Im not in kalamazoo anymore....

hiking, getting lost, angels and devils

2011-08-18T21:24:00.005-05:00

Hello there!
Wow! This feels awkward!
I haven't blogged in such a long time, I don't know how to start.

Well, I thought I'd tell you about one of my adventures with Ace.
Not sure there's anyone out there to read this anymore (actually, there two people that I'm gonna force to read this. They commented on my facebook page that I should blog about this...tempted me to blog again...you know who you are!)

Anyhoo, back to my story.
Ace and I have been hiking a lot lately.
I guess you'd call it that. Not sure what the difference between walking and hiking is, but hiking sounds cooler.

So, as I was saying, we've been hiking a lot.
It started because I was getting sick of taking Ace to a "dog park" daily.
Dog parks are great, don't get me wrong. I may have strangled Ace as a puppy if it weren't for dog parks. There are some really nice ones around here. Big fenced in areas where you can let your dog off leash and let him run around and play with other dogs. Some of them are pretty fancy with agility equipment, doggie drinking fountains, ponds for swimming and such.
And I met a lot of nice dog owners while standing around at these parks.

But that's just it, I got kind of tired of standing around.
One day last fall, a woman told me about her favorite park where she likes to walk her dog.
So Ace and I decided to check it out the next day.

It turned out to be a beautiful nature preserve with miles and miles of trails.
Some of the trails are wooded, some are across prairies, some are paved, some are gravel, some are just dirt. There's a big lake and lots of wild life to see. Oh, and don't even get me started on the wild flowers!

Ace and I started going there every single day. Rain or snow or freezing temps didn't stop us (okay, I'll admit, when the wind chill drops below -10, I draw the line!).
And soon we started hearing of other dog owners favorite parks. Ace and I always went and checked them out. And then it became kind of a challenge, trying to find new and interesting places around the Chicagoland area.

I'm amazed at all the parks my new home has to offer. I'm even more amazed at how much I love hiking around these parks.

I have begun to expand my search for fun places to hike. I don't mind driving an hour or two to hike a beautiful place.

A couple weeks ago my family was vacationing in Wisconsin. We were camping near the Dells. It was Ace's first "long" camping trip with us. The kids wanted to go to one of the water parks one day. We decided The Hubby would take the kids and I would take Ace on a hike.

I chose Devil's Lake State Park because a friend (and fellow dog owner) recommended it.
It is truly an amazing place. I was blown away by the beauty of the landscape. The trails were perfect and it wasn't that crowded. Part of the reason it wasn't crowded was because the heat index was 108 that day.

I took 3 water bottles in my backpack. There were a couple places to refill so I figured that would be enough. We did the first part of the hike, what seemed to be a little less than 2/3rds of the way around the lake, without any trouble. I will say it was incredibly hot and I was trying be very conscious of how much water we drank so we wouldn't run out.

We stopped and had lunch, rested and I refilled our water bottles. I had talked to some other hikers who told me the last part of the hike was easier than the first part, so when we set off I was feeling a little more relaxed and maybe not as concerned about rationing our water as I should have been.

After about a mile of hiking, we came upon a large rock that was coming out of the ground and on one side of it was a cave. It was strange because the area we were in was more wooded than the other trails that we had been on. I walked around the left side of the rock and looked in the cave. The trail continued to the left and we followed it. I saw more giant rocks everywhere and they were beautiful (ask my family...I really like rocks). I wasn't paying much attention to the trail. Ace was in front of me and I was mainly looking up.

The next thing I notice is the trail is gone. Ace and I are standing in foliage. I turn around and I don't see a trail anywhere. When I look ahead and off to the left a little I think I see somewhat of a "path" so we keep walking. At first I thought we had just got a little side tracked, that the trail was just over to our left.

But as we walked, it soon became clear that we were not any where near the trail.
I don't know if you've ever lost your way in a densely wooded area before but I can tell you that it is extremely disorienting. I was amazed how quickly I lost sense of North. I also couldn't figure out the direction of the lake.

Ace and I kept walking. The terrain was steep and either rocky or covered in plants up to my shins (I was sure some of it was poison ivy). There were huge fallen trees we had to climb over. Ace was having trouble getting his footing. I should also say here that I had no cell phone coverage.

I kept stopping to listen, hoping I would hear people on the trail. What if I was going in the wrong direction and just getting deeper in the woods? We had already drank half of our water. What if we ran out? It was so hot! We kept going, slipping and stumbling.

I'm estimating that we walked for about 20 minutes like this (it probably wasn't that long...when your on the verge of panic a minute gets awful long) and then we came around a bend. Straight ahead was a small gorge with lots of big rocks that would take forever to climb over. To our right was a very steep hill with more fallen trees. I didn't feel like there was much choice, we had to go up the hill. I had to climb using my hands and had to help Ace over the first tree. As I climbed over, I scraped my leg pretty good. That's when I started to loose it. I felt tears coming to my eyes.
Just then, I saw a blonde woman standing at the very top of the hill. I felt a huge rush of relief. There was a human! The trail must be up there! Thank God!

I climbed the hill as fast as I could, helping Ace when needed. The whole way I kept thinking "oh thank God" and "this is almost over!". When we reached the top of the hill I looked up and my heart sank. All I saw was more dense woods. At least it was flat, but no trail, no blonde woman, no sounds. I called out "Hello?" but got no response.

I decided to try and go straight ahead a little further (seems so silly now because I was so disoriented). We continued to walk for a few more minutes and suddenly I heard voices. I immediately ran towards them as fast as I could. Finally, I could see a break in the trees up ahead. I saw a group of teens walk past (thank God for noisy teens!).

The teens were down the trail to our right when we finally stepped out of those awful woods. I wanted to kiss that trail. I've never been so happy to see a trail in my life. I walked on that trail as fast as I could without running. All I wanted to do was get back to my car and leave this place.

And so we walked fast. And we didn't see anyone else on the trail for a long time. As I was walking I started to wonder about that blonde woman at the top of the hill. Maybe it was dehydration or maybe the woods were playing games with my mind but a thought flashed in my mind for just a second....What if that blonde woman was really an angel?

But it was only a second. And not because I came to my senses and said "Nah!" but because right at that moment the woods spit out that blonde woman on the trail right in front of me.
And her husband too.
"Holy $#*%! (she didn't seem so celestial now) We have been lost in the woods for over an hour! I didn't think we were ever going to find our way out!"
They both actually feel to their knees on the trail and gasped for air like they had been under water instead of in a bunch of trees.

We walked for a while with our new friends and both agreed we'd made our navigational error at the cave. Then we came to a fork in the trail. They decided to take the "long way". I decided to take the advice of another hiker I'd met earlier that day and go on the trail called "Devil's Doorway".

Yep, I'm really THAT stupid....but that's a whole other story.

my dry cleaner loves me

2011-01-13T09:25:00.006-06:00

This morning I took some time to evaluate my job/ role as a wife.

You know, how I think I'm doing.

This isn't something I do on a regular basis.

Actually, I don't know if I've ever thought about it much.

Maybe never.

But three little words spoken to me this morning made me stop and think.

I'm sure you'll never guess what those words were.

It all started when I walked into the dry cleaners and the man working there said

"Hello, Mrs. Smith." (name changed for safety)

I stopped in my tracks and these were my thoughts...

He knows my name? Already?

We haven't been coming here that long!

The Hubby is the one that usually drops off and picks up his cleaning.

We must come here WAY too often!

He must think I'm a really bad wife, not doing my husbands laundry.

That's how the whole "let's re-evaluate your wifely duties" conversation in my head started.

I spent the drive home thinking about it.

I'd like to plead my case.

The Hubby and I had only been married a year or two and we were having the same fight over and over.

It was our "tube-of-toothpaste-fight".

You know how people tease newly married couples about fighting over squeezing the tube of toothpaste different ways.

I never really understood that.

Just buy two tubes for goodness sakes! Geez! (which we always have. I squeeze from the middle and Hubby neatly from the end... silly, I know).

So anyhoo, our "tube-of-toothpaste-fight" centered around laundry.

Specifically, me not doing it "right".

Week after week he pointed out this mistake of not hanging a certain shirt straight or that mistake of over drying a special pair of pants.

It was bad. Okay, I'll admit this was much bigger than some tube-of-toothpaste-fight.

Finally, one day I snapped.

"I'm done!" I announced. "From now on, you can do your own laundry."

And for almost twenty years I've held my ground.

As he has gotten busier with work over the years, more and more of his clothes go to the dry cleaners.

And I never really thought about it.

Until today.

That whole drive home I asked myself

"should you give in and do his laundry again?"

"are you a bad wife?"

"the fighting will start again. is it worth it?"

I decided I would bring it up with The Hubby when I got home.

If he thinks it's crazy the guy already knows me by name then maybe I'll start doing his laundry again.

You know, kinda like a "laundry sign".

He was in the shower when I got home.

"Honey?" I yelled over the noise of the water "You want to hear something crazy?"

and I told him.

"Oh, that's nothing! He knew my name by the second week. And you know what's really crazy? He has also known the last 4 digits of our phone number just as long!"

Whew! Turns out the laundry guy is just one of those freaky people that can remember people and numbers well (I like to call them freaky people only because I'm extremely jealous).

But there's something else that makes me wonder.

Just before we moved away from Kalamazoo I received a gift from the little old lady at the dry cleaners.

A very nice pair of hand made slippers (that Tony has stolen and won't give back to me)

I figured they gave them out to everyone.

Now I'm not so sure.

A holiday ode to my kids

2010-12-31T11:10:00.004-06:00

Twas about a week after Christmas

and all through the house

the hubby and I awake in bed

laying there as quiet as a mouse

We were silently appreciating

our house full of discord

we knew it would soon be over

and all would be bored

Our teen and adult age children

and all of their friends

filling our home with chaos

we wished would never end

Slamming doors, laughing voices

stomping feet on the stairs

smells of 2am pizzas cooking

carelessly filling the air

Night after night of sleep interrupted

waking to a house in disorder

A grocery bill that makes your wallet cringe

and a laundry pile like no other

But all these things I cherish

there's no need to pretend

I realize my children will be grown soon and gone

my only wish is that these times would never end

Yes, I can hear you now.

2010-12-29T20:39:00.003-06:00

I've been really bad about blogging lately.
Actually, I've just been super busy.
I do want to give you all a quick update on my surgery and say Thank you for all the prayers, well wishes and comments.

My surgery on December 1st went well. I expected a lot of pain but other than immediately post-op, it wasn't near as bad as I thought it would be.

I did have a few surprises.
The first was the complete deafness in my ear. I had severe hearing loss in that ear before the surgery but I was surprised at the difference.
I had about a week of total deafness.
It was weird.

I also didn't realize that it could be up to 3 months before I'd have my hearing back to normal levels.
Silly me, I guess I was so worried about pain, dizziness and healing time that I forgot to ask about the actual "hearing" part.

I was also surprised by the weird taste in my mouth.
I guess that is a complication of middle ear surgery. The best way to describe it is the taste of a really old piece of spearmint gum
that or sucking on a spark plug.

It's gross and makes everything taste funny.
You'd think I'd give up eating and maybe loose a few pounds,
Nah.

I had a pretty cool experience on December 19th.
That was the day of my oldest daughters graduation from college (woo hooo!! I can't believe I didn't blog about this!)
I was driving home listening to the radio and suddenly something popped in my ear and I could hear better.
Not just better
I could hear my voice outside my head for the first time in years.
It was huge!
And exciting!

And guess what I did?
yep, I sang!
I sang to the radio the whole way home!
And it was glorious!
not my singing
but the fact that I could do it.

I went to the doctor a couple of days ago and had my hearing formally tested.
I was surprised to find out it's almost at normal levels.

I wanted to do a little dance.

I'm still getting used to my "new hearing".
I forget that I don't need to pick the right seats or position at a table.
I forget that I can use my left ear to talk on the phone now.
How cool is that?

Only one little complaint.
I'm back to wearing ear plugs at night for the Hubby's snoring.

He did have his surgery (as agreed to) for his nose.
The Hubby was a hockey and soccer player in his younger years and broke his nose several times.
He also had his nose fixed before but broke it again afterwards.

It was a solid mess.
So solid that he couldn't breathe through it.

I remember our first dinner date.
He sat chewing with his mouth open during the whole meal.
If I hadn't been so mesmerized by his beautiful eyes, I would have put a nix on the whole thing right then and there.
I thought he was extremely rude.
Little did I know, he was just trying not to suffocate.

So anyhoo, He had surgery on the 21st (see, I have been busy) and it really hasn't affected his snoring that much.
Actually, with the plastic stints they have sewn into his nostrils, he kinda whistles now.
A combination whistle snore thingie.

And I can't sleep.
But I can hear.
And I'll take that any day!

A Time To Sing Again

2010-11-17T08:55:00.007-06:00

I have finally given in.

After years of complaining (my husband and kids), insults (my teens), and embarrassing moments (the list is way to long),

I broke down and scheduled surgery to have my hearing fixed.

I have mentioned my hearing loss in past posts.

I usually talk about the benefits of being deaf in one ear and having a mild to moderate hearing loss in the other.

~not having to wear ear plugs to bed anymore to block out the Hubby's snoring.

~not hearing the trains or loud teens or puppy's ringing bells in the middle of the night.

~the wonderful excuse to use on my teens "I never agreed to that! I must not have heard you correctly!"

When I was diagnosed with Otosclerosis in my mid 20's it didn't really bother me.

I was just having trouble hearing what some people were saying (I thought everyone had suddenly taken up mumbling just to annoy me).

Over the years it has slowly progressed.

I remember asking my ENT doctor how I would know when I was ready for surgery.

He said "You won't but you're family will let you know. Your hearing loss will drive them crazy."

Such wise words.

If I can judge correctly, I'd say my family has been ready for at least 5 years.

But I'm just chicken.

My solution?

Just don't go to the doctor anymore.

See what I mean about chicken?

But there comes a time when it all adds up and you get tired of it.

Tired of not feeling included in conversations.

Tired of your kids rolling their eyes every time they have to repeat what they say two or three times.

Tired of always having to consider where you sit in a lecture or where you stand in a group of people.

Tired of putting a smile on your face when you have no idea what someone just said and in your mind you are going through all the possible things you can say instead of "what?" or "pardon" or "sorry, I didn't hear you" (it gets really old).

I guess what I'm saying is the bad is finally outweighing the good.

There are things that have also "snuck up" on me, you could say.

Things that had changed over time that I didn't really notice.

A big one is being able to hear my own voice.

It's difficult to explain (and I could be explaining it completely wrong) but I think it is because I can no longer hear my voice through my ears effectively so mostly, I hear myself in my head (no, I'm not hearing voices in my head-I know what you're thinking).

I guess the best way to put it is, that I don't sound like myself.

I think that is why I have slowly stopped singing.

I used to love to sing.

In choirs, in church, in the car while listening to the radio.

But I feel like I don't trust what I sound like

and what I do hear, I don't like.

I will be having my stapes bone removed and a prosthetic device implanted on December 1st.

And the first thing I look forward to doing is singing again.

the basement project

2010-10-28T13:49:00.006-05:00

The Hubby and I have been talking about finishing the basement.
We've been talking about it since we moved in
a year and a half ago.

Hubby has finished the basements of all our previous houses.
He's a do-it-his-self kinda guy.

Paying someone to do something he can do himself would drive him crazy.
Or at least that's what he says.
I've never witnessed it.
He has ALWAYS done everything himself.

But with the amount of time he is working here in Chicago, he hasn't had the time.

And I was getting sick and tired of getting sent to my room.

That's what usually happened when the kids had friends over.
Trying to not be the hovering mom can feel like punishment sometimes.

So we decided to do a "temporary fix".

He painted the floor with that garage floor paint (with sprinkles- just like a party).
He hung painters drop cloths to separate the storage and workshop areas.
Then we unpacked all our old basement furniture and junk.

Notice on the left that Tony has taped a goal on one of the drop cloths.

We bought a used pool table off Craig's List.
and set out the old foosball table.

The only other thing we bought was a used mini fridge from the Hubbies work.

And now we've decided that this might not be so temporary.

It's sure is nice not having to worry about kids wrecking the basement you just spent thousands of dollars finishing.

We've had some experience with that too.

Like when one of them spilt a giant glass of chocolate milk all over the new carpet down stairs and "forget" to tell anyone (but somehow realized it was a good idea to move a chair over the spot to cover it). Then they do nothing about it until we all start to notice this horrible smell coming from the basement.

Anyhoo, everyone has been spending a lot of time down there.

Everyone, except Ace.

Ace still finds the kitty litter box to be full of treats that are too tempting to resist.

To him, this is just an unexplained torture.

Life is so unfair.

my new friends

2010-10-15T16:20:00.003-05:00

Everyday I take Ace to the small park behind our house.
Right now it's our favorite place to play Frisbee.

For me, it's my favorite because it's so close.
For Ace, it's because he always has an audience.

He's kind of a show off when it comes to playing Frisbee.

The park is always busy with all kinds of pee-wee soccer, football and lacrosse practices.
And the siblings of all these pint sized athletes like to play on the play ground equipment.
They also like to watch Ace.

The louder they clap, the higher Ace will jump.
Sometimes he likes to catch the Frisbee and then circle the group of kids before he brings it back to me.
Like he's saying "yeah, I'm awesome!"

There are two very cute little girls that are always there.
They have long curly black hair and bright blue eyes.
They are twins.
Taylor and Riley.

Try as I might, I can't tell them apart.
I've spent weeks looking them over, talking with them, trying to find something to distinguish them from each other.
Last night I finally asked them
"Taylor?" I said.
"I'm RILEY!!" she corrected me with a roll of her eyes for the hundredth time.
"Riley, do people have a hard time telling you and Taylor apart?" I asked.
"No body can tell us apart," She said proudly with her cute little lisp. "even my mom and dad can't tell us apart."
"You're mom and dad can't tell you apart?!" I was amazed. I'd never heard of a mom and dad not being able to tell their own twins apart. "So how do they do it?" I asked, hoping for a clue so I could use the information for myself.

Riley started to pull at the collar of her sweatshirt "See. This is how they tell."
I looked closely at her neck "Oh, you have a birth mark or something?"
She looked at me like I was crazy "NO! Pink! I always wear pink and Taylor always wears Blue!" I look over at Taylor who was pulling down her sweatshirt to reveal a blue t shirt underneath.

A little later I asked them both how old they were.
"We're 4." they said. "How old are you?" they innocently asked.

I paused for a moment. This could be funny to let her guess. But the last time I let a 9 year old guess my age she guessed I was 79. That was when I was in my late 20's. Now a days it doesn't seem like it would be as funny anymore.

"Well, I'm 41." I said honestly.
Taylor (or maybe it was Riley) swallowed hard as her eyes got big. "Wow!! That's really old!!" she said with her little lisp that I didn't find so cute anymore.

"Well, not really." I said more for my own sake than hers.
"How old is your mommy?" I was thinking I could put age in a little bit of perspective for them.
"My mommy is 10!" said Taylor.
"Oh really?!" I said trying to hold in my laughter. "And how old did you think I was before I told you?"
"We thought you were 5!" they lisped in unison.

Did I mention how cute they are?

Hello, My Name is Tori and I'm a Yo Gabba Gabba! addict

2010-10-09T10:00:00.001-05:00

Hello?
Hello?!
I'm waiting...aren't all you other addicts supposed to say "Hello Tori." ?!

Well, okay then.

Actually, I'm not really an addict.
I only watch it when I'm babysitting the twins.
It's not like I watch the show by myself or anything...

I don't!
Stop judging me.

I will admit, the first time I saw the show I thought it was the most awful thing I'd ever seen.
Worse than Barney.

And it scared me a little.
It seemed to have some kind of weird hypnotic powers over the twins.

I remember it all so well....

The twins were around 4 or 5 months old.
They were both crying.
I grabbed the remote to find something to hopefully distract them.
I stop on this program because of the weird name.

It was like a magic baby switch.
Suddenly, they were silent.
Mesmerized in fact.

They still are.

Every time I turn it on they stop and watch every minute.
And I can't figure out why.
At first I started watching it with them to find out what grabbed their attention.

I compared it to other kids shows.
I thought maybe it was the music or the bright colors flashing here and there.
But lots of other shows are colorful and filled with music.
And the twins could care less.

Maybe it's the weird creatures.
Even if you haven't seen the show you've probably seen them without realizing it.
Muno (the big red guy with one eye) for example, was featured in a Superbowl commercial for the Kia Sorrento "How do you like me now?" playing in the background. (love the sock monkey get a "MOM" tattoo sewn on his arm!)

