appreciate all the emails and comments telling me that you appreciated my tongue-in-cheek poem about motherhood.

I would officially like to proclaim that my mother was and is not bipolar. She called me, rather concerned, and asked if I actually thought she was a depressive sort of mom when I was growing up. Hardly! My mom has an infectious sense of humor, which she desperately needed raising three girls who were, shall we say, strong-willed?

By the time I was born, my mom already had Brooke, who was then 20 months old, and Jamie, who was just a year older than Brooke. That's right: My mom had three children under the age of 3 -- voluntarily! -- and lived to tell about it. Can you imagine what it was like at our house when all of us were going through puberty at the same time? It's a miracle anyone survived, and my sisters and I did try to kill each other several times over such important things as hairbrushes and Aqua Net. It was the '80s, after all.

However, it is a universal truth that motherhood can make all of us feel crazy at times. Just the other day I screamed at my kids about their ungrateful attitudes regarding dinner, as if yelling about ingratitude would suddenly make them feel grateful. Motherhood brings out the worst in all of us, doesn't it? But on the flip side, we also get to experience some of the absolute sweetest moments ever. My son recently brought me handfuls of weeds that he'd carefully collected during softball practice. With a huge grin he presented me with my "flowers," and I couldn't have loved a dozen roses any more than I loved those weeds.

So here's to motherhood, with all the good and bad. I'd offer you a glass of champagne but it's only 2 o'clock. Then again, as my Grandma Clara used to say, it's 5 o'clock somewhere!

And kudos to Darcie, who has the cutest smile this side of the Pecos!