I've given up on trying to figure out why kids love it.
Now I just enjoy watching it with them.
Well most of it anyways, some of it I still consider weird.

I'm a huge Alternative Music fan and I'm guessing that the writers must love Alternative Music too because they have featured some of great bands on the show.

I love seeing who they get to come on and the cute songs they sing.
All with a little "life lesson" of some kind.

Some bands that I've seen...
Jimmy Eat World...."enjoying a beautiful day with my best friend"
The Shins..."sometimes you win, sometimes you loose....it's okay to try again"
MGMT...."look around you....art is everywhere"
The Roots...."love and appreciate your family"
Ting Tings..."Happy Birthday song for Brobee"
The Salteens...."I'm so happy"
I'm from Barcelona...."just because it's different, doesn't mean it's scary...try new things"
Hot Hot Heat..."time to go outdoors...enjoy the sand btwn our toes, smell the flowers, see the trees, play in the garden hose".

and some groups I've never heard of until I saw them on Yo Gabba Gabba (who knew I'd find new alt music to listen to by watching a kids show!)

here's a couple.
Chromeo...."wash your hands"
The Mates of States..."no one likes to be left out...everyone offers something new"

There there is a Live Yo Gabba Gabba show touring around. They have had some groups that I hope will show up on the show sometime soon (Dinosaur Jr. and Cold Wars Kids to name a couple).

They also have a growing number of celebrities who make appearances on the show.

Jack McBrayer and Paul Scheer make recurring appearances doing knock knock jokes
Jack Black (a total must see episode...just to see him in a DJ Lance Rock orange outfit!!)
Amy Sedaris as the tooth fairy (although a mighty scary tooth fairy, if I must say!!)
Elijah Wood (teaching us a dancy dance)
Sean Kingston (also teaching a dancy dance)
Rhys Darby (from Flight of the Concords-a show I'll always LOVE) instructing us on how to pretend to be a robot!

And one of my favorite parts of the show with Mark Motherbaugh (The co founder of Devo). He does a recurring art segment that's very cute (and weird).

Check it out.

I won't tell anyone you did.

Pete's Promise

2010-10-04T11:39:00.006-05:00

Yes, this a new post about Perennial Pete. If you are new around here and want to read more about Pete then just type the word "Pete" into the search over on the right side of my blog and you can read all about our adventures.

A couple weeks ago, Ace rang his "go outside bell" before my alarm went off.

The Hubby elbowed me awake.

He mumbled "Ace is ringing the bell"

and I automatically stumble out of bed.

There are two reasons The Hubby can get away with this.

One, because I don't hear anything when I sleep so he has to elbow me

and two, because I'm too confused when I first wake up to argue "it's you're turn".

Anyhoo, I noticed the sun was just beginning to rise when I opened the front door for Ace.

The sky was a pretty hue of oranges.

I was appreciating this through my one open eye and with my forehead plastered to the little window next to my front door while I waited for Ace to do his doo-doo.

As he trotted back up the sidewalk towards me, I opened the front door

that's when I heard it.

It was a rooster crowing.

Ace walked past me while I shook the sleepiness out of my head.

I was sure I must be hearing things.

I waited a few minutes but didn't hear anything else.

Figuring I was just sleepy or maybe loosing my mind, I went back to bed.

A couple of days later the same scene played out.

Bell, elbow, muttering, stumbling, doo-doo, door, rooster crowing.

But this time that old rooster crowed a few more times.

And I smiled.

It's always a good thing when you realize you're not crazy.

So later that day as I was driving out of the neighborhood, I looked over at Pete's property.

And there it was, just as Pete had threatened or promised or prophesied.

A chicken coop.

And a bunch of chickens running around his yard.

It's not a giant chicken coop (like the neighbor said he planned to build) and his property is fenced so I don't see anything wrong with some chickens.

I will admit, I'm a little scared of chickens.

The Hubby and I have friends, who used to have chickens.

This couple told us some stories of their crazy and aggressive rooster.

They were even afraid of their rooster who would chase them around (even on the lawn mower).

So I blame Dave and Juliane for my fear of chickens. :)

So imagine my surprise the other day when I found chickens wandering down the road towards my house.

Thank goodness I was in my car.

With the twins.

Because I had to resist the urge to run them over.

I didn't want to scar the twins.

And make them afraid of chickens for the rest of their lives.

And besides, I'm kinda enjoying that rooster crowing every morning.

"My dog is an agility class flunkie"

2010-09-24T10:31:00.004-05:00

Yes, it's true.

And I've been in mourning for the past month.
Not really. Just taking another blogging break.

So yes, Agility Class Number 3 was our last.
Ace was officially kicked out, banished, expelled....
or as the trainer tried to put it nicely in her email "not welcome back".

Class number 3 started the same as the last two.
Even with 2 separate hours of Frisbee chasing, Ace was a hyper mess going into the building.
He jumped and twisted on his leash, growling randomly at the other dogs.

We did "crate training" again for 20 or 25 minutes.
Ace had made a little progress but not much.
He spent most of his time pacing and watching the other dogs.

We then moved onto "the tunnel".
The trainer held our dogs while the owners went to the other side of the tunnel and called them through.
Ace was at the end of the line watching all the other take their turns.
He would jump and spin on his leash and then look back at me as if to say "let me go! I want to try!"

It was finally Ace's turn.
I handed him off to the trainer and went to the end of the tunnel.
Before I could even finish calling his name, Ace shot through the tunnel.
I reached to grab his collar and he immediately dodged to the left, just out of my reach.

Ace ran straight over to the German Sheppard puppy.
Remember how I told you about the puppy that barked non-stop from the beginning of class to the end?
I've also mentioned before that Ace doesn't like it when dogs bark. He avoids them at parks and on walks. I've noticed he looks at them at times like he's puzzled by them. He sits there and tilts his head to the side and then looks to me as if asking "why is he making so much noise?"

Anyhoo, Ace bolted over and attacked the barking German Sheppard puppy.

I ran over and grabbed Ace as fast as I could, pulling him off the now yelping puppy.
The puppy's owner was knocked down in the process.
The trainer was there by my side in an instant.
"You never told me your dog was violent!" she blurted out accusingly.
"He never has been!" I said.

After apologizing profusely and inspecting both dogs (no injuries)
Ace was banished off to the corner of the room to calm down.

I was shocked (and extremely embarrassed)!
"Ace! What is wrong with you?!!" I wanted to grab him and give him a good shake so he would snap out of this crazed dog guise.
He just continued to jump and pull on his leash with what seemed like "let's do it again! let's do it again! that was fun!" attitude.

The trainer allowed us to give it another try at the end of the class.
"Are you sure?" I asked while I watched the other owners step defensively in front of their dogs or literally pick them up in their arms.

Ace tried again to cut quickly and slip past me.
But there was no way that was going to happen again.

After apologizing one more time to the German Sheppard puppy owner, I went home defeated and exhausted.

The Hubby and I talked that evening.
I told him I didn't want to do the class anymore.
I didn't like the way Ace behaved when we were there.
I didn't trust Ace while we were there.
I'm not sure I trust Ace at all anymore.

I got up the next morning and decided to email the trainer and let her know we wouldn't be coming back.
But there was already an email for me in my inbox when I logged on.

She was very nice. She explained their "no violence policy".

I totally agreed with everything she said.
But it still sucked.
It's hard to explain.

Have you ever been ready to break up with someone? You're actually on your way to "end it". And then suddenly, out of no where, they dump you.

And now, all you feel is how bad you want that person back?

That's kinda how it felt.

She offered a couple "private instructions" to make up the difference in the money I spent.
And we did those.
And Ace was his normal self.
Perfectly behaved.

I figure, at least she knows that I'm not some irresponsible dog owner. One that never bothered to train her dog.

Ace continues to learn new tricks.
When a dog walks by our house, Ace sits quietly in the yard and watches them walk by.
When we pass a barking dog on our walks, Ace still looks at them like they are crazy but other than that seems to ignore them.

I have had him off leash to play Frisbee at the park by our house.
We always have an audience of clapping kids and a maybe a couple of adults with dogs here and there.
Ace ignores them all. He is completely focused on his "job".

My reasoning for the classes in the first place, was to give Ace some physical and mental outlets.
I'll just have to do something different.

Just so this post isn't a complete "downer" I thought I'd share this video my cousin, Kristin sent me.

This will never be Ace.....and I'm okay with that.

what a dud

2010-08-21T09:51:00.004-05:00

Well, I've been putting off writing this blog because there really isn't much to say.

I've looked at last Monday's class from every possible angle to find some kind of humor in it...

but I've got nothin!

Ace was still his hyper self.

The hot dogs and cheese helped him focus a little more on me and my commands but not much.

We spent the first HALF of the class focusing on "crate games" again, which Ace refused to participate in.

He still wouldn't go anywhere near his crate.

The trainer told us not to push him.

She suggested maybe we try to lure him with treats to sit next to the crate.

So we spent the next 15 minutes trying that.

With little success.

The trainer then asked if the person and dog next to us could borrow our crate because hers was a little to small for her dog.

So we let her.

I thought for a moment it might be like when my kids were little...

You know, when your kid has no interest in that one toy until you're in the middle of a play date with that friend who seems like "super mom"--she has the best behaved kids and always seems to say the right thing-- and her kid picks up that one toy and now your kid wants it like nothing he's ever wanted before and is throwing the temper tantrum of a life time just to embarrass you to high heaven...

But no.

Not Ace.

He didn't seem to care that much.

He actually jut sat there and watched the other dog sitting locked in his crate.

I swear Ace had a look on his face like he was thinking "SUCKER!"

So, after another 15 minutes of just sitting there, we finally moved on to our next exercise.

This one the trainer holds the dog and the owner runs off calling the dog.

The dog is supposed to chase after his owner and we grab them.

Something to do with safety.

I've never had issues with Ace not coming to me.

You can imagine his excitement after just spending 30 minutes "sitting" while having massive doggie stimulus coming at him the entire time.

The trainer held Ace and I think I took about five paces and Ace was on me.

He jumped up as I bent over to grab his collar and he hit me right in the upper lip.

So now I'm bleeding.

And I'm trying to hide it while I get back in line.

Luckily, the quick swelling stanched the bleeding.

Now I just have a big fat lip.

I'm thinking maybe smiling would make it less obvious.

So that's what I did.

The trainer probably thought I was having a great time because I stood there with a stupid smile on my face.

We did a few more exercises.

None of which Ace "wowed" at.

(excuse my grammar).

So that was about it.

Nothing exciting to report.

Sorry.

This is how I found Ace the next morning....

Agility class round 2...the plan of action

2010-08-16T11:58:00.005-05:00

Ace has his second agility class tonight.

If you missed the horrible play by play of the first one click here.

I'm feeling a little better about tonight.

Mostly, thanks to all your supportive comments on here and facebook.

But also, because I have a plan of action.

I think it's a pretty good plan.

#1. Three rounds of Frisbee today followed by a long swim in the dog pond.

#2. Coating myself with many layers of bug spray (going extra strength with lots of Deet).

#3. Packing "extra special" treats for Ace which are...

*pieces of hot dog (He loves them but they usually upset his stomach...but I am willing to pay the price of disgusting doggie doo-doo duty the next couple of days to achieve complete attention from Ace).

*also piece of cheese (thinking it might counter act the hot dog laxative affect)

#4. Considering rubbing hot dog juice from the package all over my body.

#5. Bringing Tony with me to help. He will be in charge of treat handling and poo clean up (he just doesn't know this yet)

Wish me luck.

I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow!

Ace's first agility class

2010-08-12T12:36:00.001-05:00

Ace had his first agility class on Monday.

I was super excited.

I was sure it was gonna be great.

It wasn't.

Actually, it was pretty awful.

Knowing Ace's level of "hyper-ness", I decided he would have his normal exercise, plus a little extra for the day. I hoped this would tire him out and he would be calm for instruction.

I underestimated the amount of exercise he should have to keep him from getting over excited when he entered a huge pole barn full of dog agility obstacles, 6 other puppies (one who constantly barked the entire time), and fine grey sand-gravel loaded with doggie smells.

I'm pretty sure I could have ran him for 12 hours straight and he still would have acted the same. Which was like he had never been on a leash before and had never heard a command in his life.

He pulled me around the building to investigate everything, jumping and twisting when I tried to correct him.

He seemed to forget that I even existed. This from a dog who stares at me constantly and won't leave my side, ever.

The instructor could obviously see me struggling.

"Let him smell around" she said.

Like I had a choice.

There were so many things in that building, not only set up, but hundreds of things leaning against the walls, it would have taken Ace days to smell them all.

He kept lifting his leg to mark and I kept yanking his leash and saying "no". I was pretty sure that wasn't allowed.

The trainer finally called us all in.

There was a collection of chairs set up at one end and some of the other dog owners were sitting there with their puppies sitting or laying quietly at their feet.

There was no way Ace would do that. He was still jumping and spinning trying to get away. I ended up standing next to the training while she addressed the class.

She talked (what little I remember of it) about rules and such.

Then Ace took a big poo in front of the whole class. (yes, I did take him potty before!)

"Perfect timing for me to talk about puppy clean up" she said. I still felt like an idiot while everyone watched me try to open a poo bag, bend over to pick it up, all the while Ace jumped and twisted like a crazy animal.

Then we went around the room and did introductions.

That's when I noticed that Ace was by far the oldest puppy there. Most of the puppies were 12-15 weeks old. The closest to Ace was 6 months (he was the one sitting perfectly at his owners feet).

For a quick moment thought "Ace is too old for this class". I had emailed with the trainer back and forth. Telling her Ace's age and the classes he had attended. I would realize how stupid that thought was by end of the first instruction.

It was my turn to introduce Ace.

"This is Ace. He's one year old and he's a Border Collie." I said while Ace continued to flop around on his leash like a fish on a hook.

"And you got him from a rescue?" the trainer seemed to be leading me somewhere.

"No....from a breeder...." I said a little confused.

My mind immediately thought "it's the 'Chicago thing'-- like I see at all the dog parks. Everyone seems to get their dogs from a rescue." I'm feeling like I'm being judged again because I paid money for a full breed dog.

Until she asks "how many weeks have you had him?"

"Since he was six weeks old" I answer.

"Did you realize what you were getting into when you decided on that breed?" she asks.

"yes...." I'm really confused now.

She didn't ask all these questions to everyone else....

And it hits me like a tons of bricks.

She thinks because Ace is acting like insane-crazy-never-been-on-a-leash-absolutely-no-training-dog, I must have just got him.

Or that I'm an idiot.

I'm leaning toward the later.

"Do you provide a channel for all that energy?" She asks.

Now I'm a little offended.

"Yes, if you call an average of two hours a day of exercise at either the dog park, playing Frisbee, or walking a channel." I say.

I want to tell the class that most days people compliment me on how well Ace is trained.

That he knows sit, stay, heel, wait, leave it, go left, go right, to name a few.

That he will walk off leash around my neighborhood and I don't worry about him running into the road because he will do what I say...even if a bike or a bunny goes by.

That he knows the names of tons of toys.

That he can operate the electric windows in my car.

That he knows which way I'm going to throw the ball by just the turn of my shoulders or by a small point.

That he can perfectly time and catch a Frisbee flying at all speeds and angles (which is my excuse for continuing to throw a Frisbee like I've never seen one before....it better training for Ace's catching skills).

But I don't say anything.

I'm sweating now, covered by doggie drool and a layer of that fine grey gravel dust.

And I notice that I am being attacked by mosquitoes.

There's probably only a dozen mosquitoes in this well kept barn but for some reason they always find me.

"Time for a potty break" the trainer announces.

Guess who won't go?

I'm pretty sure Ace is saving up.

He's already figured out what obstacles he plans on marking.

I'm losing patience at this point along with about a quart of blood to the mosquitoes.

"Go potty Ace!" I command.

He gives me that look.

You know the "make me" look.

And I would have if I didn't start worrying about my hemoglobin level.

Instead, I tell him "if you so much as lift a leg inside....so help me Ace!!"

And we head back inside.

The trainer tells us we will be watching a video on "crate games".

We are all supposed to sit in the chairs and watch the video.

Everyone settles in.

Except Ace.

He has decided he wants to play with the 6 month old super-well-behaved-I'm-perfect-puppy.

Ace crouches head down, rump up and gives him the Border Collie stare.

Nothing.

The puppy won't even acknowledge Ace.

Ace wags his tail a little and gives a playful little yip.

The puppy eyes are on his owner, sitting perfectly waiting for the next command.

Ace tries again this time he moves a little forward and puts a paw on the puppy's hind leg.

This time he gets a response.

Only it's not from the puppy, it's the owner giving me a dirty look.

I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at her.

Mostly because Ace has decided to find other well behaved dogs to bother.

Needless to say, I have no idea what the video said.

We were directed over to our crates. The only time we use our crate at home is for when we leave Ace. He will go in his crate occasionally to take a nap on his own or to stow a toy. And just in the past couple weeks we have been leaving him out of the crate when we go somewhere.

The trainer tells us to put our dogs in their crates.

Ace immediately sits and refuses to budge. Nothing I can do will get him in there. He won't follow a treat in there. Not even his Frisbee.

I'm at the end of the line of crates and by the time the trainer gets to me all the other puppies are going in and out of their crates and playing their "crate games".

Ace has his heels dug in.

The trainer tries all the things that I have already tried. She then tells me to pick him up and put him in.

Imagine trying to put a cat in a bucket of water. Ace wiggled and arched his back. He flailed all four legs out. After a couple of failed attempts of trying to shove an insane shaped dog into a well behaved shaped dog sized hole, the trainer says "stop".

"What have you done to him? Have you been using his crate as punishment?" she says in an accusing tone.

"No! Never! The only time we use it is for when we leave him. He probably thinks I'm going to leave him here!" I say while wiping the grey muddy sweat off my face.

"Well, I've never seen a dog so upset!" she says in her I-don't-believe-you tone. "You'll have to work on this at home!"

Yeah sure. whatever.

We did a few more "exercises" that all made me look equally as horrible as a negligent dog owner.

I went home exhausted, dirty and defeated.

My only hope is that next week Ace adjusts to all the stimuli and "wow's" them all.

But I won't be holding my breath.

Do I have bugs in my teeth?

2010-07-30T08:25:00.002-05:00

Ace has lots of behaviors that I would call "quirky".

As he gets older he seems to get "quirkier" (is that a word?)

I'm beginning to think I could fill a book on his "quirkiness"

I know it's a Border Collie thing...

or at least I think it is.

I don't have that much experience with dogs.

Take riding in the car for example.

Ace loves riding in the car.

Yeah, I know, most dogs do.

It's what he does when he's in the car that is "quirky".

Most of the dogs I see in cars are either sitting there calmly

or they have their head hanging out the window.

Not Ace.

If the windows are closed, Ace paces.

In the backseat.

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

you get the idea.

It's nonstop.

If I open both back windows (his favorite)

he sticks his head out for a minute

and then runs over to the other one and sticks his head out for a minute

and then runs back and forth, back and forth.

I thought that if I opened just one window he would stay and look out.

Nope, not Ace.

he will stick his head out the window for a second

then paces back to the unopened one.

And he goes back and forth over and over again.

The only way Ace will not pace is if we are on a two lane road where cars are speeding past us in the opposite direction.

He will stick his head out the window and chomp at the cars that rush by.

Like he's biting each one.

The more traffic the faster he chomps.

His attempt at "herding" cars?
I don't know, but it definitely brings lots of laughs to whoever is riding in my car.

it's a tough job, butt somone's gotta do it

2010-07-29T06:52:00.002-05:00

The twins that I babysit showed up in these little outfits yesterday.

I thought "how cute" and they kinda remind me of something

not sure what it is...

but then as the day wore on I noticed a problem that seemed to go along with these outfits.

Do you see it?

how about now?

(sorry, that's a little too obvious)

Yes, for some reason these outfit caused a battle of the crack.

One that I ended up fighting all day long.

I don't remember having to yank up baby britches over and over ever before.

Butt...that's what I did all day yesterday.

The first day of the rest of my life....well, maybe

2010-07-28T10:50:00.002-05:00

I may have mentioned just a few times how I struggle with ADD.

okay, more than just a few times.

Usually I talk about my ADD while making fun of myself.

Or how it has affected how I handle a situation.

Most of the time I can find humor in it.

But I've noticed (and my family has too) as I get older it's getting harder to deal with and not so funny any more.

I wasn't officially diagnosed with ADD until my oldest son Bud was diagnosed.

I was around 32 (I think).

I had never considered that I might have something like that (did we even have that diagnosis when we were kids?).

Up until that point, I had struggled through school, I was unorganized, forgetful, a horrible reader.

I figured that I was just stupid.

When I heard the doctors describe what ADD was and how it affected Bud, I started to notice similarities in the way I had struggled and was continuing to struggle.

I ended up going to a specialist and getting tested and diagnosed.

My doctor put me on Ritalin.

It was like a miracle drug to me.

For the first time in my life, I read a whole book.

Actually, that's when I fell in love with reading.

I read constantly trying to make up for so much lost time.

I noticed I was more organized and able to finish tasks.

I didn't forget things so often.

But I hated the way the drugs made me feel.

This was right around the time that we were going through another major relocation for The Hubby's job.

I let my prescription run out.

Didn't ask my new doctor for any more.

I learned some new coping mechanisms.

And have been getting along "okay" since then.

Well, those coping mechanisms aren't working so well anymore.

I think it has something to do with getting older (oh joy!).

So I broke down and went to the doctor and asked her about getting on some meds again.

She wanted me to be retested to help choose a medication that is right for my symptoms.

Turns out the severity of my ADD is off the charts....hmmm. that explains a lot!

So today I start on my new medication.

I'm excited to see how these new meds work for me.

I'm excited to be able to concentrate for more than 10 minutes on one thing.

I'm excited to not forget to pick my kids up from school anymore.

I'm excited to see if I can get a little more creative.

Don't worry, I'm sure there will still be lots of blog posts about how I screw things up, look at things a little off and make lots of mistakes parenting.

I'm not expecting miracles here.

How can it be?

2010-07-27T08:00:00.001-05:00

Tony has gone and grown up.
In the span of 30 minutes.
Seriously!

He left the house today my baby
and came home a young man.

All due to a haircut.
Well, not really.

Sure, he's had plenty of haircuts before,
but I think there's this magically age
(usually around 8th or 9th grade)
where one day you look at your child
and suddenly you see a young adult.

With my 4th baby it just seemed to happen with the removal of about 5 pounds of hair.

I clearly remember the day I noticed Nae had changed over night.
It was the summer before her 8th grade year.
We were sitting in an auditorium for 8th grade orientation.
I looked over at her and thought "Holy cow! I see a woman!"
And I couldn't take my eyes off her.

And she noticed.

"Why do you keep staring at me?!!" she whispered.
"I'm not." I said nonchalantly and turned and tried to focus on the lady speaking.
That lasted all of 2 seconds and I was staring again.

"Will you stop?!!" she hissed.
"What?" I tried to pretend I was looking at something else that just happened to be over her shoulder.

She didn't buy it.
Mostly because I kept gawking.

But hey, I went through 38 hours of labor!
I figure I'm entitled to a little gawking.

Can I have an 'amen' ?!

Anyhoo, of course, I'd love to prove my point by sharing "before and after" pictures of Tony.
And of course, being the teen that he is, he refused to let me take a picture.

I could go up and take one of him sleeping....

Please note that I am showing great restraint right now.
Yep, I'm a good mom.

how The Hubby and I met

2010-07-21T14:00:00.000-05:00

The Hubby and I are celebrating our anniversary today.

We've been married 20 years.

In honor of our anniversary, I thought it might be fun to tell you the story of how we met.

Plus, I'm not a real mushy person (meaning no love poems here).

This seems more my style.

Our story begins the fall of my junior year in high school. That was the year my sister, Alex, left our home in Holland, Michigan and to move in with my dad and step mom in Kalamazoo (about an hour away).

One Friday evening I arrived in Kalamazoo for a regular weekend visit. My step mom was busy making dinner and asked if I could go pick up Alex. She told me Alex was over at Matt's house.

Matt was Alex's new boyfriend who I had never met.

I didn't bother writing down the directions or his address. It seemed pretty simple and figured I could remember.

I pulled into Matt's driveway. The garage door was open so I walked into the garage and knocked on the back door.

I waited a minute or so and then I knocked again, a little harder this time. I could hear music blaring on the other side of the door and I figured they must not be able to hear me. After another minute and still no answer, I knocked again, a little louder this time. Waited some more, no answer, so I banged my fist on the door as loud as I could.

Before I can finish knocking the door flies open and simultaneously the guy opening it yells impatiently "WHAT?!!!"

Oh, this is where I should mention that he is soaking wet with nothing but a hand towel clutched around his waist.

For a very long second I'm standing there, my fist still in the knocking position. The only thing that moved was my jaw dropping open.

I quickly put my arm down (and close my mouth) and try to remember what I'm there for.

I blush, stammer a couple incoherent words and then ask if Matt is home.

Naked Hand Towel Guy is blushing too.

All over I notice.

Naked Hand Towel Hot Guy tells me I have the wrong house. That Matt lives across the street and a couple houses down.

Now I'm feeling really stupid.

Naked Hand Towel Hot Guy With Really Nice Legs must be able to tell how uncomfortable I am.

He starts rambling.

He tells me how he is good friends with Matt.

How he thought the knocking was Matt messing with him.

I start rambling too.

Telling him who I am.

That my sister is dating Matt.

Where I'm from.

My social security number.

Naked Hand Towel Hot Guy With Really Nice Legs And The Most Beautiful Eyes I've Ever Seen makes some more small talk and then points me in the direction of Matt's house.

And I leave.

A little dazed and confused.

We ended up running into each other again later that night.

It turns out Naked Hand Towel Hot Guy With Really Nice Legs And The Most Beautiful Eyes I've Ever Seen Plus Really Great Hair has a girlfriend.

She must have heard the story of our meeting.

I was guessing by the way she glared at me.

But that didn't stop Future Hubby* and I from becoming friends.

*I will call him this now because if I continued to add all the other adjectives for his appealing characteristics as I got to know him better to "Naked Hand Towel Guy"...well, we could be here forever.

And he turned out to be a wonderful friend.

Over the next couple of years we had a lot of fun hanging out. He was always there to make sure I was doing okay.

He showed up at the hospital when Nae was born and I was all alone.

If I heard a motorcycle pull up outside the little apartment Nae and I lived in, I knew it was him stopping by to see how we were doing.

he sold this to pay for my engagement ring. that's when I figured out he must really like me

When my sister, Alex passed away he listened to all the endless talk I did about her and comforted me when I cried.

We started dating not long after that. It only took 3 years after that awkward meeting in his garage.

Hubby says he can still remember what I was wearing that day (he IS the ultimate "detail guy").

And for once, I can say the same.

It was a towel.

A green one.

Or maybe it was blue?

missing my blueberries

2010-07-16T07:42:00.000-05:00

I'm headed back to Kalamazoo this weekend.
Nae is a bridesmaid in a wedding.

I can't decide what I'm more excited about....

seeing a bunch of friends I haven't seen in a while

blueberries.

I have been waiting for Michigan blueberry season since February

That's when I ran out.

Every year I freeze a bunch.

I eat them every morning in my oatmeal.

Mac and the Hubby love blueberry pie

I make a lot of those

they will fight over them.

Tony likes it when I boil the blueberries down and make a sauce for his pancakes.

I haven't found blueberries here in Illinois like the ones back in Michigan.
Maybe other states have ones just as good.
I just haven't had them.

Blueberries that are huge and sweet.

This year I've decided I will bring home 40 pounds.

Sounds like a lot but we'll see...

Have a great weekend everyone!

Ace and the electric fence

2010-07-15T07:21:00.001-05:00

This spring the Hubby and I installed an underground electric fence around our yard.

As I've said before, our yard is the size of a postage stamp but I wanted to be able to let Ace out and not have to stand outside with him while he does his "business".
It was a long, cold, brutal winter. Well, not really but when you're potty training a puppy it's miserable standing out in the snow.

We asked one of those name brand underground electric fence companies to come out and give us an estimate to put one around our yard.

It was thousands! We said no thanks. A friend told me how they installed their own so we decided to do it ourselves.

The Hubby did lots of research on line and picked one that suited our needs.
Installing it wasn't fun but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

I carefully followed the directions to train Ace to the fence.
It only took once.
He got his first "correction" (the word electric fence manuals use that's supposed to sound more humane than the word "shock") and he never went anywhere near the fence (or anywhere near the treats I used to lure him to the fence) again.

Actually, that's not completely true.
He will go near the fence, for a good reason.

And there are two good reasons that live next door. Bob and Sue.

Ace loves Bob and Sue.
They give him wonderful treats.
They always stop to rub his belly.
They have a dog named Tucker that Ace loves too.

When either Bob or Sue comes by Ace chooses to get near the line of the fence.
But he does it in a curious way.
I always laugh when he does this and today I had my camera to catch Bob coming home from work.

first the tail starts going back and forth...

then he gets flat on his belly....

all four legs out to make himself as low as possible....

and he "army crawls"....

very slowly....

Bob thinks that Ace is trying to crawl under the fence.

almost there....

saying hello...

getting ready....

for the belly scratch!!

I love you Bob!

Ace's new trick

2010-07-07T20:08:00.007-05:00

Something is going on with Ace.

I'm not sure what it is.

All of the sudden, it seems, he is a genius dog.

And I don't say that to brag.

It's just a little eerie.

He seems to be absorbing massive amounts of information.

You can see it in his eyes.

And preforming new tricks.

After just showing him once or twice.

Several tricks a day, in fact.

Even the commands he obeys while at the dog park amaze people.

Yesterday morning I picked up his paw and said "Hi-five Ace" and slapped his paw against my hand.

Then I put my hand up and said "Hi-five Ace" and he did it exactly like I showed him.

On the first try.

I was pretty amazed.

I had tried to teach him "shake" a while back.

He just looked at me like I was an idiot.

I shrugged, maybe "Hi-five" is cooler so he's willing to do it.

We practiced it a few more times.

Later that day, after I had showed everyone and their grandma Ace's new trick, Nae came home.

I thought she'd get a kick out of it.

"Watch this" I said all excited.

I knelt down in front of Ace.

"Hi-five" I commanded.

Ace just looked at me.

"Hi-five" I commanded again.

He continued to stare at me.

And I swear, all of the sudden, I saw impatience in those eyes.

Along with a little embarrassment and defiance.

Hey, I've had 4 teens, I know that look when I see it.

I sat there with my hand in the air "hanging" (yes, it's even awkward with a dog).

And Ace continued to stare at me.

Then he looked over at Nae.

Then back at me again with the same impatient-embarrassed-defiant look.

As if to say "Enough all ready! This is the lamest trick ever! How many times are you going to force me to do this? It's embarrassing!"

I'm sure if he could have rolled his eyes, he would have.

He never did preform "Hi-five" for Nae last night.

But he has done it for me today.

I'm pretty sure he is humoring me.
It was a pretty stupid trick after all.

how people find my blog (ie. weird google searches)

2010-07-01T08:01:00.002-05:00

When I started getting more serious about blogging someone kindly told me about Site Meter. It's a service that helps track visits to your blog.

I have the most basic level of this service (which is the free-you can spend money and find out a lot more!).

Site Meter lets me see how many visits I have per hour and per day. How long visitors looked at my blog and how many pages they looked at.

Sometimes I can see the country, state and city the visitors are from.

Sometimes I can see how they were referred to my blog.

What has been fun is seeing what words people type into google and end up here.

Sometimes it can be a little confusing (and disturbing)

I thought I'd share a few with you today.

Some gave me a chuckle and I hope they give you one too. (and there's nothing else going on today...)

my comments are in red.

~"I'm gonna blow my diet on vacation and die" (I know that feeling)

~"I got disowned now what do I do?" (it depends...if it was your teen disowning you then I say celebrate...you're doing something right!)

~"I lost my high school yearbook and now I can't find my mojo" (poor guy, I'm quite sure they didn't find any mojo here)

~"how to get back at your friend who is a *%#@&$!" (Yikes! I don't think I've ever talked about that before!)

~"the mission has failed, tell Sally I love her" (is this a song lyric or something?)

~"how to disown my daughter" (kinda sad)

~"all i wanna say is that we are going down" (hmmm. lyric again?)

~"things that make me angry" (does this have something to do with parenting teens?)

~"are doughnut trees real?" (uhhh, DUH! of course!)

~"that blog people like in kalamazoo" (I'm flattered but I'm sure not everyone in kzoo likes it, probably just my dear friends)

~"what's that foul odor is Kalamazoo?" (gosh, I glad I'm not there to smell it)

~"skinning a Kenyan goat and cutting up a Belgian sheep" (now that's a little scary!)

***and my all time favorite!***

~"Are there any cool people left in Kalamazoo?" (I know quite a few, actually.)

a quick pizza puppy tale

2010-06-29T19:41:00.002-05:00

I was told by a couple of my readers that they miss my Ace stories.

So here's a little puppy tale for you guys.

I'm still calling Ace a puppy.

He's not quiet 11 months now.

And I have to blame his escapades on puppyhood.

Otherwise, it's just bad training...which would be my fault.

Anyhoo, this escapade involves pizza.

One of the things my family really misses about kzoo is the pizza.

See, there is no cheap pizza around here.

And I'm cheap (there I said it).

When you have four kids who eat a ton, and usually have a friend or two over, who also eat a ton, feeding them pizza can make any wallet cringe.

Needless to say, since we moved here we haven't order pizza very often.

It has become a treat.

At this stage in our household everyone has different work schedules so most nights dinner is usually set out and you eat when you can (if there is any left when you get home).

It was a busy Friday night and everyone was coming and going. The Hubby and I were the first to eat and left to run some errands.

After that the story gets a little hazy.

No one wants to take the blame for being the last one home.

The last one home is supposed to put the food away and put Ace in his kennel.

And somehow that didn't happen.

When the Hubby and I got home we found empty pizza boxes. Some on the floor, some still on the counter. Along with greasy puppy foot prints every where.

And a very guiltily looking Ace.

Everyone was pretty mad. Especially me. I'm usually guaranteed leftovers since none of the kids like mushrooms on their pizza.

Not this time.

Ace was pretty thirsty that night and I grudgingly had to get up a couple times to give him water and let him out.

But what really made me mad was the next morning.

I'm sitting on the couch enjoying my morning cup of coffee when I hear Ace chewing on something.

I look over behind the coffee table and see Ace finishing up a piece of pepperoni and mushroom.

He doesn't notice me watching him because he reaches his nose under the chair and pulls out another piece.

And happily continues his picnic.

After searching the living room I found three separate "stashes" of pizza under chairs and couches. Most of which was the remainder of my pepperoni mushroom pizza.

Well, at least he know how to savor a good pizza.

ps...I just looked on google and saw that mushrooms are toxic to dogs....it's been a couple weeks, he should be okay...right?

where's the delete button on this thing?

2010-06-28T11:51:00.005-05:00

I was invited to a lovely garden Bible Study last week.
I was invited by this nice woman that I met at one of the dog parks Ace and I visit.

I was telling Mac about it the other day and she asked me who I went with.
"Kathy" I said.
"Kathy who?" Mac asked.

Blank.
I got nothing.

And adding to my distress, it seems the harder I concentrate on what I'm trying to remember, the father it gets sucked back into the depths of my murky mind.

She told me her last name the day I met her.
She said her last name when she called me.
I heard her last name a dozen or more times that morning while people introduced themselves to each other.

What is it with my memory?

It wouldn't be so frustrating if there was this general forgetfulness for all things.
But what really drives me crazy are the things that I do remember.

Completely useless things.

Like my address and phone number of the house I grew up as a little girl.

Or the word for word conversation of an old high school boyfriend pointing out my "flaws".

Or pretty much every annoying song from the 80's. (and some 70's songs....who needs to know all the words to Copacabana anyways?)

Things that I wish I could just delete.

You know make some room up there for the important stuff.

If anyone out there knows how to do this please let me know.

21 years ago today...

2010-06-24T16:28:00.003-05:00

Today is the anniversary of my sisters death.

I'm thinking about her a lot today.

I have some new readers since I wrote this post in October so I thought I would just re-post it.

My sister Alex <--click there

Have a good weekend everyone!

learning from my kids

2010-06-23T08:37:00.005-05:00

A friend of mine keeps reminding me that I need to "live in the moment".

See, I'm a bit of a worrier.

I know I shouldn't.

I know it doesn't help anything.

I know it takes away my joy for today.

But I still do it.

I won't even tell you the things I worry about.

It would be too embarrassing.

But I will tell you that most of my worry revolves around my kids.

Obviously.

What mom doesn't.

My kids are healthy and happy right now.

That is huge.

So today I choose to live in the moment.

And not worry about what might (or what I know will) happen tomorrow.

I will enjoy watching them making their own choices.

Having fun.

Living.

Laughing.

Loving.

And maybe I can learn to follow their examples....

why I love Cedar Point

2010-06-21T10:36:00.000-05:00

I just got back from my annual trip to Cedar Point.
My brother and I have been going there every year since 1979 (I've only missed a couple times).
We are both roller coaster fans.
Not over the top kind of roller coaster fans~ otherwise we'd probably be going to other parks just to ride different coasters.

Both of us have been to other parks, but there is something that keeps us going back to Cedar Point each year.
For me, other than number of great coasters, it's the sentimental feelings I get from going there (another aspect of my warped sentimentality?...).

Jason and I always have fun reminiscing as we walk around the park.

Remembering the year the Gemini opened. The thrill of that huge wooden coaster. Racing friends in the other car and reaching out over the tracks to slap hands. Laughing at how everyone ducks their raised hands when you go under that one set of tracks that you would never really touch anyways. How we had to wait in line for 3 hours for a coaster that you can now walk right on.

Or the year the Top Thrill Dragster opened.
If you don't know about this coaster, it's called a "Strata Coaster" because it is the first coaster to top 400 feet (420 ft actually), and it has a hydraulic cable launch system that launches riders from 0-120 mph in less than four seconds. It takes you into a 90 degree climb up a hill, twists you 270 degrees and drops you down the other side to hit 120ish miles a hour again. The whole ride last a whopping 17 seconds. Here's a little video of it.

Anyhoo, my brother and I had just entered the park and we were at the base of the ride watching it (it's even fun to watch). The coaster launched and went into it's climb up the hill. As the car climbed the hill you could tell it wasn't going fast enough. It didn't make it to the top of the hill it just hung the on there for a second and started falling backwards. My brother and I both started screaming thinking that we were witnessing some horrific death scene you see in the movies.

We didn't realize the coaster did this sometimes (actually quite a bit the first couple of years that the coaster was getting it's bugs worked out).
But we laugh about the terror we felt that day.

We also like talking about the rides that aren't there anymore. Like that round ride that you stood against the wall and it spun and the floor dropped down and you just hung there.
It had a metal floor and a hose nearby...I have never seen so many people throw up on a ride as that one.
Ah, the memories.

Every year we wonder if the park splurged and bought new uniforms for the kids working there. And every year the answer is 'no'. I think they have had the same hideous blue and red jumpers since 1979. I have never seen an employee that actually looks good in it.

Maybe they make them wear them to cut down on the kids fraternizing with each other.

People watching is always fun at Cedar Point. Every year I think that I have now seen it all, only to be shocked by something new the next year.
Kinda like going to Walmart or the county fair but because of the water rides inside the park there's even less clothes.

A couple other things....the roar of the coaster as it goes by....my once a year treat of an elephant ear....

But my biggest reason for going every year is spending time with my brother.
I can honestly say the thing I look most forward to is hearing him giggle as we go down that first big hill of a coaster.
It's the same giggle as when we were kids.
I actually close my eyes and take it all in and suddenly I'm a preteen again and life is simple and carefree.

another one of those "duh!!" moments with Ace

2010-06-14T11:10:00.000-05:00

I admit, I make a lot of stupid mistakes with Ace.

Usually, it's something I decide to do without thinking it through completely.

And most of the time, I have some lovely image in mind of how things are going to go that are completely unrealistic.

Call me naive.

Like the time I thought it would be fun to take Ace to one of Tony's track meets.

I saw a lot of dogs at the first one that I went to.

In my mind I pictured Ace sitting there watching all the kids run around, Tony bringing his friends over to show off his cute dog. A nice, peaceful day sitting on the grass with Ace beside me, instead of him being locked in his kennel while I was away.

Problem is, Boarder Collies are herding dogs by instinct.

There happens to be a lot of kids "running around" at a track meet.

um. yeah.

It was like torture for Ace (and me as I struggled to restrain him).

Duh!

I could give you quite a few other examples, but I won't embarrass myself.

But I will tell you my "duh-moment" this weekend.

There was a dog show in town.

Nae went and saw it the day before and said a lot of people brought their dogs to watch.

I thought it might be fun to bring Ace.

This is what I pictured in my head.

Ace watching the show.

Taking notes.

Thinking to his doggie self~"hey! I bet I could do that!"

then we'd go home and he'd be eager to learn a bunch of new tricks.
(I'm kidding...please tell me you know I'm kidding)

There were lots of cool tricks....like this.

or this (look at the height on this one!)

Instead our time at the show was chaos.

The hubby fighting to hold him back (the picture doesn't do it justice)

I'm pretty sure Ace thought he was going to a new dog park and couldn't figure out why we wouldn't let him off leash so he could go play with the other dogs.

People were starting to look at us funny.

Ace was actually flipping in the air and twisting on his leach as he tried to get over there.

The Hubby did get him to settle for a few minutes and watch.

but this lasted just long enough to take a couple quick pics.

by the end we were all hot, sweaty, and exhausted.

I'll just add it to the list of my duh moments.

yes...I'm that easily manipulated

2010-06-09T11:08:00.004-05:00

I'm a little surprised that my two older kids didn't figure it out first.

Nae is pretty smart and Bud has the ability see into the heart of anyone.
But it was Mac who stumbled on my weakness.

She is, after all, my third child who I'm ~~blindly stumbling~~ leading through this jungle called teenager life.

And Mac is especially good at putting on the charm and talking me into doing what she wants.

Let's just say that she "has a way of putting things".

Today she found a whole new way to manipulate me.

The unborn grand kids.

Yep.

Today she teasingly told me if I let her do what she wants I can have extra time with the grand kids.

Mac: "Come on Mom! Let me go PLEASE!!! I'll let you see my kids twice a week."

Me: "What?!!" (I was a little shocked. I had to take a moment to collect myself...I had never thought of tactic before) That's all I get?! How much do I get if I don't let you go?"

Mac: "Once a month."

Me: "What?!! I was planning on living next door to you and seeing them everyday! How could you do this to me?"

Mac: "Ha! yeah right!" (she thinks I'm kidding)

You will all be proud of me. I didn't give in.

I'm holding out for at least four days a week...

poor babies

2010-05-24T13:57:00.008-05:00

I had my first experience with the twins being sick last week.

Maybe it's because it's been 14 years since I had a little one around, I don't know. But I hang my RN head low when I admit that it took me all day to figure out they weren't feeling well.

I probably should have noticed something wasn't right when they slept an hour longer for their morning nap (I was ecstatically doing laundry).

I should have had a clue when they didn't want to swing in the baby swings at the park.

this is a different "happy day" at the park...I didn't take pics of them crying

Or fussed over their afternoon bottle.

It finally dawned on me when they slept for another 3 hours and woke up feeling warm to the touch.

Of course, they didn't have those fancy ear thermometers when my kids were little and all my rectal thermometers have since disappeared (maybe it was after one of my kids used the wrong one to take his own temperature orally a few years back---"you put this where?!!!!" he said disgustingly--like I never cleaned it or something).

So I ran next door and asked my neighbor if she had an ear thermometer I could borrow. Her youngest is 5 so after a few minutes of searching she gave me an old one and said "I don't have anymore covers for it and I don't remember how to work it. Good luck."

I took it home and replaced the batteries and finally figured how to get around the "cover missing" error and got it to read.

The only problem was I couldn't (for the LIFE of me!) get it to switch to Fahrenheit.

Another shamefully nursing admission was I couldn't remember the formula to convert it.

And my Internet was down that day and my math genius daughter wasn't answering her text.

I was pretty pleased with myself when I found a way to figure it out.

It was about the same time that the Hubby called.

After relating my story of not being able to find a thermometer in our house to the whole Fahrenheit conversion mystery....which was (in his defense) a little long and he probably wasn't paying very close attention to my story due to the fact he was busy at work...

I triumphantly exclaimed "So I finally got out the meat thermometer....."

"You what?!! You can't stick a meat thermometer in a babies...."

"No!!!!

I used it to convert the temperature from Celsius to Fahrenheit!"

"you want to stick that sharp pointy thing where?"

Kids and work

2010-05-15T18:11:00.008-05:00

I'm very excited that my oldest daughter, Nae will be living with us for the summer.

She got an internship as an environmental engineer in downtown Chicago.

She's been home now for a couple of days and I'm loving it.

We took the train into the city this morning to get the timing of the Metra down and to see exactly how long it will take her to walk from the station to her office.
Her office is only two blocks from the train station but the train ride is over an hour each way.
It will make long days for her (leaving the house at 5:20am and getting home around 6pm).

But she is pretty excited.
And so am I.

Or I should say I'm pretty nervous.

I asked The Hubby if he was nervous. He said "no".
I asked him when he thought I would stop getting so nervous about our kid's first days of work.
He said "probably never".
He also said I should only be nervous about their first day of their first "real job".
That if you screw up and make a bad impression on the first day of your real job it can haunt you for a long time.

Now I'm still nervous and have something to look forward to when my kids get "real jobs".

Speaking of first days of work, here's a picture of Mac just before she left for her first day of her VERY first job. She is a hostess in a restaurant.

I always take a pic of the kids on their first day of their first job.
It's a tradition. Just like the first day of school picture.
And they love it just as much.
As you can tell by Mac's "hurry-up-and-take-the-stupid-picture" smile on her face.

And yes, I was super nervous for her that day.

I had a really great picture of Nae on her first day of her first job.
She was working for a civil engineering company and had to wear one of those cute hard hats while on the construction site. I got a picture of her in that. You'll have to trust me when I say it was cute because it mysteriously disappeared.

Anyhoo, it was a really nice day. We went out for lunch and The Hubby gave us a mini tour of the surrounding area.

We saw some interesting variations of panhandling that I've never seen before.

Not your normal signs like the one this weirdo is holding.

The first one we saw said this:

GIRLFRIEND KIDNAPPED BY NINJAS. NEED MONEY FOR RANSOM AND KUNG- FU LESSONS

The next one we saw said this:

NOT GOOD LOOKING ENOUGH FOR PROSTITUTION. NOT SMART ENOUGH TO STEAL. I NEED SOME MONEY PLEASE HELP.

These guys looked pretty young and clean cut. I'm wondering how much money they actually pull in a day with these kinds of signs. And if this turns out to be Tony's first job (which is the first thing I thought of when I saw them...I have no idea why) I won't be nervous or taking any pictures.

Magpie #13

2010-05-09T09:30:00.002-05:00

Go HERE for more Magpie Tales.

Stella leaned back in her chair, or at least as far as her corset would allow. She enjoyed observing the guests around her long dinning table. Her secret to throwing a successful dinner party was not only her unpredictable sense of humor but how she could feel the flow and movement of the evening. She sensed that tonight's party would be in need of more than a little assistance.

To her the dinner party was a symphony and she took a moment to loose herself in the performance. Voices no longer formed words but joined in the concord of sound taking the form of the strings and winds. The china and crystal became the percussion. And the staccato of laughter quicken the tempo always enriching the texture of the movements.

She knew that her symphony had already played out the first movement, the animated talk around the table, the quick steps of the servants as they circled the table attending to each guest. But now silk gowns began rustling as the women stirred restlessly in their chairs signifying the second slower movement. To keep the evening interesting, they couldn't linger on the Adagio where satisfied appetites and drinks could lead to lethargic guests. Parties were much more enjoyable when the evening ended with a lively minuet.

Stella was the conductor and it was her job to keep the symphony moving. It was time for the group to move to the parlor for after dinner drinks, conversation and cards. This was her favorite time of the evening but as they settled around the room she felt the awkwardness hanging in the air like an atonal instrument. (she should have never invited the Hamiltons and Wellingtons to the same party!). The tempo continued to falter after the dull story told by Mr. Brentwood.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures" was her thinking as she excused herself for a moment to the side bar where champagne was being poured into crystal flutes by James, one of her servants. She had only done this once before.

She removed her glass eye (the result of a childhood injury) and placed it in one of the glasses of champagne. She whispered "James, give this one to Mrs. Brentwood."

Perennial Pete strikes again

2010-05-06T19:28:00.006-05:00

This weekend is "garage sale weekend" here in my neighborhood.

I've only held one garage sale in my life.

It went like this....

I took a couple days off work.

I spent hours and hours doing the following~

*cleaning my garage and covering things that were not for sale.

*hauling out tables, digging through boxes in storage.

*sorting through clothes, toys and miscellaneous junk.

*folding, more sorting, pricing.

Then stood there for 2 1/2 days while strangers did the following~

*they riffled through my stuff.

*they unfolded and tossed things all over.

*they insulting me by saying that 25 cents was too much for that dress my 6 month old only wore once.

*they relentlessly haggling with me on things that were priced for 50 cents and less.

In the end I made a hundred bucks.

Then I had to haul all the unsold stuff to Goodwill.

It was torture.

I figured if I had worked my normal nursing shifts I would have made multiple times the money I made at my sale. And I could have just donated all the stuff and saved myself a lot of work and grief.

That's what I did from then on.

So when the garage sales happen in my neighborhood I just go about my business and try to be patient.

Yes, patient. Because we all know what it's like when there are garage sales in your neighborhood. All these perfectly normal people come into your neighborhood and instantly turn into "bargain-hunting-neck-craning-not-paying-attention-to-where-they-are-driving-can't get-to-the-next-house-fast-enough" bad drivers.

That's what was happening this morning when I went out to take Ace for a walk. Not only were people driving distracted but they were parking all over the place.

And this is where Perennial Pete comes in. If you don't know Pete or need to refresh your memory you can go HERE HERE and HERE oh and HERE

As you remember...

Pete doesn't like people to park in front of his property.

Pete likes to yell at people when they park in front of his property.

Pete insists on calling the police when he doesn't feel people are listening to him when they are parked in front of his property.

And that was how it went for Pete today.

Some of my neighbors were NOT amused.

The police were NOT amused.

I heard all about it today and started to get a little angry at Pete.

Then this evening I was sitting on my front porch relaxing when I saw Pete opening his gate across the street.

He yelled over to me "Do you want to come over and see the peonies?" (I haven't talked to him since the last time I blogged about him).

And so I went over.

I introduced Ace to Pete.

We went on a mini tour of his property and looked at all the blooming tree peonies. He has them in every color you can imagine. Multiple shades of red, pink, white, purple, and yellow (I didn't know the color of yellow even existed).

We talked and he picked me a bouquet of lilacs and quizzed me some more on my knowledge of herbs which I was about 50/50 this time.

I think we can find something in common.

We both hate garage sales.

I've decided that I like Pete.

lunch with Nae and Bond...yes, that Bond

2010-05-04T22:00:00.000-05:00

We had a busy weekend here.
It was prom weekend (hopefully, I'll get around to blogging about that later).
And it was the weekend Nae was moving out of her house at college.

Most of her housemates graduated and are going on to be "real adults" with real jobs.

Nae has another semester before she earns her environmental engineering degree. She will be living in a different house this fall with a different group of people.

A very bitter sweet time.

The Hubby couldn't be here because things are a little crazy at work for him right now so I took the train over. My dad and step mom, Ann agreed to help and met me there.

My dad rented a U-Haul and we loaded her things up to bring back to our house. Not sure where we'll put all this stuff!

It all went pretty smoothly.

Here are all the girls that have lived together the last few years.

Here are the "packers and movers" (minus grandma and grandpa).

After we finished, we headed over to a place (that's pretty well known in these parts) to have lunch.

While standing in line, one of Nae's friends came out of the restaurant and told us that Pierce Brosnan was eating there.

Nae, Ann and my dad decided they wanted to get a peak at him so they left while I waited to put our orders in.

A few minutes later they returned.

Nae was so excited "It is him! And grandma talked to him!"

"Really? What did you say?" I asked.

Ann says "Well, I went up to him and said 'we are trying to be polite and discrete but we are wondering if you are really the Pierce Bronson whom you look like?' ". And then he said "yes I am." and I said "well, it's really nice to meet you!" and then he shook my hand!"

Ann was smiling and so pleased.

Until I said his name is Pierce Brosnan. Not Bronson!

http://www.thecinemasource.com/moviesdb/images/PierceBrosnan1-300.jpg

ok, so maybe he is smarter than I thought...

2010-04-29T09:44:00.018-05:00

I've been trying to get Ace to swim.

The main reason?

I heard it's the best way to tire him out.

And my furniture legs will thank me.

The first day we went out I forgot my camera.

So these are pictures from our second attempt.

I found out that Ace has an amazing memory.

The first day we went out,

I got him in the water by throwing a stick out a little farther into the water each time.

There was a little "drop off" a few feet out where it got deep real quick.

We were having a great time when I threw the stick a little too far.

Ace went out after it and sank.

He swallowed a bunch on water and came out coughing and sputtering.

He wouldn't go back in anymore after that.

So here we are on day two.

He was a little hesitant to go in but finally did.

He has the stick on the first throw.

He did well for a few more throws but then

I threw it a little too far.

He says "Nope! Not gonna get it"

Turning around

and leaving it.

and giving me a dirty look for loosing his stick.
But then he did something that surprised me.

He got out of the river and watched the stick.
He noticed that it was blowing back toward shore.

So he ran up the side of the river to the next open area.
To see if it was going to be close enough.

He quickly calculated currents, wind speeds, and angles...
and choose the opening two places down.
um... yeah.

and he waited there.

and sure enough, here it comes.

He looked at me like this when he got out.

This isn't a look of pride "look-at-me!" look.

This is a "don't-you-ever-do-that-again!" look.

How do I know?

He wouldn't give it back.

and then he snuck up behind me while I was enjoying the view

and did this.

but it was worth it.

teens that are too polite

2010-04-24T08:56:00.005-05:00

Tony had some new friends over after school yesterday.

Two of them came home with him after track practice. One of them, let's call him "Eddie", I picked up from his home.

The reason I'm calling him Eddie is because he reminded me of Eddie Haskell from Leave it to Beaver.

I didn't think of him like that immediately.

The first thing he said when getting in the car was "Thank you so much Mrs. Z (dang blog privacy thing again) for coming and picking me up." and I thought "what a polite young man."

I didn't even think that after he thanked me two more times before we got to our house.

I still wasn't thinking that when we got home and he thanked me profusely for the snacks and pop I had set out for all of them.

It was when we got in the car again to take them to our little village square so they could hang out with some other teens. "It's really nice of you to give us a ride Mrs. Z, thank you!" he says.

Tony, obviously annoyed, says "why do you keep kissing up to my mom?"

I'm a little shocked Tony has said this "Tony! He's just being polite! Maybe you should learn to be a little more polite"

And this is when he becomes "Eddie" to me...

he says (in a perfect Eddie Haskell voice) "Yes, Mrs. Z. Don't you find that teenagers can never be too polite?"

I said I didn't and we talked a little more on the subject. But the rest of the evening that conversation and his tone kept gnawing at me.

I decided two things

1. Teens can be a "little too polite" and

2. I don't trust that kid.

magpie 10 watch

2010-04-19T18:32:00.012-05:00

Go HERE for more Magpie Tales

**sorry my spacing is messing up. I have no idea why I can't fix this**

Watch Me

Watch me Mommy!

Her brow scrunched in concentration

as she knots the bunny ears of her laces.

There's hope in her eyes when she turns to me

that I will be amazed by her talent

and I am.

Watch me Mom!

I hold my breath, forcing myself to not cover my eyes.

His bike wobbles for a moment

but his grin never does.

When he stops he waits for my cheers

and I do.

Watch me Mom!

She twirls in the pink leotard

she so carefully picked out.

The cartwheel she turns are followed by a

proud "ta-da"

Her eyes find mine in the crowd to see my pride

and I am.

Watch me Mom!

He jumps on the trampoline

double back flips.

My last child to ask for my attention and praise.

I realize I need to savor these moments

and I do.

new dog park

2010-04-19T11:07:00.022-05:00

Ace and I were home alone this weekend so we set out exploring Saturday morning.

We discovered another leash-free dog park.

This is the fourth dog park that I've found.

Chicago burbs do an amazing job with their parks but when it comes to dog parks they don't advertise about them.

They are kind of hard to find.

I've searched on-line and only found two (a couple of the ones I already knew of).

The best way to find them is by just talking to people.

After I found this place, I was so excited that the next time I was at the dog park near my house, I started telling people about it.

No one knew of it's existence.

So I will keep talking to people and seeing what other places we can find.

It's kinda like a treasure hunt.

This park that I wanted to show you today is definitely a treasure!

It doesn't look like much when you first walk in.

lots of trails and open spaces.

I need to remember to bring Ace's ball next time.

Lots of little hidden trails leading to secret places.

Ace loves to run and explore them.

and then you come over the hill and get a peak at the river.

This is where it get really fun. Ace can go into the water (he's still a little timid about that)Ace loves this fence and all the "dog smells"

It's a big loop with lots of trails going off in all different directions.

This is the view as you head back to the entrance.

But my favorite part is all the flowers and trees all along the paths.

The rest is just pictures I took along the trails for you to enjoy.

Have a happy spring day!

I love dog parks

2010-04-18T08:16:00.011-05:00

Ace and I have been spending lots of time at the dog park.

He loves going.

I love him not destroying my house.

I thought I'd bring my camera yesterday and take some pictures of all the different dogs.

I'm always amazed at the variety of breeds.

And it's always kind of fun trying to guess what breed a dog is before you talk to it's owner.

But yesterday was a beautiful day and there weren't many dogs there.

Everyone was probably home doing yard work (which is what I should have been doing).

Aces favorite thing to do at the dog park is find another "puppy" that likes to wrestle.

This Shar-pei, named Zeus, was the same age as Ace and he decided to give it a try.

Zeus didn't have the stamina that Ace has so he quickly came up with a game plan.

When he needed a break he would go hide under the picnic table...

then after he was rested up

he would run as fast as he could and throw all his weight at Ace

and he would go for the jugular.

But Ace quickly found Zeus' weak areas too.

All those extra rolls of skin were definitely Zeus' downfall.

the best smell in the world.

2010-04-13T09:49:00.004-05:00

I've blogged before about one of my favorite blogs, Forgotten Bookmarks.

I wasn't exaggerating when I said how much I love this blog, but now I love it even more.

First of all, what could be better than old and rare books?

But then add in the things he finds in these old books and it's like a little treasure hunt.

And then! He started holding give aways!

I try and enter them all and last week I finally won!

My books arrived yesterday. I was just heading out to a dentist appointment and there they were, right on my door step. I couldn't stand the thought of not opening them immediately but I didn't have the time so I took the box with me.

I drove a little faster than normal to my appointment so I would have an extra minute to peak at them. So, in the parking lot of my dentist I opened the box and sat for a moment and enjoyed the smell of my prize.

Yes, I said "smell".

Old books, not only are they beautiful to look at but they have the best smell in the world.

I will die! if you don't....

2010-04-08T08:08:00.007-05:00

"Lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part."

I first saw this quote when my Nae was a toddler. A friend had it framed and hanging in her kitchen. This friend is one of those mom's who seems to have it all together, all the time. She took me under her wing when I was a young single mom who didn't have a clue about anything, let alone being a good mom. She taught me a lot not only by word but by example. I would watch her with a kind of awe.

There's nothing that I ever wanted more than to be a good mom. It's obviously a hard thing to measure and one of my many weaknesses is being extremely hard on myself. Believe me, there's no one more critical of what I think, say or do than the little voice in my head.

It's also extremely dangerous to ask your teenage kids what they think of your parenting skills. I can't tell you how many broken hearted mom's I've heard recalling what their child said when they asked this question. Of course most teens will have a list of ways you can improve. They spend all kinds of time thinking about how unfair their parents are and how their life "sucks". It's a teen thing. In reality they are immature, have little life experience, and have no idea of the emotions, situations, or choices you as an parent have to face. You are only setting yourself up if you ask them that question.

That being said, if I were to die today, I feel I've done a pretty okay job. Yes, I've made lots of mistakes and I have lots of weaknesses (especially in the discipline area, for example) but that's the beauty of having a second half. Where I am weak, The Hubby is strong. And vice versa, of course.

All this serious talk aside (yes, I'm rambling) I think that if my "Wonder Mom" friend were to see me now, she would see that I have failed miserably when it comes to her quote. I hang my head in shame, as I admit, I am one of those parents who are constantly running things to their kids that they forget. Lunches, field trip money, gym clothes....you get the picture.

Yes, I've read all about the damage I am doing by allowing this. You don't need to tell me.

Each of my kids are forgetful (or unorganized) to a certain degree. Nae~only when she was overwhelmed, Bud~very rarely, Tony~once every couple of weeks maybe, and then there's Mac~oh! Mac!

The quote above seems to be written just for kids like Mac. You know, kids who are on the "dramatic" side. Most of the phone calls I get from Mac regarding this subject are frantic. Here's how one went that I got yesterday....

"Mom! I forgot _______! I will DIE if I don't turn it in today! I'm serious I will DIE! Will you please bring it?!!"

Mac has been working in the counseling office at school this semester. She was working when I went in there yesterday on this "emergency forgotten item" call. All the office ladies had obviously already heard of Mac's crisis.

"So....you're Mac's mom." the lady at the front desk said (I get this tone and look of sympathy a lot when first meeting Mac's teachers or coaches or friend's parents). All the ladies sitting at their desks behind her look up at me and nod their heads in some kind of understanding or something. (In Mac's defense, they all told me how much they love her and how much she makes them laugh.)

Mac rushes over from her desk and takes what she needs from me. Her friend Emily, is sharing her desk. She also thanks me for bringing it (so she wouldn't have to hear Mac lamenting all day about dying!!!).

That was yesterday, and wouldn't you know it, I get another call today. This one was more like "I will FAIL....blah, blah, blah"

I got the call right after she got to school this am. I thought to myself "I'll just jump in the shower and then run it over" but then on second thought.....

I went into the office this morning in my PJ's just hoping it would be the time when classes are changing. The ladies in the office seem so sweet and understanding (they DO work with teens all day).
I said "yes, I got another emergency call this morning. I don't want her to die!"
"Oh, well yes" she says in her sweet understanding voice "well, when does she need this?"
"Not until last hour" I said. "I could have showered first but I was hoping you guys could help me out. Could you just tell her how lovely I looked in my PJ's? Make it sound like I looked really embarrassing (I did). Maybe throw out the name of one of the cute boys in the school and say that I had a lovely conversation with him in the hall."

Who knows, maybe this will be the last call I get.

Magpie #8

2010-04-05T21:47:00.003-05:00

The Painted Eggs

Anushka Petrov adjusts the shawl around her stooped shoulders. Her feet shuffle to ease the pain in her lower back as she escorts her young visitor to the door. They walk silently through her antique filled house. She knows there is no need to continue the conversation. She has seen the "look" before. He is hooked.

She shouldn't have waited this long she thinks as she closes the front door. The pain has never been this severe. But as usual she struggles to justify what she is about to do. Back in Russia the woman who had passed on the eggs had started when she was young and so the eggs helped her to stay that way. Anushka had held on to them for over 50 years before finally giving in and finding her first victim.

She had been taught by her predecessor how to lure them in. Back then they couldn't just wait and hope someone would come by. Since she had moved to America 75 years ago it was much easier pickings. Since the invention of the Internet it was almost too easy.

She knew enough to keep her advertisements varied, to draw her victims from different areas, and to choose from diverse groups of people. That had been the down fall of her predecessor, who was burned at the stake. Not that they were witches. They didn't cast spells or have any so-called powers. She was just the possessor of the eggs. She didn't have to do anything but invite them to come and then it only took one look.

She heads into the dinning room where she keeps her collection. All four walls are lined with shelving, floor to ceiling. And on those shelves are thousands of painted eggs. Each egg has a person painted on it and in the background is that person's home. She has eggs with people from all different areas of the world with all different kinds of scenery. A man next to his small stone cottage surrounded by beautiful gardens. A woman in a long flowing gown in her ballroom. A woman in her apartment with the city showing through the windows behind her. A man in front of his minka style home in Japan. She doesn't really like to look at them. She doesn't like that she has taken them away from their lives and homes. She doesn't like to think about the hurt their loved ones must feel.

But her pain always speaks loudest. Shouting at her to focus on what needs to be done.

She walks over to the one window in the dining room, slides the lock over and opens it a little. She has learned it's best to make it easy for them. After the victim has looked at one of the eggs (and it's not always the same egg, the choices seem to be random) they are overwhelmed by the need to possess the egg. It becomes an obsession that takes over. Some will ask to buy the egg on the spot, some will come back later to make an offer. Unfortunately, the only way it works is if they are stealing the egg.

She visualizes the man who just left. He will be coming through the window later tonight. She sees him going over to the egg he has chosen. It is the one with the man hunting a bird in front of his log house. She knows as soon as his fingertips touch it he will disappear and a new egg will be next to the one he coveted. And her pain will disappear at that moment too.

As she switches the lights off and goes to her room, she thinks about picking up the phone and calling him. Telling him that she will sell him the egg after all. She has no idea what would happen then. Is she willing to take the chance that her pain will get worse? Or worse yet...death someday?

No she will let him come. She will let her collection grow at least one more time.

click HERE to read more Magpie Tales

the lost art of map reading

2010-04-01T08:18:00.005-05:00

Newly licensed Mac, was telling The Hubby and I about some of her driving experiences last night.

She doesn't have Tony's gift of direction and got pretty lost the other night.

"Maybe you should just take my GPS" I suggested.

"Maybe you should just keep a map in your car." The Hubby said.

"A map!?" Mac laughed "Nobody uses a map anymore! Reading a map is a lost art form."

The Hubby and I looked at each other with the "is this kid serious?" look on our faces.

"Besides," she continues "I don't even know which direction to point one of those things!"

I'm pretty sure I know where she got her sense of direction...

have a great day!

Magpie #7 Daffodils

2010-03-30T08:27:00.002-05:00

You know the routine by now. Go here if you want to read more takes on this weeks Magpie prompt.

Daffodils

Flowers. I never paid them much attention. But one of the things my wise mother taught me: "every man must know his gal's favorite flower". So I know all about the Daffodil.

I bought her thick bunches of them when we began dating during the spring of 1999.

They were in her bouquet when we married the following spring.

She planted them around our home to greet the warmer weather each year. They lined the sidewalk that leads up to our front door. She scattered little groupings throughout the flower beds surrounding the front of our house. But her favorite Daffodils are planted out back in the flower beds near her three season porch. There, if the temperatures are warm enough, she will open the windows while she drinks her morning coffee just to smell their fragrant offerings.

I brought her home a bouquet of Daffodils the day after she told me the news that we were going to have our first baby. Cost me a pretty penny considering they were out of season. She smiled while inhaling deeply and said "Do you realize that the baby is due in the spring? Maybe he will be greeted by our Daffodils when we bring him home."

And he was. But by that time I had come to hate those Daffodils.

Modern medicine shouldn't allow women to die during childbirth. I didn't even realize that kind of thing happened anymore. We entered that hospital holding hands, full of happiness and anticipation.

I left hollow, alone and empty handed. Our baby boy would stay a few days just to make sure he was okay. I had "arrangements" to make.

The funeral home was full of Daffodils. It seems everyone knew it was her favorite flower.

While standing at the grave site, I noticed Daffodils growing on other graves here and there. Their yellow faces all seemed to be turned in our direction offering their condolences.

Some of the Daffodil arrangements were brought back to our home after the funeral to sit on the counters and tables during the meal someone planned after the burial. I don't know who did all these things. I was living in a blur.

Our baby boy had come home that same morning. My sister-in-law came with me to pick him up. Made sure we had all the things we needed to bring him home. All the things my wife had lovingly picked out for him.

She stayed for a few days. Taught me all the things I needed to know to take care of a newborn. I know it was hard for her to leave, but she has kids of her own and a husband to care for 6 hours away.

I don't know how many days had passed. My days and nights were a blur of feeding, diapering, and crying (the both of us) but that night my son had been crying for what seemed like hours. I couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. I was exhausted. As he screamed in my arms, I looked over at the vases full of Daffodils. And my anger grew. I realized that over these days as I sat caring for my son in my living room I was watching those Daffodils wilt and slowly die.

I hated those flowers right then. I hated how they had made me witness to another death. I hated how they seemed to mock me, reminding me that I didn't get the chance to grow old with my wife.

The anger seemed to be taking over. I wanted to shake my son to make him stop crying. I wanted to punch something. I wanted to die.

With tears streaming down my face, I laid my screaming son on the floor and walked out the door. I went into the garage, picked up a garbage can and then stepped out into the cool night. I walked over to the front of the house and looked down at the dying Daffodils. Most of the flowers were dried, brown and scattered around the bases of the stems. Some still hung from their stems grasping for one more day.

Angrily, I grabbed the first stem and pulled. It snaps off at the base. This only infuriates me more. I dropped to my knees and dig my fingers into the dirt, grabbing hold of the bulb and yanking it from the ground. I leaned over and whip it into the garbage can, hearing the satisfying thump of it hitting the metal bottom.

I reached into the dirt for the next bulb. I notice the days warmth in the dirt as my fingertips close around it. The warmth of life. Like the life that was ripped from me I'm thinking as I pull the bulb out of the ground and hurl it into the metal can.

I work on my hands and knees like this until I had ripped out every bulb around the front and sides of the house. I was headed to the back yard when I suddenly remembered my son. I had been so consumed by rage and focused on one thing that I forgot I had left him on the floor crying. I realize now that it is quiet and suddenly I have a feeling of panic in my chest.

I let go of the garbage can full of Daffodils and run into the house. There is my son on the floor where I left him sound asleep. His face is blotchy from all his crying. As I stand over him drained of anger, I see my wife in his face. I drop to my knees and sob into my dirt covered hands.

A year has passed.

I am sitting on the back porch in the sunshine enjoying a cup of coffee and the smells of the Daffodils that are still planted around the three season porch. My sons toddles over to me. There is dirt smeared on his chubby cheeks and a big smile on his face as he offers me his prize.

"Oh! That is beautiful son! You picked one of mommies flowers! But let me show you how to pick one the right way." I point to the dirt covered bulb dangling off the bottom of the flower. "We want to keep this part in the ground. So that they will come back every year."

As we dig in the soil to replace the bulb, I talk to him about his mother. At that moment I decide that this fall my son and I will start replacing the rest of the Daffodils. I will tell him stories of his mother while we do it. Hopefully, he will develop a love for the Daffodil just like his mother and I.

my lovely day spent with an axe murderer

2010-03-28T10:19:00.012-05:00

the Field Museum

When I announced to the Hubby that I was going to meet one of my bloggie friends in real life, he wasn't very pleased.

He actually gave this "look" that said "are you crazy? you've got to be kidding!" and didn't say anything else (or maybe I didn't give him the chance). I immediately blurted out "it's not like she's an axe murderer!" and he responded "I was thinking more along the lines of a chain saw." Mac was a little more vocal about her concerns (surprised?) and insisted I take her pepper spray along for protection (which I forgot).

But I wasn't going to be talked out of it.

rxBambi was one of (if not the first) of my non family/ friends followers when I started blogging. And I've been a loyal follower of her since then too.

one of the lions outside the Art Museum

Plus my thinking was "we will be in downtown Chicago at some public places, what's the worst that could happen?"

The thing I worried about most was acting like a total looser and not knowing what to say. I'm not a very funny/ quick witted/ talkative person in real life. I consider myself a pretty quiet loner type who loves to just look and listen to the people and things around her. So needless to say, I was pretty nervous.

We made plans to meet at Shedd's Aquarium. And Bambi brought her teenage girls along. Turns out she was a little concerned I might be an ax murderer too!

I made the silly decision to walk from the Metra station to Shedd's. It seemed like it took forever (or maybe I was just anxious). By the time I got there Bambi and the girls were already in line (a huge spring break over an hour long line).

Shedd's was crazy busy and I figure Bambi had all kinds of opportunities to ditch me if she wanted to (just kidding she would never do that). We looked at as many fish and avoided stepping on hundreds of little kids as is humanly possible, and then left for lunch.

After lunch we headed over to the Field Museum and met up with (a couple more would-be-axe-murderers) her cousin and his girlfriend. The Field Museum was much less crowded and laid back for just walking around and talking.

I love this statue

After that we started walking back towards the hotel where they were staying. We had a nice time seeing some of Chicago's sights, taking some pictures and talking. Bambi is a really good photographer and has a nice camera, I just took a few.

a little more close up...

We got some cool pictures at "The Bean" which I won't post because they have her girls in them and I don't think she posts pictures of her girls.
I really enjoyed meeting her girls. It was fun talking to them and hearing about their take on life and their plans for the future. They are a couple of amazing kids (and I'm not just saying that. really.).

I had a great day and I'm hoping we can do this again soon!

see...she doesn't look like an axe murderer at all...

A new "baby" in the family!

2010-03-26T15:27:00.000-05:00

Imagine my surprise to find out that Mac is like me when it comes to sentimental feelings for cars (the first of my four kids that I'm aware of). If you're new to this blog you can read about it here and here.

The Hubby has been looking for a car for her for quite some time now. Just a few days ago we found a great car newly listed on-line and we jumped right on it.

Mac saw pictures and immediately fell in love.

Right away she began talking about whether the car was a boy or a girl and what to name it. That's when I knew....she is just like me! and I felt my chest swell with pride and wiped a tear from my eye.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about or have never known the joy of naming your car then I'm not sure I can explain. Obviously, your car has to have a name when you talk to it while driving. And if it ever gives you trouble, gently cooing it's name while rubbing the dashboard always helps.

My first car "Betsy" would cough and sputter when going up large hills. Most mornings she would grumble and groan and refuse to start without a little sweet talk. I'm sure that if she didn't hear all my words of encouragement she never would have made it the many years that she did. I will never forget that horrible day when while driving her pieces just started falling off and she started leaking fluids (We can all image how terrifying it is to get old and start losing some of our "parts" and leaking "fluids").

She had a good run.

RIP Betsy.

We decided Mac would have to drive it first to really know if it's a boy or a girl and maybe the name will come after she figures that out.

When we went and looked at the car a couple days ago the man selling it said it was his daughters car that she got when she was a teenager. He said that she was probably going to cry when it sold. I knew right then and there that this was the car for Mac. You could tell just by looking at it how loved it had been. We assured him that we would love it and take very good care of it.

Hubby and Mac went last night to pick it up. I was dropping Bud off for a spring break mission trip. I wish I could have been there to witness what Hubby described to me later. He said the daughter was there to say goodbye to the car. She told Mac how happy someone was going love it as much as she did. That's when Mac blurted out "is it a boy or a girl and did you give it a name?". The girl seemed so happy and answered "yes! It's a girl and her name is 'Baby Saturn'!".

She then proceeded to show Mac all the details of the car and how everything worked. Mac was so excited and happy.

I have no doubts that it is the beginning of a beautiful relationship!

On a bit of a sad note....

To make room for the new "Baby" we sold "Midge"

sniff. sniff. We didn't have her for long but we all loved driving her. She is going to a great home where she will be loved and restored! Goodbye Midge!

Sweet 16...

2010-03-25T09:03:00.001-05:00

Mac turned 16 last Friday. I didn't get a chance to blog for her birthday because this weekend was spent running her all over the place to celebrate. I'm sure she was very bummed about that. Um, yeah.

We went to the Illinois Secretary of State so she could take her drivers test.

We had all kinds of issues getting her drivers permit when we first moved here. There was a bunch of confusion because she took drivers training in Michigan (but hadn't got her permit) so I would talk to one person on the phone and they would say "yes, it transfers" and then we would go into the Secretary of State office, wait in line forever, only to be told "no, it doesn't". Then I would be sent somewhere else...blah, blah, blah....it's a long story and not worth going into. Let's just say it took weeks and it was very frustrating.

So Tuesday, we go back to the Secretary of State and for some reason it's all messed up in their computer system. We are told that we may have to go back to the school (because they do their drivers training through the school systems) and start the whole run-around again! After much arguing and one very nice young lady who took 40 minutes (after her shift was over) to make some phone calls, we finally got the "go ahead" for Abbey to take her drivers test.

That was until the lady behind the counter asked if both of my license plates were mounted on my car (front and back). Shockingly, I had procrastinated on getting the stuff to put the front license plate on my car (hey, it's only been 9 months!). Mac gave me a look of "fear and I'm gonna kill you" with a little "you are so embarrassing" (I think every look she gives me has a little of the "you are so embarrassing" in it--it's a reflex).

I told her I would take care of it while trying to act like I wasn't panicking inside (she would kill me! How many 16 years old want to wait an extra day to get their license?) I'm thankful there are men out there who always have duct tape handy.
I was going to post a picture of my tape job, because I thought it turned out quite lovely, but then I remembered the whole blog safety privacy thingie.

Mac on the train going into the city to celebrate

After waiting a total of 2 1/2 hours they called Mac's name. I jumped up to the counter and the lady looked at me and said with a chuckle "you can't go with her".

I was pretty shocked because in Michigan the parent rides in the back seat which seems like a pretty good idea. You know, if your kid fails the test it's a good thing to be there and witness why they failed.

I can only imagine how many parents sitting in the waiting area have a hysterical kid come back from the road test and are trying to comfort them while trying to find out what happened from the test giver.

With my other two older kids I dreaded the road test. The tension is so high in the car and my "mommy instincts" want to kick in and try to make it better some how but you have to just sit there and be quiet (automatic fail if the parent talks or gives direction in Michigan). It's torture.

But I'll take that torture any day over sitting there for a half hour wondering. There were two other parents sitting there with me. A big guy with his daughter who kept pacing and had a nervous laugh and a petite lady whose eyes were as big as saucers and she looked like she might vomit at any minute. I tried to lighten the mood by saying they should at least serve us parents some alcohol or a Valium or something. The big guys just continued pacing and laughing his nervous laugh and the petite lady just got up and moved down a seat. I guess it wasn't funny.

Through the window I could see Mac skipping to the front door. An obvious sign that she passed.

She didn't want to drive home "I have too many phone calls to make" she said. So I spent the next 30 minutes listening to "guess what!....I got my license!.....shut up!.....I know!....." over and over again.

Mac and Sarah figuring out the bus system

All I can say is I'm glad it's over. Only one more kid to go....

Oh yeah! and Happy Birthday Mac!

Magpie Tale 6

2010-03-23T11:43:00.001-05:00

A late Magpie entry.
Things have been a little busy around here but I wanted to try and get this written this am. Once I started writing I had a hard time keeping it short. Ugh!
Go here if you want to read other entries.

Nails

The white and crisp pages that I've inserted into the old diary are almost full with my story. I couldn't bear to write in Eliza's original. It felt some how disrespectful, but I wanted to keep record of our journey, Eliza's, Ava's and mine. I decide to read over today's entry one more time before turning the lights out for the night.

June 5, 2011
Dear Ava,

It's hard to describe the strong emotions I felt when I was presented your rusty nails today. When the man entered the room in his black suit and a sober look on his face, I thought he was being a little over dramatic. But when I opened the small pine box and looked at the nails I was overwhelmed with feelings.

It has been a long journey since that phone call from the airport executives. I'm still amazed they were able to track me down. And then the discovery of the box of old diaries that belonged to great great grandmother, Eliza, in the attic of a distant cousin.

Eliza didn't want you to be forgotten and you won't be.

I couldn't resist the urge to look back at an old entry of Eliza's.
So much for sleep....

April 5, 1849
Dearest Ava,

Today your pa and I leave for the Oregon Trail. I can't stand the thought of leaving you behind, alone. So many times I have questioned our decision to make this trip, but the plans had been made and the money spent, long before the accident. I would forget the whole thing and stay here in Illinois if I could, just be near you. But it is impossible. One thing that brings me some peace is knowing that you will have a proper burial site, not an unmarked grave on the side of the trail somewhere. You will not be forgotten.

Love,
Ma

I turn a few more pages back....

March 28, 1849

Dearest Ava,

Today pa and I laid you to rest. Pa built the coffin that holds you. You know how talented he is with woodworking. He put a lot of love into it and it turned out so beautiful. We are also going to have a nice headstone made for you. The cemetery is a small one just started up by a church here. I know it will be well taken care of....

I shake my head thinking of the years of controversy surrounding the moving of this cemetery. I had read about it in the Chicago Tribune. I never thought I had a connection. As far as I knew, most of my family was from California. I had just relocated to Chicago for a job two years ago when I got the call that I had an ancestor buried there.

I turn the pages of the diary back to the days after the accident.

March 25, 1849

Dearest Ava,

My heart is broken, but I must write. I will write no matter how difficult because I want to hold on to every memory of you. Today is the end of a very long three days. We have been waiting and praying that you would recover. It was not meant to be. I will never forgive myself for allowing you to go with pa to practice with the new wagon and team we just bought for the trip. Then you would be safe in my arms today. Now my arms will forever ache for you.

I look over at the pine box I received today from the people handling the cemetery relocation. Eliza will be happy knowing that Ava's final resting place will be near her after all. Even though all that is left are the rusty nails from her coffin.

The Art Student- A Magpie Tale

2010-03-16T06:00:00.001-05:00

I'm trying to get back into the blogger mode. Here's my second attempt at a Magpie Tale. If you will remember, Willow over at the blog Magpie Tales inspires us by giving us a picture to write about.

This one is much shorter (but still a little dark).

Hope you like it.

The Art Student

He tried to steady the charcoal that he held in hand. Holding it up to the blank paper on his easel only caused it to shake more violently. He moved the paper to his lap thinking he could contain himself better that way, only to have his legs join in the tremors that seemed to be taking over his body.

He had expected excitement, but not like this. All the human body sketches he had done previously were done with wooden mannequins. This was the first "real" person that he would be able to study and draw. No hinges, screws or wires to ignore, only smooth pale skin. The thought sent a shiver up his spine.

He was ready to prove them all wrong. The fancy art schools that wouldn't let him in. Said he didn't have the talent. Just wait till they see his genius now. Not only had he been practicing his art every waking hour but he had the ingenuity to find a nude model that he didn't have to pay or allow breaks. He could draw her all day (and night, if he found he couldn't sleep again).

All it had required was one night, a fresh grave, a shovel, and a little back breaking digging.

"Yes", he smiled, taking a deep breath to calm himself, "I'll show them."

It's been a long three weeks

2010-03-15T10:00:00.002-05:00

I obviously haven't blogged in a while.

Honestly, I couldn't concentrate to write.

Not to go into a bunch of boring details, but I've spent the last three weeks seeing a few different doctors and having and some tests done.

And waiting. Lots of waiting.

Oh.... and freaking out too! Thanks to talk of cancer by a couple of doctors.

But after lots of poking, prodding, x-raying, scoping, and CTing, the oncologist finally said no cancer-- just some weird allergy thingie.

Even though I'm a nurse by training, I truly underestimated the word "cancer". How even the prospect of it becoming part of your reality can throw your life into a tail spin.

It's amazing what the mind will do when it hears that word.

All the "what if's" enter your head, elbowing their way to the front of your mind. They compete for space forcing out any other thoughts, making it difficult to think straight.

The aches and pains of the past are recalled. They pull an "Arnold Horshack", raising their hand for attention shouting "Ooooohhhhh! Oooohhhhh! Oooohhhhh!" thinking they might be included in the strange list of symptoms.

And let's not forget "Fear". No matter how hard you try to keep him locked in that little room at the back of your mind, he still breaks free- tapping you on the shoulder when you least expect it and whispering "boo..." just to get your heart racing.

Of course, not all the stuff bouncing around in my head was bad.

Life is brought back into perspective.

The priority list is reconsidered, edited, revised.

Faith, family, friends, love....

A new appreciation for the little things is born.

I'm off to walk with Ace and look for the budding signs of spring.

I hope you take a second and look for it today too.

Poor Ace

2010-02-22T09:23:00.003-06:00

I just dropped Ace off to get neutered.

This was the look he gave me as I walked away. That "how can you do this to me?" look. I'm pretty sure he knows what's about to happen.

He sat at my feet while I made the appointment. Staring at me with those all knowing eyes and whining a little. I told the vet receptionist to hold on a second "what?..." I said to Ace "I gotta do it" I'm pretty sure the receptionist thought I was crazy.

This morning he seemed to have forgotten that today is the day. He happily jumped in the car and rode in his usual nose-to-the-windshield style. His way of beating me to where ever we are going.

When we pulled into the vet's office parking lot he suddenly seemed to remember. He didn't want to get out of the car and I had to drag him into the building. He usually likes going to the vet. He gets lots of cookies and attention.

Today he growled at the receptionist. She seemed surprised and said "hey! I didn't do anything!" I wanted to tell her that 'he knows' but she is probably the same girl I talked to before and I'm pretty sure she still thinks I'm crazy.

Ace then proceeded to growl at everyone who worked there, but not at any of the other patients or owners in the lobby.

See. He knows.

I left him with his favorite teddy bear and Kong chew toy. I was thinking about going out and buying him a new Frisbee.

I'm a little worried that he may never forgive me.

the unwanted theater experience

2010-02-18T08:45:00.001-06:00

http://myhaven.files.wordpress.com/2008/06/movie-theater.jpg

I finally broke down and went to see Avatar last weekend with my friend Gigi.
We decided to splurge and go to the IMAX.

I figured by now there wouldn't be too many people in the theater.
Boy, was I wrong!

Gigi and I got there early and listened to one of the guys who worked at the theater talk about the best place to sit in order to get the "best IMAX experience".

We picked our seats and all was well.
Then the theater started to fill....and fill....and fill.

Just as the theater lights were dimming a man and his wife scooted in front of us sat down next to me.

And I immediately noticed a horrible smell.

It was a combination of strong cigarette smoke and really horrible body odor. I thought to myself, "It will be okay. I can take it". That thought lasted about 30 seconds before I realized I couldn't do it.

So I scanned the theater to look for a new seat. It was packed. There were no seats anywhere.

I decided to try and put on some of my Bath and Body Works lotion to try and alleviate the stench. I nonchalantly applied it under my nose and around my mouth. It didn't helped much.

Then he started to cough a smokers cough of a magnitude that affirmed his habit. I'd estimate about 3 1/2 packs a day hacking.

Yeah. all with out covering his mouth.

Luckily, he only did this a few times but then there was the constant wheezing that accompanied each breath. By the time the previews were over, I had diagnosed him with emphysema.

I was praying under my breath that the movie would be really loud, otherwise I would never get my ADD mind to focus with all these other sensory distractions going on.

I'm pretty sure I sound intolerant, I don't mean to be.
Maybe it because of my ADD mind and having a hard time with distractions but this explains why I don't go to movies very often. I hate paying for the "theater experience" ($14/ticket) and getting more "theater experience" than I want.

You know,
~cell phones ringing, or the light of cell phones flashing while people text (which btw, according to some teens I've talked to recently, is perfectly acceptable to do in theaters because "it's not ringing!")
~people talking through the whole movie
~babies crying (never could figure out why people do that-bring a baby to a movie)
~people kicking you in the head when they rest their feet on your seat
~and now something I had never thought of before or experienced--hacking smelly wheezy people sitting right next to me coughing on me. YUCK!

I did finally get absorbed enough in the movie to forget the guy next to me but it took awhile. I'm going to say that it was worth it this time.
There are some movies you just have to see on the big screen.

The pewter cup

2010-02-16T00:17:00.001-06:00

Today I'm going to participate in something new. Something I've never tried before.

Willow over at Life at Willow Manor has started a new blog called Magpie Tales. She is helping to inspire people to write short stories and poems. She will be providing a picture as a prompt each week.

I've have never attempted to write a short story before and I will warn you, this story that I wrote is not like anything else on this blog.
I just looked at the picture and wrote and this is what came out. It's a little disturbing and different (maybe I'm reading too much Otin?). I almost didn't post it but I did promise myself to go through with this assignment (and not throw away what I write- which is what I normally do).

So...here's is this weeks picture and my attempt at a short story.

London 1895....Hettie

So 'ere we stand. All lined up in the main 'all. Lord Willard walks down the row of us servants, lookin' into each of our faces. Tryin' to see if there's deceit in our eyes and all the while Lady Willard stands there wringing her hands in worry.

I don't see the big fuss. It was a strange piece of silver that went missing. Never used. Didn't match all the other fine pieces in the mansion. Plain compared to the rest, seemed a bit older too.

Of course, we all know who took it. Maggie's responsible for polishing the silver every Friday. I, meself has seen 'er holding that same piece wit a trance like look on her face. But to take it? Everyone knows a job is 'ard to come by without a letter. She'll never find work again and all over a silver cup?

Lord Willard finishes with his questions and stares and dismisses us to our work. "Maggie, Lady Willard and I would like to speak to you privately in the study" he says when we all break from our line.

Maggie follows the Lord and Lady with the same look on 'er face that she's had for weeks now. We share a room upstairs, me and Maggie do. A couple weeks ago I find 'er sittin' on her bed staring at nothin'. And this is the way I find 'er lots of times since then.

I 'ead up to me room for a clean handkerchief right quick before I head to me duties. And there I find Chadwick, the Lord's butler, on the floor near Maggie's bed. Maggie's bag is already packed. She must know she's getting the sack. Chadwick has gone through 'er things and is now searching for a hiding place, perhaps a loose floor board.

Chadwick didn't expect me but he's not applogizin'. "Have you seen it?" he asks without getting up. "Only time I seen it is when she's holding it and polishin' it" I answer. "Well, she shouldn't be polishin' it. It's not silver, it's pewter and it's never been stored with the other silver. It was kept locked up in the Lord's secret safe. I don't know how she even knew of it's existence let alone stole it."

Just then we 'ear footsteps. Maggie is standing in the doorway. She has that crazy look on 'er face. The silver cup is in 'er one 'and and a big knife in the other. She is covered with blood. I back up into the corner and Chadwick is just startin' to get up when Maggie makes a growling like sound and starts attackin' Chadwick. I see me chance and run from the room.

That's when I see the smoke rising up the servants stairway.

I don't know how or why, but I'm the only one who makes it out alive.

New York 1995....Bill

"Tell me again Margret, how did you hear about this?" I ask my wife as we drive out of the city to an old estate auction. She has been acting strange lately. This auction is all she talks about, but in everything else she seems distracted.

"I stumbled on it online" is all she says.

"But you've never been interested in this kinda stuff before. Why the sudden interest in estate auctions?" All she gives me is a shoulder shrug. I can't figure her out lately. In the 25 years we've been married she has always been s focused, driven. As a modern art dealer in the city, she has decorated our home to match her tastes in her work. Antiques all of the sudden? And so absent-minded and day-dreamy?

She suddenly jumps to life "Oh, there it is! There's the place. Turn at the next street!" We pull into a side yard of an old farm house where cars are parked. Margret is out of her seat and opening her door before I can put the car in park.

She doesn't wait for me but heads straight into the barn where long tables have been set up with items stacked on them. I almost have to jog to catch up to Margret as she walks purposefully to the back corner of the barn. I notice that she doesn't even look at any of the items. She stops in front of a card board box filled with what looks like junk.

"What is wrong with you?" I ask her breathlessly when I reach her side. Margret doesn't seem to hear me. She is standing there staring into the box. "Margret?" She doesn't respond but instead slowly reaches into the box and pulls out a blackened cup by it's handle. She is holding it, staring at it when I say her name again.

She takes the cup and puts it in her purse. "What are you doing?" I struggle to contain my shock to a hissing whisper while looking around to see if anyone has noticed her theft.

"Let's go" is all she says as she turns to walk out. I attempt to keep up with her again as I bump into the people looking at auction items. She is staring out the windshield when I slam my car door. "What is going on? Why would you just take that? I will buy it for you! You don't have to steal it!" It is so out of character of her that I'm still in shock but the anger is starting to come now.

"You wouldn't be able to afford it." She spoke without breaking her gaze. "There is someone here that would have paid more than we would have be able to bid. I had to take it. Now let's go."

"No! We are not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on!" I am starting to yell now but she seems in a deep trance. "Margret!!! Look at me!!" Instead, her head snaps in the opposite direction towards two men who have just exited the barn. They are scanning the parked cars and immediately focus on ours. One raises his arm and points at our car as they both begin to run towards us.

"Go NOW!" are the words that come from Margret but not in her normal voice. It is an animal-like sound and I am so frightened by it that I don't think. Stomping on the accelerator so heavily my tires tear up the grass as the two men run after us.

Margret is turned around in her seat, trying to see if the men are following us. I have made multiple turns on back roads hoping to loose them. Twenty minutes later I pull the car off to the side of a dirt road. Attempting to gain control of myself, I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. "I don't think they are following us. Will you tell me what's going on now?" She has turned back around and her eyes are fixed again out the windshield but not seeming to focus on anything.

She suddenly turns her head towards me and there is a look on her face I don't recognize. It all happens so fast. A black car pulling up beside us. Margret pulling a gun from her coat. She leans across the seat in front of me firing her pistol. The glass breaking my driver's side window. The horn from the other car blaring as the two men slump forward, dead from her bullets.

Out of instinct and the terror of what I just saw, I throw the car in gear and take off, only traveling a few hundred yards before I slam on the brakes and open my door and vomit on the ground. I don't say anything. What is the use? She now looks catatonic.

After a few minutes she commands "Drive me to the ocean."

I'm the one that's now staring out the windshield, trying to clear my head. "No. I'm done." I have no idea what to do next but I'm not letting her decide. Margret slowly raises the gun to my temple and restates her command. I will not argue now. I don't know who this is. Who has possessed my wife or what has happened to her but this is not Margret.

The drive takes a few hours and the only time she speaks is to direct me. The wind that blows through my broken driver's side window add to my minds haziness. I can't focus. I'm not sure I even want to think. Margret has also begun to act agitated. She is moving restlessly in her seat and I see from the corner of my eye that her hands are shaking violently.

As we get nearer to the ocean I see that Margret has lead me to a boat rental business. She must have made arrangements ahead of time which only adds to my astonishment. Now I am beginning to understand why she brought me along. Before exiting the car she grabs a bag from the trunk that I didn't realize she had placed in there.

On the boat she continues to direct me. She is now pacing nervously from one side of the boat to the other. Her movements are twitchy and jolted. I can hear her talking to herself and making strange noises now and then. We have traveled a few miles out on the ocean when she tells me to cut the engine.

With shaky hands she opens her suit case and I see that it is filled with bricks. Margret is now sweating and she seems to be struggling to breathe. The argument she is having with herself is still in hushed tones but she winces and snarls with whatever she is fighting. The cup is still in her left hand that spasms as she tries to force it into the suitcase. She seems to be using all her strength to get her hand to release it there when suddenly her right hand grabs the gun from her pocket.

A look of shock and fright cross her face as she holds the gun to her own temple. That is the first sign I see of Margret, my Margret. I take a step toward her to help her and the look on her face changes instantly. "Get back!" it growls at me and swings the gun around to point at me and then it continues "I can see I'm better off keeping it pointed at her." The gun is repositioned at her temple as Margret's face distorts into an evil sneer and a cackle erupts from her.

Stepping back, I see Margret's features come over her face again and a determined look emerges. In her voice she screams a long drawn out "Noooo!" and hurls the gun into the water. After it is released from her hand the sound of the "no" changes back into the growl-like voice and she launches her body at me. Her hands grab my neck with such strength that I realize I can't pry them loose. I look into her eyes and see only evil.

I am loosing consciousness when I see her features change again and she releases her grip. Struggling to get up to help her, I see her closing the suitcase with the cup inside. I make it to her side in time to heave the bag over the side of the boat. It sinks immediately. Margret falls backwards with a thud onto the floor of the boat. She has passed out.

I'm sitting on the floor of the boat holding her in my arms when she comes to."It was the cup." she whispers in her weakness. "I can't explain it but some how it was calling to me. Over time it only got worse. At first I couldn't stop thinking about it, then it seemed to be directing me. That is when I started to fight it. I found I was strong enough but I also found that there was something evil about it, incredibly evil. I knew it had to be destroyed. If I took control of myself completely then it would just find someone else. I had to be the one, I had to allow myself to be lead to it, to possess it. And then it was so strong, it took over when I killed those men. Men who were there to destroy it too. At that point I thought that I was lost, that it had complete control over me. But I fought. I knew needed you with me to handle all the details so that I could focus, focus on staying in control. It's over now. I'm so glad it's over now!"

Margret collapsed in my arms and I gently laid her on the floor of the boat so that I could take us home.

Cape Cod 2025....Kim

My husband has been acting strange lately. This obsession with deep sea diving....

Valentine's Vacuum

2010-02-15T14:11:00.001-06:00

I hope everyone had a nice Valentine's Day.

I thought I'd tell you about the wonderful Valentine's gift my Hubby bought me.

It's a vacuum.

Yep, I'm pretty excited. My old vacuum broke last week for like the twentieth time and I fully expected the Hubby to order a new part and fix it like he always does.

My poor old vacuum was looking pretty sad. A hodgepodge of parts. Last year I let one of those "Kirby Vacuum guys" into my house (I know! I'm weak and it was really stupid. Good thing The Hubby came home and rescued me, kicking him out of the house). But anyhoo, this Kirby Vacuum Guy made fun of my sad old vacuum and it actually made me mad. Right at that moment I decided there was no way I was buying one of his fancy vacuum's, insulting something that's been part of my home for the last 10 years. We spent a lot of time together....you know how I am.

So much to my surprise, my hubby starts researching vacuums on the computer. You know, reading reviews, consumer reports and stuff.

We discovered that there are a lot of people out there that are passionate about their vacuums! Trust me on this. I read a couple of the reviews that talked about "sucking power" and the "sheer pleasure from using this vacuum". Some of the reviews were on the verge of getting kinda steamy (and I'm not talking about the vacuum/ steam cleaner combos)!

The Hubby spent an entire evening running around and finally brought me home my new vac. It's really nice. He got home late so I didn't get to try it out until the next day.

He was at work when the Valentine's Day gift subject came up with some of his coworkers. I guess he was getting a little razzed about buying me a vacuum for Valentine's Day. He was trying to convince them that I really wanted it and that I liked it. (I guess some women would kill their husbands if they got a vacuum for a gift--I know! crazy isn't it?).

It was right around this time that I sent him a text telling him that I had just spent "two hours in vacuuming bliss" and had to stop in order to get some other things done. I wanted him to know how much fun I was having using all my new attachments! I needed to tell him now...it couldn't wait till he got home....I might loose the excitement of the moment.

He shared my text with his coworkers. I think to prove that he did a good job on choosing my gift. I think maybe it just made me look a little psycho....

It doesn't really matter because it was one of the best gifts I've received....unless you count the rototiller I got a few years back.

Wimpy snow storms and earthquakes

2010-02-10T08:59:00.005-06:00

Well, the "big snow storm" we were suppose to have last night sputtered out...again.
Since we've moved here, we haven't really had much snow to speak of.

I'm not complaining, mind you.
But the kids hate it when all their friends are having snow days back in Kzoo and they have to go to school. Makes it hard for them to not miss Michigan on those mornings.

But I am starting to understand the "looks" and comments I got from some of the neighbors when they saw my snow blower from Michigan. "Wow. That's a really big snow blower you have there."

They all have these wimpy little blowers that are about 12 inches wide and sound like they run on the motor of a toy remote car.

We have a man size snow blower. You know, Troy-Bilt, Briggs and Stratton 9.5 horse power, 5 speed and 2 speed reverse, 26 inch auger. It's huge. Even has head lights (that's what I always tell people because I really don't know much about motors and such...head lights, now that's impressive!)

I feel like Tim Taylor when I use it. Tempted to make one of his husky "oh oh oh" noises and then point it over at my neighbors driveway and bury them.

But I've only used it once since we've been here. I actually like the peace and quiet of shoveling once and a while, especially when there's only a little snow.

The big news around here is the earthquake we had this morning at 4:00 am. The epicenter was less than 10 miles from us and it was a 3.8 (this has all been revised since this morning- originally they said 4.3).

All I know is that it scared the living day lights out of all of us.

I was asleep on the couch downstairs with Ace (long story, he's being a bit of a bad puppy) when the whole house started shaking. There was this deep rumbling noise and Ace was running in circles barking. It lasted about 5 to 10 seconds, enough for me to run around the house while things were shaking all around me, look outside, and then run upstairs. Hubby said "what the heck was that?" we couldn't believe it would be an earthquake. Earthquakes in Illinois? Whoever heard of such a thing.

One of our cats came from Tony's room into our bedroom. His tail was huge and all the hair on his back was standing up straight. It took me a while to find the other cat this morning. He was hiding in between some moving boxes in the basement. Poor guy.

Ace did the same barking running in circles at about 5:30 am again. The news said we probably wouldn't feel any aftershocks but I'm wondering if Ace did.

There were some pretty interesting stories on the Chicago News this morning from people saying their animals alerted them before the quake actually hit. Everything from dogs to cats to birds.

I wasn't sure if it woke the kids or not. None of them came out of their rooms but when I went to wake them up for school Bud rolls over, puts the pillow over his head and says "I'm tired, that earthquake kept me awake last night."

Like we had ten of them last night and it's nothing new to him.
Mac jumped up and said "was that an earthquake at 4 am?" and Tony said "my bed was banging against the wall and I thought it was the puppy".

I'm still shocked that none of them came out of their rooms, scared.
As for me, I made the Hubby hold me tight and fought the urge to go get all my babies and bring them into our bed (yeah I know they are all grown up size) and I really wanted Nae there.

I guess that's a mom thing.

The secret to Ace and the game of fetch

2010-02-08T12:34:00.006-06:00

Travis over at I Like To Fish got me addicted to this site where you can make your own motivational pictures. It's called big huge labs.

I wouldn't call my creations "motivational" but I had a lot of fun messing around with some of my pictures.

I think I've finally figured out what is wrong with Ace and why he won't fetch.

It's because he is male.

Plain and simple.

We were out on the golf course again yesterday, playing Ace's version of fetch. I have pretty much given up on him bringing it back to me. And I guess I could use the exercise. So we were getting into the routine of me chasing him around looking like an idiot.

All of the sudden Ace stops and growls. I look over in the direction where he's staring and see one of my neighbors has come out with her cute female pit bull and they are watching us. I tell Ace to settle down and I throw the Frisbee.

And guess what he does. He brings it to me perfectly. He actually places it in my hand! As soon as he releases it he looks over his shoulder at the other dog watching us, then back at me giving me the "throw it! throw it! throw it!" look.

I throw it again, afraid to hope that we are on to something. But he does it, he brings it right to my hand. I'm praising him like crazy but he seems more intent on looking at the other dog to see if she is still watching.

So that's how it went for the next ten minutes while the other dog watched. It was great! Picture the theme song to "Chariots of Fire".....Ace is running full speed. He is leaping gracefully in the air. He looks beautiful. He brings it to my hand each and every time. He actually leaps in the air and catches the Frisbee in his mouth for the first time!

I was so proud.

Then the other dog left.

And Ace dropped the Frisbee 30 feet from me again and gave me the "come and get it chubby!" look.

Stupid dog.

Here's one more picture I made with one of the twins that I thought I'd share.

Have a great day!

gotta get a dictionary.

2010-02-04T11:12:00.000-06:00

It's always entertaining for me to have all the kids together in one room and listen to them talk.

Over Thanksgiving break (yeah this is one of those posts that I started writing forever ago and kinda forgot about it and now since I have nothing else to say...well, you know) we revisited a conversation that we've had a few times in our house.

Tony claims that the meaning of certain words really don't mean much and you can insert them into any sentence at anytime and the meaning of what you are trying to say won't vary much.

Being that I LOVE words and finding out their meanings and discovering new ways to string them together to get a point across, I had to adamantly disagree (actually, this drove me crazy).

He choose the example "supple" for a word to be used anywhere and any time.

And for months now he will randomly insert it in sentences. Not very often. Just enough to get me to stop what I'm doing and give him "that look" (you know--the mom version of rolling her eyes but with a little bit of "I'm gonna smack you if you keep this up" look thrown in too--you know what I'm saying).

Then he gives me one of his "I'm the baby and I know you think I'm cute" smirks.

He uses it as an adverb:
"I ran supply today in gym class."

He uses it as an adjective:
"You should have seen that movie. It was really supple!"

He uses it as an interjection:
I'm showing him something in a magazine and he says "Supple!!! Mom, Supple!!!"

The worst part is I've never liked this word. As soon as I hear it always think of breasts. As in, "the woman had supple breasts". As in, large....I'm not sure where that comes from.

I thought maybe I should put a stop to this, you know, I didn't want Tony doing this outside of our home and offending someone (or maybe just because it bugged me so much). So I thought I'd look up the word just so I could explain it clearly to him.

And this is what I found....

Sup.ple:
adj. sup·pler, sup·plest
1. Readily bent; pliant.
2. Moving and bending with agility; limber.
3. Yielding or changing readily; compliant or adaptable.

I am so wrong about the meaning of the word. How did I come up with this? I guess it can be used in a sentence describing breasts but not meaning what I thought. Maybe I didn't pay as much attention in English class as I thought.

I don't know why this word bugs me so much (even more now). It grinds on me inside. I think that sounds crazy, but it's the way it is.

And of course, Tony probably realized this from the beginning and that's why he takes such joy in throwing it in when ever he can.

The whole thing reminds me of one of my favorite scenes from The Princess Bride.

Here's a little clip for you.

Oh, and I'm Vizzini....."Inconceivable!" I mean "How Supple!"

The Hubby figures out the secret to a long marriage

2010-02-03T09:23:00.001-06:00

http://enviroletbuzz.com/archives/images/2008/toilet_paper_correct_direction.gif

The Hubby and I are sitting alone in the living room the other day watching TV.

I don't even remember what we were watching. I don't really watch much TV. Hubby always has control over the remote. I'd rather read a book or some blogs or something.

This commercial came on for some toilet paper roll thingie. It spins on the wall so you can instantly change it so the flap of toilet paper is hanging either "over" or "under".

The Hubby gets my attention "hey look at this" just before they show it.

Hubby says "Did you see that?!"

I say "Yes....that is brilliant."

He says "We would never fight over how the toilet paper hangs again!"

I say "When have we ever fought over that?"

He says "I don't know. Which way do you like it?" (he should know this because I'm the ONLY one that ever puts a new roll on. I always find it sitting on top of an empty roll. I've asked him several times how come he can be in there forever and not just put a new roll on...)

I say "We've been married twenty years and you don't know? I like it to hang over the top."

(I also confess that in the past I've gone to peoples houses and changed it to the way I like it...you know, maybe they've never tired it that way and then when they see what they are missing out on they will be like "wow! this way is so much better" and then I will have made difference in the world....come on, don't tell me you've never done this.)

He says "Hmmm, I like it to hang over the top too! Maybe that's why we get along so well and have been married this long."

Yeah. I'm sure that's it.

Ace doesn't seem to have a preference.

I'm pretty sure it has more to do with the fact that I never ask for the TV remote.

I'm starting to believe my dog is just plain stupid

2010-02-01T14:40:00.000-06:00

Yes.... I've heard it a millions times.

I'll be taking Ace for a walk and someone will say "is that a Border Collie?"

and I'll say "Yes" and then they will say "you know, they are supposed to be the smartest breed of dog there is...."

My neighbor told me "they are the Einstein of the dog world" "off the chart when you compare other dogs IQ..."

Blah, blah, blah.

What I really want to say is "Well not this one! I think he might have been dropped on his head before we got him"

I even blogged about it before.

Here's some more of the things he has done/does and my thoughts at the time in italics:

~running full speed into the front porch step, which would hit him square in the chest and he would gasp. He did that over and over for months. "Oh, he's just a puppy...he'll learn."

~as he got older he would try and leap over the front step and always leap 2 or 3 strides too soon and smack his face on the step. He would also do when trying to get on the bed or couch. "maybe he has something wrong with his depth perception.... Do dogs ever wear glasses?"

~"playing" with the cat. He will stand there and the cat will be on his hind legs slapping the sides of Ace's head over and over. It's like a bad Three Stooges skit. "maybe he thinks this is how cats play?"

We did go to puppy kindergarten. And he did pretty good there, I thought.

The trainer there did warned us.

She told us to be careful, Border Collies are SO smart that they pretend not to get things just because they don't want to do them or to try and manipulate you.

I kinda wish I had never heard this.

Then I could go on just believing that I have a really stupid dog.

Instead I'm finding that I'm playing mind games. Trying to figure out what Ace is really thinking.

Not good. Here's an example.

It all has to do with fetch.

I have been trying to take Ace out everyday to get some exercise.

I've heard all about how if they don't get enough, they can get destructive.

So I decided the best thing for Ace is to go onto the golf course behind our house and play Frisbee. I figure I will throw the Frisbee, Ace will do a lot of running and fetching. Much better than just a walk on the leash around the neighborhood. Get those most out of our time out in the freezing weather.

All good except Ace has other ideas.

I throw the Frisbee.

Ace runs and gets it.
Then I spend 10 minutes chasing after him to get the Frisbee back.

"oh! I'm sorry did you want this"

So I'm thinking that he thinks this is a game (because he's supposed to be an Einstein- right?).

A game I really don't want to play.
I want him to be a normal dog. I throw, he fetches, we go home, he takes a nap and stops chewing on my furniture, the end.

So I quit chasing him. (that'll show him)

He still won't bring it to me.

Ace will run past me and leave it about 30 feet away and then crouch in his "I'm ready to go position"

If I don't go over and get it he starts whining. Eventually he will go over get the Frisbee and flick it in the air (like he's saying see this fun thing? I'll just have fun without you then.)

So I just stand there and watch him and he starts to whine louder pushing it around with his nose.

I have tried everything.

~Praising him continually as soon as he catches it and starts to run towards me....and stopping when he runs past.

~Praising him only when he gets near.

~Ignoring him completely

~Walking away

~Using my "stern voice" and saying "drop" or "come"

~Treats

this has been going on forever. No matter what he won't bring it back to me. And I don't give in. It ends up being a huge frustration. I only throw the Frisbee once or twice and we play battle of the wills the rest of the time and eventually go home.

"Frisbee? what Frisbee? I have no idea what you're talking about."

I've spent a lot of time standing on that golf course freezing my butt off trying to figure out what is going on inside his head.

I've come up with two possibilities

#1. He is just plain stupid.

#2. He is obviously concerned with the large amount of time that I spend sitting on the couch blogging and the lack of exercise I'm getting. He also notices the extra pounds that I've put on from not moving around enough and he is concerned about my health.

Yeah. and now I'm feeling pretty insulted.

I think it might be safer to go back to believing my dog is just plain stupid.

"I can do it myself"

2010-01-30T09:57:00.003-06:00

"I can do it myself"
those independent words making my heart swell with pride.
My two year old daughter's favorite saying when attempting some new feat.
Her face beaming with pride when she succeeded.

"I can do it myself"
those independent words bringing me frustration.
In a rush to get out the door, trying to be patient as she ties her own shoes.
I take a deep breath and release irritated sigh.

"I can do it myself"
those independent words forcing me to let go.
She is picking out her own clothes to wear to school.
I choose to say nothing about the plaid shirt with the striped pants.

"I can do it myself"
those independent words filling my head with worry.
Watching her pull out of the driveway on the snow covered roads.
All I can do is pray.

"I can do it myself"
those independent words piercing my heart.
Listening to her news of the plans she has mapped out for her future.
Knowing she no longer needs me.

"I can do it myself"
those independent words making my heart swell with pride.
She is an independent woman. Making her own choices in life.
Realizing that is what I intended for her.

for john

2010-01-29T14:50:00.002-06:00

I've had a blog request,

I've only done this once before.

It comes from my bbf Gigi's son.

His name is John.

John sent me some pics to go along with the post.

I think he's hoping to embarrass his little sister.

Actually, he's probably just hoping that she will slow down while driving.

Yeah, I'm sure it's all in love!

So this is for John....

I wrote it to the tune of Gilligan's Island.

I showed it to Mac after I was done and she says she doesn't know the tune.

Ugh! Teenagers!

Well, I'm not changing it now.

so for my teens readers out there...

if don't know the Gilligan's Island theme song then
~~you're lame~~ click here

ok so here you go John....

* * * * * * *

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
a tale of a fateful leap

That started on a snowy day

aboard this little "heap".

The chauffeur was a mighty driver,

with 11 months under her belt

and a passenger that she picked up that day

offering a ride to help.

she's always willing to help

* * * * * *

The weather started getting warm

the snow turning into slush.

if not for the skillful driving

the little heap would 'of been lost.

the little heap would 'of been lost

* * * * * * *

The heap's aground on some uncharted Pfizer land,
with Marie...

and Mac too...

a couple cute college boys stopping by....

two Pfizer "cops".....

a real close tree,

a helping dad and brother John

here on Pfizer land.

* * * * * * *

So this is the tale of two stranded girls

they were there for a long, long time

they had to make the best of things

because a tow they could not find

The offers of help were plenty

by each good Samaritan passing by

but when they realized how far they were stuck

they only waved and said good bye!

No daddies! No money! No tow trucks!

Don't want to pay for that luxury!

Like two typical teenagers

an accident they could never foresee.

So join me to tell these girls to slow down

and take winter driving seriously.

Because cars and broken tow straps can be replaced

but these sweet girls could never be!

Mac and medicine

2010-01-27T15:35:00.000-06:00

I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I haven't blogged about Mac in a while.

Truth is, I was banned.

It seems I may have offended her a couple times.

I apologized, removed the offending posts and tried to be a good blogger mommy.

But yesterday we had another visit to the doctor and my blogging restraint was pushed to the limits.

I should explain.

Every time I bring Mac to the doctor it's sure to be an "interesting" experience. But whenever we go to this "certain doctor" Mac is in true form.

I won't go into any detail but lets just say that we've been to this doctor numerous times since we've moved here and have tried several different treatments that haven't worked.

This doctor loves to banter with Mac. He will say something, Mac will sarcastically respond, he will throw it right back at her and then it's all down hill from there. All I can do is sit back and shake my head. The last time I had to get up and walk out of the room to get them to stop, otherwise, I think we would have been there all day.

In the elevator on the way to his office, I told Mac that I needed to pick up Tony in 45 minutes so I needed the appointment to be short.

Mac says "Oh, don't worry I was planning on keeping it short. I think my humor might be impairing his judgement. I need him to focus and choose the right medicine so I can get better."

Through out the entire appointment I was a little afraid that Mac would interrupt the doctor to say "focus!" because her promise of keeping it short lasted about 2 minutes and the wisecracks were being flung back and forth.

Unfortunately, Mac didn't inherit her quick wit from me and I had trouble just keeping up.

I do remember at one point Mac accused the doctor of trying to kill her and he thanked her for helping him appreciate that he only had boys.

Mac ~~cursed~~ assured him that one of his sons would end up marrying someone just like her.

I managed to snag the prescription between jests and when the conversation turned to Juno, Alaska (don't ask me how it got there, I never said a word) I stood up to leave. The doctor followed us to the check out counter to get in the last jab which I assume is a little unusual due to the surprised look on the receptionists face.

She is due for a recheck in 3 weeks.

I'm beginning to think Mac hasn't been cured on purpose....and I don't know if it's out of vengeance or that he enjoys her company.

I cry over the dumbest things!

2010-01-25T07:24:00.005-06:00

I know that I've blogged before about how I'm sentimental about some strange things.

They are actually a couple of my favorite posts.

If you missed them and you're interested (or really bored) you can read them by clicking Here and Here.

But this past week I started to think there is seriously something wrong with me.

I won't go into a bunch of sad stuff but let's just say it was a week filled with things that a normal person would have gone through the Kleenex in bulk.

Not me. I had nothin'.

It's not that I didn't feel anything. I just didn't feel like I could cry.

Then a few nights ago, The Hubby and I were watching TV.

Have you ever seen that show on TLC called Overhaulin?

If you don't know what I'm talking about, they "take" some one's wreck of a car (usually there's some sentimental feeling behind the car) and then they turn it into custom beauty.

http://www.blogcdn.com/www.autoblog.com/media/2006/06/overhaulin01-dok-71-challenger.jpg

And I'm on the couch boohooin' like a baby (and trying to hide it).

Afterwards, I really started to question if there is something wrong with me.

I can't cry at a funeral or with one of my hurting kids but I cry every time I watch this TV stupid show?

I know I've said I'm sentimental about my cars but that's usually because of the memories we've made as a family in them (I think).

It's not because I consider myself a big "car person". I wasn't a "gear head" in high school. I don't really know anything about them. I appreciate their beauty. That's about it.

So why do I have all this emotion around vehicles but not the normal stuff?

http://web.wm.edu/amst/370/2005/sp1/images/lucy%20doctor%20stand.jpg?svr=www

I think I forgot how to take care of babies

2010-01-22T17:32:00.001-06:00

I'm watching the twins again today for the first time in over a month.

I'm not sure why but I feel like I'm all thumbs today.

Fumbling like I haven't cared for a baby in 20 years....

Brogan began our day with lots of crying and a colossal-five-wipe-alert messy diaper.

He seemed really mad that it took me so long (like 2 seconds after he started screaming) to figure out he needed changing (hey! I was busy smooching those big chubby baby cheeks....give me a break!). By the time I got out the changing pad, wipes and clean diaper he was furious.

That resulted in him arching his back and kicking and screaming through the entire diaper change.

Due to my five-thumbs-today-handicap I ended up getting "it" all over the place.

I thought I saw a little diaper rash (maybe this is why he's so mad?) so I decided that he needed a little Desitin.

I kinda forgot, a little of that stuff goes a long way and with all the kicking and squirming, the thick white goo ended up on his legs, his chest, in between my fingers and under my nails. I tried wiping it off but that just spread it around. I tried just rubbing my hands together....it doesn't rub in. I think I see some in my hair now.

I had to lay him down to make his bottle which made him even happier and caused Marcus to join in the screaming. The can of powdered formula was bran new and I went to pop the top and it broke off. I had a moment of panic and images flashing in my mind of failing to pry it open, sliced fingers and blood squirting everywhere, screaming hungry babies and a humbling to call Brian and Amber. But the can opener worked just fine on it and all is well.

Of course, they both wanted to eat at the same time so I had my first experience of propping babies, balancing bottles, and tandem burping.

Just as we were finishing up the last few ounces and I swear I hear water running. I have not started any laundry today (I know that when I can actually accomplish something other than childcare on these days...I will be a well adjusted twin babysitter!)

In the past our washing machine hose has broke off and flooded the house and that is the first thing that I think of.

I gather both babies in my arms and run upstairs to check to see if it's the hose or maybe a pipe has burst (been through that too).

The noise seems to disappear upstairs. So we go back to the living room.

I hear it again.

We take a trip to the basement.

Gone again.

Back in the living room I realize it's this stupid thing....

Back in my baby rearing days we didn't have all these fancy noise making motion simulator thingies.

Doesn't he kinda look like Archie Bunker in his old chair?

It was a long day for Ace.
He needs his nap time to be uninterrupted.

I think at one point he purposefully barked to wake the boys up just for pay backs,
and of course I loved every minute of the day....

last vacation post....I promise.

2010-01-20T10:56:00.010-06:00

Just a quick post today.

A few more pictures from Cancun

and then I promise not to bore you anymore with my vacay.

my first time ordering Sushi.

it was good!

The Hubby on my favorite hole on one of the golf courses.

going out for dinner....

one of the many gators on the golf course.

I was amazed that some of the staff were diving for golf balls in the same ponds as a couple of these guys. Yikes!

cold but sunny....

so nice to see flowers during the snow months

These animals had a tail like a raccoon and are about the size of a house cat.

One of the staff said they are "like ducks". Didn't really know what that meant till he started to feed one. Suddenly there were about 50 of them coming out of the woods racing towards us.

One of the men that The Hubby golfed with one day told a story about them.

He said they had just got sandwiches from the club's "drink cart" and had left them on their cart to go hit a ball. When they turned around they saw a swarm of them attacking their sandwiches in their cart.

Check out those claws! Duck? I'm not so sure.

the ceiling at the spa...

Have a great day!

ten things I learned on vacation

2010-01-19T09:45:00.003-06:00

Our vacation to Cancun was our first experience staying at one of those "all inclusive" resorts. I wasn't sure what to expect but I did learn a few things from it....

1. It is possible to actually eat too much chocolate.

2. One week is not enough time to drink through the entire menu of pool side foofoo drinks.

3. There are crazy people who bring their babies to these places!

4. A one mile walk on the beach only burns about 100 calories, that's pretty much a waste of time when you're eating 10 million calories a day!

5. Speedo's are still popular with some 70ish year old men.

6. There some people with a disproportionate tooth to tattoo ratio who seem to visit these resorts just to be cruel to the staff.

7. Aromatherapy is my new best friend.

8. The chance to win a 50cent plastic Frisbee will cause some people to cheat on the pool side trivia game.

9. If you are just the right size, string bikini bottoms become invisible.

10. I love Mayan coffee!

Have a great day!

flying Forrest Gump style

2010-01-18T07:27:00.012-06:00

The Hubby used to travel a lot with his old job. Even though it's nice having him home now, I'm gonna miss all those frequent flyer miles we could use on vacations.

We used up our last free miles for this trip. And there was just enough left over to bump us up to first class....but only on the way there.

I've never flown first class before and I'm sure it probably isn't what it used to be but it was definitely nice to have the big seats, pillows and blankets, "first class" bathroom up front [sure I didn't have to share it with all the other passengers but there's nothing special about it....you can trust my professional bathroom connoisseur opinion].

The best part was getting on the plane first and not having to fight to stow your carry on.

To me, that is the worst part about flying, especially since they started charging to check luggage.

I wish they would start enforcing their rules about carry-on's. You know, one carry on that you can store over head and one you can stow under the seat in front of you. There are so many people who bring two HUGE pieces on the plane, shove them in the overhead compartment at the front of the plane as they head to their seats in the back. Then the people getting on later have no where to put their stuff and end up having to check it anyways.

They need to have the overhead compartments labeled with the seat numbers. You get to put your ONE carry on in that space only. Then have a stewardess at the back of the plane when you board who is watching these people who try and shove coats another piece of luggage up there and say "No I'm sorry, you'll have to check that if it doesn't fit under your seat." They can sit there with it on their lap until everyone else boards and then go to the front and check it.

I know it would take extra time, but it seems like it takes forever the old way with the stewardesses trying to move luggage around in the overheads and shove things in there anyways. We still had a line of poor souls who were the last on the plane and only had one carry on and had to check it.

The last time I flew, I was alone after helping Nae drive out to Colorado for her summer internship. I flew Northwest Airlines. They have this "choose your own seat" boohaha. It was awful. They still assign you a "zone" and a "number". You get called to board by zones then when you get in line they ask you to get in numerical order. I felt like I was in kindergarten again. Of course, I was in the last zone and the last number so I was the last one on the plane.

Our flight wasn't full, which in a "choose your own seat" arrangement is considered a nightmare. Trust me.

I looked down the center isle and there were open seats scattered through out the plane, but with at least one person sitting in each row. I looked into the face of the person sitting next to the first open seat. He was a big man who kinda reminded me of the boy who would throw rocks at me at the bus stop when I was a kid [yeah Kim, you know who I'm talking about :)]. He kinda glared at me and spread his big muscly arms out to demonstrate how my personal space would be violated if I chose to sit next to him.

The next guy who I looked at with an open seat quickly looked away and suddenly developed this phelmy nasty cough that he obviously couldn't possibly cover with his hand if I chose to sit next to him.

There was a woman who was knitting who decided that her yarn needed it's own seat as I passed by.

A teen who threw her legs over the next seat.

Some people didn't do anything but glare at me and give me the "I'll kill you if you take this seat" message.

Even though no one actually said "Seat's taken" I still felt like Forrest Gump on the school bus that first day of school.

And there was no "Jenny" volunteering up a seat.

http://media.photobucket.com/image/forrest%20gump%20images/uploader2010/snapshot20091030063117.jpg

I finally asked the stewardess to find me a seat "or otherwise someone is gonna hurt me".

I'm wondering if the people at Northwest Airlines who decided this "choose your own seat" was a great idea have actually tried it themselves....

I'm still here...

2010-01-16T09:46:00.001-06:00

Hi there bloggie friends! It's been forever since I've written anything. Thanks to you guys who are still checking in and for the notes on here and facebook telling me you've noticed my absence.

Christmas was a little rough here. All my kids, except Tony, were going through somethings that tugged on the mama heart strings.

Watching your kids hurt emotionally or physically is the toughest part of parenting. When there's nothing you can say or do to make it better. Knowing that it's part of life and it's theirs, and only theirs to experience and deal with, still doesn't make it any easier to let go.

Oh! How I miss the days of kissing the boo-boo, maybe a band aid, and we could go back to playing again....

But things are better here.

Nae is back at college and actively looking for her summer employment/ internship. She has had a couple phone interviews and we are excited to see where she will end up. We were hoping for something close to Chicago so we could see her more but she has some wonderful opportunities in other areas of the US. I won't lie, I'm thankful that it's the US this year and not Sudan again.

The other kids just finished up their semester exams and are breathing a sigh of relief that they made it through the first half of the school year in their new schools.

The Hubby and I just came back from a vacation in Cancun. Since the new job, The Hubby hasn't taken any time off (it's been over a year and a half I think). He really needed it!

Uncle Mark, The Hubby's bachelor brother took a week of his vacation time, flew up from Hilton Head and stayed with the kids and the puppy (I know! We thought maybe he was drinking when he agreed to do it!). He did an amazing job and the kids loved having him here for a whole week all to themselves.

I have some vacation stories. I'll tell you a quick one today.

We flew from O'Hare to Charlotte, NC then onto Cancun. I've never been to the Charlotte Douglas International Airport before. It was very nice. We came from a dark crowed O'Hare, filled with crabby people in extra long security lines (thank you Mr. Underwear Bomber) where flights were just beginning to be delayed because of a big snow storm--- to a big open cheery terminal in Charlotte, where the main area is full of windows, a man playing a grand piano, and rocking chairs to sit in the sunshine (or giant bean bags chairs to nap in).

But the best part of CLT....the bathrooms! Yes, that's right, the bathrooms. See one thing I haven't told you about myself is that I notice bathrooms. I enjoy finding nice bathrooms. It's kinda like a little treasure hunt. (if you're a long time reader of this blog, you may have noticed this fact in this post) I just didn't admit my gift back then. Yes, it's a gift really. Being able to find these "jewels in the rough" in some unlikely places. I like to consider myself a "Bathroom Connoisseur". I think it comes from my years of camping. My camping friend, Vonda, (and her husband, Dave, who we actually went on this vacation with) and I would try and pick our favorite camp grounds based on the "facilities".

So even though this bathroom wasn't a "jewel in the rough" because the whole airport was nice, I was still wasn't expecting what I walked into.

I happen to walk into the entrance of the restroom with another woman who I didn't know. We came in shoulder to shoulder and the first thing we see is a fancy little "spread" of mouthwash, breath mints, lotions, feminine products and a big tip jar FULL of money. I don't know if it was the shock of us both seeing all that money that stopped us in our tracks or the booming voice of the big black lady saying "Welcome to Big Bertha's Bathroom!!!"

We both hesitated and looked at each other for a second a little surprised. Then "Bertha" shouts at us in her southern accent "Come on, come on in! Don't be shy!" as she is waving us towards the toilet stalls. Then "Bertha" says "Everyone gets a seat in Big Bertha's Bathroom!" and she laughs this deep laugh while showing each of us to our own "seats".

The stall and everything in it was sparkling! And "Bertha" was waiting right there when I opened the door with a rag in her hand for a quick tidy up.

She continued to crack jokes and smile and "encourage" all of us ladies while we were in her domain.

Now I know why that tip jar was so full....and I couldn't help adding to it.

Christmas "firsts" and "lasts"

2009-12-27T08:08:00.010-06:00

We are having a wonderful Christmas here and I hope you are too.

Each year I think "this is my favorite stage of my kids lives" but then the next year I am surprised at how much I love the next stage.

I never thought I'd love the teen years. But I can honestly say that I really do.

The way they interact with each other (most of the time) is really fun to watch. We spend so much time laughing.

I'm not sure if having our oldest off at college has made us all appreciate "family time" even more or if it has something to do with the move to a different state, but the kids are close and seem to support each other and enjoy spending time together. Don't get me wrong, they still have their moments but the good ones outweigh the bad ones and those are the times I choose to focus on.

This Christmas as I sat back and watched my kids, I realized that this year there were a lot of "firsts" and "lasts" in our home. I thought I would see if I could write some of them out.

a first: having my children's "significant others" (ie. boy/girl friends) at our home during the holidays.

a last: having our kids all to ourselves....Nae spent part of Christmas day with her boyfriends family (which is also a "first" too) I guess I have to share right?

a first: my kids are finally enjoying family game time (in the past I always had to force them to play, now they actually ask to play).

a last: I think this may be the last Christmas that Tony runs around the house jumping up and down continually on Christmas Eve saying "Tomorrow is Christmas! Tomorrow is Christmas!" all of the other kids seem to have outgrown the "childish excitement" for Christmas....which is sad.

searching for the Christmas Pickle....it helps to tell them ahead of time that the prize is a gift card this year....

a first: Not having "what I want for Christmas" lists ten miles long from each kid. This year Mac's list was "a curling iron" and Buds list was "a DVD". Not fun to work with, especially when there are grandparents wanting ideas too.

I should mention that Tony only had one item on his list this year too....

a first: We will be meeting the parents of Nae's boyfriend today. Makes me feel old, but she is a senior in college so I guess these things have to happen soon or later.

a first: Having my girls help me in the kitchen (and not having to beg) and enjoying cooking together.

my girls....

Have a wonderful rest of the holiday season everyone!

Our Christmas ice storm

2009-12-24T11:06:00.006-06:00

We had an ice storm yesterday and last night.

I was out walking the puppy during all of this

(or slipping and sliding all over the place)

I must admit, when we've had ice storms in the past,

I usually just stay inside and cuddle under a blanket with a book.

But because of the pup,

this is the first time I've been outside and appreciated the beauty of an ice storm.

Not only visually, but enjoying the sounds.

As usual, with snow on the ground, all of natures sounds are muffled.

But with the layers of ice there is a constant crackling from the wind grabbing hold of the trees and shaking it's ice wrapped appendages.

I was surprised to savor the beauty and peacefulness of the storm.

It also caused me to be thankful for my life

and to think on the true meaning of Christmas, the birth of my Lord and Savior,

Jesus Christ.

Have a wonderful Christmas everyone!

birthdays and ovarian gymnastics

2009-12-16T21:15:00.001-06:00

Yesterday my oldest son turned 19.

I like to blog a little something for my kids birthday.

They like it too....

um...yeah.

I'm a little late (I babysat the twins yesterday).

Having those babies around does something to me.

It's hard to explain

it must have something to do with the ovaries or something.

I get this yearning,
the ovaries start limbering up,

stretching out the hamstrings, a couple of jumping jacks,

you know get the blood flowin'

(I think my male readers just logged off).

So I got out all the old photo albums and looked at pictures of Bud when he was a baby.
I could feel my ovaries heave a big sigh.

Really.

I was all sentimental and sappy and stuff.

The Hubs came home and saw the big pile of photo albums out

"why are all those out?" he asked....with a little bit of an attitude

...if you ask me

I wanted to say "duhhhh! It's our baby's 19th birthday

I'm having a maternal moment here!

Just back off!"

You know, if he can't figure out by now what it does to me when our babies get all "grown up"and stuff.... that it makes me want to pull out all the old photos and droll over those big fat baby cheeks and big blue eyes....

well ,it would be useless to explain it to his "maleness"

can I have an "amen" ladies?

ahem. maybe it's just me.

So anyhoo, yesterday I did a lot of page flipping and sighing and "awww"ing.

Me, the photo albums and my ovaries.

and I realized I do have some regrets (don't we all)

but my biggest is not appreciating it all more...

that, and not kissing those baby cheeks till they chapped.

my ovaries know what I'm talking about.

for Amber and Brian

2009-12-11T16:28:00.001-06:00

Life was going along rather smoothly at my new home,

I've almost got MY person trained.
Life revolved around me (as it should). MY person feeds me, plays with me, collects my poo (she seems to really like my poo-she grabs it every time I go! I know weird ehh?)

Then this morning....

then these strange things showed up at MY house.

for a while it wasn't so bad.

These things just made a few weird noises.

little squeaks and grunts

I decided to keep guard....

you never know what might be in those things.

then one of them made a horrible racket!

so I did what needed to be done.

I switched sides.

I'll guard the quiet one.

But then the one making all the noise stopped and the other one started!

and it got a little crazy.

and MY person pulled THIS thing out.

I'm not sure what is but it sure smells funny.

especially this end...

I guess this end isn't so bad, although MY person won't let me close for long enough to get a good smell and lick.

Then there was more noise from those things again....

and MY person pulled another one out (gosh! I hope there not anymore in there!)

and then the first one fell asleep on the chair

MY chair!

The one that I'm not even allowed to sit in!

so I show her!

of course she kicked me out!

unbelievable!

and they both started making a ruckus!

and MY silly person got into this contraption

I began to get a little annoyed.

How is she going to throw MY ball?

How is she going to pick ME up and carry ME?

So the best thing for me to do is remind her whose in charge here.

so I rang my "go outside bell" and waited.

I'll let her pick up some poo. Then she'll know who's #1!

Getting my Christmas spirit on

2009-12-09T11:05:00.001-06:00

I FOUND IT!

I decided that for me to get into the Christmas mood I needed to find my nativity scene even though I won't be putting it up (I will put it out Christmas day and just keep a close eye on it).

Well, then I had to take it out and look at it because it is my favorite Christmas decoration.

Then I thought maybe it would help get in the Christmas mood even more if I blogged about it.

Yeah, kinda lame, but did I mention this is my favorite Christmas decoration?

Like I mentioned before, it was made by a woman at my church back in Kalamazoo.

She is a weaver. She weaved all the clothes and dyed all the different wool that she uses.

This is Mary and Baby Jesus. Mary has some beautiful black curls (you can't see very well) and Jesus has some crazy hair going on.

This is Joseph. I love his curly beard.

Each Magi has a coordinating camel.

This guy has an awesome braid

Here's one of the sheep. They are very cute.

Here's a Shepherd holding a sheep.

I like him because of his very cool coat.

This is my favorite Magi. He's got some major bling going on.
Silk shirt and a little mink on his coat and hat.
Another cool thing about the lady that makes these is that she will incorporate any thing you want into your set. If you got some old jewelry from great grandma she can use it.
(last I heard she not making these anymore)

The detail is very cool. Each camel has a little pouch that rattles with something in it and a pack on their back with blankets. See the little tassels?

The donkey is my favorite (not sure why)

He even has the cross on his back (you know the legend that he didn't get that until after he carried Mary pregnant with Christ).

Yes, I'm feeling a little better about Christmas now.

And btw thanks for reading!

bah-humbug!

2009-12-08T11:56:00.004-06:00

I'm really having a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit this year!

Yeah, I got the tree up and a few decorations.

Maybe it's because I didn't put out half of my Christmas "stuff" this year because of the pup.

I'm really missing my nativity scene. I don't dare put it out.

It's all hand made by a woman from my church back in Kalamazoo who is a weaver.

The worst part is I'm not even sure where it is. I keep it in a separate box with cedar so it doesn't get eaten by moths.

I have a vague memory of showing to the mover guy who was packing my basement up and labeling it as an item to take "extra special care of". Um, yeah....

Or maybe it's because I haven't even started my Christmas shopping yet. I have four kids who claim to have no idea what they want for Christmas.

That is disturbing on many levels.

Yes, it would be nice to believe that they are just a bunch of sweet, selfless teens who are seeing beyond all the hype of the holiday season and are realizing the "true meaning" of Christmas. They don't need the stuff...

But that's not what I'm thinking.

I'm guessing that as parents maybe we give them too much year round so they don't "need" or "want" anything.

That or they are too lazy to figure it out.

They have grandparents who like to get their shopping done before all the last minute madness starts. A list would be nice for them too.

I'm almost afraid to ask if this is this a normal teen thing? And I'm refusing to just give them money for Christmas. But the longer this goes on the more of a Scrooge I become.

bah-humbug!

Here's all that puppy wants for Christmas

"His two front teeth"

Christmas lights taste like chicken

2009-12-06T10:09:00.008-06:00

He escapes from me for one second....

but I always know where to look first...

Me: "Puppy.....!"

Ace: "What? I'm not doing anything!"

Me: "Puppy! Are you chewing on the lights again?!"

Ace: "Um...I have no idea what you're talking about."

Me:"Give me those lights! I already had to take them all down once!"

Ace:"I didn't do it I swear! I don't know what you're talking about"

Me: "I'm gonna kill you if you break those again! Let go NOW!"

Ace: "Stop! don't take them away! I was just whitening my teeth! I swear!"

Ace: "This doesn't mean I'm not getting any Christmas presents does it?"

The Christmas Pickle and our other silly traditions

2009-12-04T20:21:00.002-06:00

When Nae was in the fourth grade I was visiting her classroom just before Christmas break.
The teacher asked the kids to share what their favorite family Christmas tradition were.
I'll never forget the look on Nae's face when she looked to me for an answer.

The truth was we had none.
Zero. Zilch.

I wasn't raised with any traditions.
I'd had Nae young, got married, had another baby, went through nursing school, worked full time had two more kids. Life was a blur at that time.
I was 26 years old. I had trouble planning my meals for the week.

But after listening to those cute little kids proudly describe the special things they did around the holidays I knew we needed to find some traditions.
And fast!

So I started talking about it with the kids.

Now I will warn you these are pretty silly traditions.
There are no deep meanings in these.
It's just what we do as a family.

Christmas ornaments:
I don't know if you'd count this as a tradition but I do. Each kid has their own Christmas ornament box. Every year I buy a new ornament or two for each kid that has something to do with what they are interested in that year. Because I only have one ornament from when I was a kid, I wanted for my kids to someday leave home and have a box full of ornament and memories.
When we decorate the tree it makes it easy for the kids to hang their own ornaments and reminisce.

Christmas Eve PJ's and Secret Santa:
One year I thought it would be nice to have new PJ's for Christmas morning. I wrapped them and told the kids they got to open one gift Christmas Eve. I know, it was kinda mean. They were not thrilled with their PJ's but then to my surprise the next year they asked if we could do that again. So now every year we do the same thing. The kids joke about how they don't know what the gift is. They act all excited and silly. The only twist now is when we have others with us on Christmas Eve, guess what they get. Yep, new PJ's. Now that the kids are older they have also added Secret Santa on Christmas Eve. The kids draw names just between themselves at Thanksgiving and open that gift the night before Christmas.

Monkey Bread and A Christmas Story:
We all get into our new PJ's and make monkey bread, drink egg nog and watch the best Christmas movie ever.
Yes, A Christmas Story. I think everyone in my family can recite that movie by heart. And if you haven't seen it...then you're lame! I can't imagine there is anyone living in the USA who hasn't seen it but if you haven't just go to TBS on Christmas Eve, they play it nonstop, back to back all day and night long (yes, it's that good!).

Santa comes:
Yes, Santa still comes at our house. When my kids got to the age where they notified me that they didn't believe that Santa was real we had a little heart-to-heart (or shall I say a veiled threat). This is kinda how my end of the conversation went: "Honey, you can believe whatever you want-- but Santa still comes to our house and brings all the presents. If you decide to tell your brothers or sister what you believe-- then you will get nothing from Santa--oh, and did I mention that Santa brings ALL the presents?"

It worked for me.

The Christmas Pickle:
I'm a little worried that this might be a little anticlimactic....so many have asked. Back during that first year of trying to find some traditions, someone told me about the Christmas Pickle. I had to search forever to find one. Now a days they are everywhere and come with a little card describing some "pickle legend" or something.
I don't know anything about all that.
All I know is that I hide the pickle on the tree Christmas Eve and the kid who finds it first Christmas morning gets a little extra present. In the past I've given candy or an special ornament. This year I will be kicking it up a little with a gift card (gotta keep the teens engaged).

Christmas Strata:
Every year I make a strata for breakfast Christmas morning. It is the same recipe of strata that was served at my bridal shower. It's nice because I can make it the night before, set the table and not have to do anything in the morning except enjoy the family.
I will admit for years the kids hated strata and complained constantly. A few years ago I told them that I would make something different. "You can't do that!!! It's our tradition!!" Now they all claim to like it.

So there you have it. Every year I am threatened with bodily harm if I forget any of our traditions (really).

It just goes to show you that your traditions don't have to be fancy or elaborate. Just as long as they are special to your family.

I would love to hear about your Christmas traditions (I would love to keep adding more)

some of my favorite ornaments

2009-12-02T09:16:00.002-06:00

Yesterday, McGillicutty over over at Inner Rambling of a Mid Life Mama did a blog about her ornaments and invited us to join in....

So I snapped a couple pics of my favorite on my tree.

You'll notice they are the fanciest or the prettiest.

They are the ones that bring back sweet memories.

This guy was the first "ornament" I ever bought when I was a single mom and I

had one of those little 3 foot high fake trees that was empty.

He was what I used as an angel for the top.

This ornament I found stuffed in my sister closet in June 1989 after she was killed in a car accident. Nae, her niece was born the September before. She must have had it made for her and then either forgot about it or couldn't find it on her last Christmas with us.

This one represents the ornaments I've made with the kids in the past.

Mac and I made a couple of these one year (and I love snowmen).

This is one of my only ornaments I have from my childhood (teen years actually)

Yes, I was a cheerleader and I think one of my friends' mom made these for all the girls one year (is that right Amy?)

yes, We have a Christmas Pickle. If you don't know what this is, I will blog about it later on a Christmas traditions blog I will be posting later.
This is one of the many ornaments we collected on vacation. Everywhere we go we always buy one. I have a bunch of ornaments from all over the USA.

This one represents the ornaments I have of the kids that have pictures on them. I don't have very many and if I had to do it all over again, I would make an ornament of each kid each year (yeah I'm sure they would love it...)

Well, thanks for stopping by!

Hope you're Holiday preparation is going well!
(Oh! and go visit McGillicutty!)