Midget Invasion

Censorship Sucks

2012-01-18T08:55:00.000-08:00

Adding my teeny tiny corner of the internet to the protests of SOPA and PIPA today.

I'm a photographer, so I do care about piracy. I care a lot. I'm protective of my work, and get upset when people steal it.

However, broad legislation that would give the powers that be the ability to shut down entire websites WITHOUT DUE PROCESS is not the answer.

The Oatmeal explains it best, so I will let him take it from there. Click through and read, if you haven't already:

The Oatmeal explains SOPA

Merry Go Round

2012-01-17T12:01:00.000-08:00

I am sorting laundry, and I grab a gray sweatshirt, ready to throw it onto my pile of clothes. I do a double take, and realize it's not my sweatshirt, it's his. He gets dog poop on his shoes in the back yard. We have to be somewhere and don't have time to clean them, so he borrows a pair of mine that are masculine looking. They fit. He's outgrown his pants, so I go shopping for new ones. He was in a 12, and now is in a 16. Where did 14 go? I see movement out of the corner of my eye and wonder who that guy is walking through the other room. I startle when I realize it's him. Just a few months ago, he stood in front of me, and we played our private little game where I rest my chin on his head. I tried again the other day, and couldn't do it. He is now too tall. I find myself thinking. . .how? WHEN?!?!?

The kids have always grown up too fast for my liking. With him, the sand slipping through my fingers has now turned to water. He'll be twelve in a few months. My breath catches in my throat when I realize this is our last year before he is a teenager. The merry go round is spinning faster and faster, the days and the world becoming a blur. Will I have time to teach him everything I mean to? To say all that needs to be said? I'm terrified that I will not.

A Little Whistle Blowing

2011-10-13T09:04:00.000-07:00

considering this is National Domestic Violence Awareness Month, I figured now was a good time for this post. This involves a story I touched on years ago, specifically the last paragraph here: The Right Stuff

Years have passed, now, and other than the hubby, the people involved are no longer in the military. (And thankfully, are no longer married.) So, I think the statute of limitations has passed, and I can elaborate more and discuss it and other things I've seen.

The thing is, the Army? Despite official policies they say, goes easy on spouse abusers. Or at least they do on Fort Hood, where we were at the time.

When we were living there, I had a friend who was a neighbor. For the sake of confidentiality, let's call her "Ann". She was married with two small boys, and lived in the house behind ours. We'd babysit for each other, and visited almost every day. From early on, it was apparent her husband, who we'll call "Steve" had a bad temper. (I was tempted to call him Jerkoff, but felt that might be overkill. Maybe not, though.) Jerkoff, I mean, Steve, was controlling, and had punched a hole in the wall of their house.

Ann was reluctant to do much, because she was scared of him, and she felt she didn't have many options. She didn't have a job, and Steve was her source of a place to live and feed her kids. I counseled her as much as I could, listening to the stories she would tell become more and more concerning. I knew I couldn't do much until she decided she was ready. I was there for her, and did what I could. He had started hitting her, but she would blow it off, and I would calmly talk to her about not deserving to be treated that way while freaking out in my head. Once, she even called me and asked if I would come over to their house because he was scaring her.

I bolted over to their house, and went inside to talk to her. Steve was very angry I was there, but he knew better than to do anything in front of me. I'm a tall, strong woman who doesn't take crap like that from men, and Steve knew it. (Ann was timid and small, maybe 100 lbs. soaking wet. Sidenote-Steve was such a "nice" guy, he'd often tell Ann she was fat. Such a gem of husband.) He became more and more agitated, and Ann decided she was ready to leave. Steve took the keys to the car and hid them so she couldn't. At that point, Ann decided it was enough, and she called the cops. On an Army base, the cops are military, called MP's. (military police) They came and tried to get things sorted out, calling Steve's superiors. Everyone decided it would be best if Steve went with his Sergeant to spend the night and cool off. That is all that was done. The next day, he was back home.

Needless to say, I was not pleased about the lack of action on everyone's part. I don't know what his superiors thought would happen, but things continued to grow worse for Ann. A while later, she came over and asked if she could borrow our extra car to stay at a friend's house for a few days with her boys. She was considering going home to stay with her mom a few states away, but needed a few days to figure things out. We let her, and wished her luck. The next morning, there was a knock at the door, and there was Ann with Steve at her side. Steve informed me she would no longer be needing the car. Ann looked terrified, and I realized coming home was definitely not Ann's idea. She came over later to tell me that Steve had waited until her friend went to work, forced himself into the house, and physically dragged her out and made her come back. I was appalled, and once again tried to talk her into going to the police.

A lot of time passed. One day she came over with her sons and had bruises on her face and arms. She was terrified of what she was doing, but she asked if I would drive her to the police station on base. She didn't want to take her car, because Steve was sleeping on the couch, and would hear the car and wake up. I of course jumped at the chance to help her. The hubby was home, so we left her boys with him, and I drove her to the station.

We both sat in an interview room and joked about how it was the first time either one of us had been in a police station. An officer came in and talked to her, writing down her statement, and they brought in a photographer to take pictures of her. While we were talking, they sent MP's to the house to pick him up and bring him in. I'm sure it was a rude awakening from that nap for Steve. The officer promised Ann that he was going to make sure that she stayed safe. That Steve would not be allowed to set foot near her for 72 hours. I took her home, telling her how proud of her I was, and that the hubby and I would do all we could to help her.

We all went to bed that night feeling better than we had in a long time. The next evening, Ann came over, looking frantic. Steve was home. He had been released from the police station that morning into the custody of his sergeant. His sergeant decided that he didn't want to mess with finding Steve a place to stay and after work, dropped him off back home. The hubby finally lost his cool and decided he was going to do something about it. He put his uniform back on, because he outranked Steve by quite a bit, and was going to make things official and pull rank. He walked over to the house and tried to get Steve to leave, and when he wouldn't, he called the cops. That's when things really hit the fan.

The MP's showed up (including the officer who had promised Ann that he would keep her safe), Steve's sergeant showed up, and his first sergeant. I sat with Ann on a swing in our yard, and we waited to see what would unfold. The officer chewed out Steve, and in a surprising turn of events, Steve's first sergeant chewed out the hubby. Apparently he was sticking his nose where it wasn't wanted, and they told him he was supposed to stay out of it. Finally things calmed down, and Steve was escorted away by his sergeant, to stay at someone else's house until his 72 hours were up. The hubby came home, shaken up and looking defeated, but resolved that he had done the right thing. I was very glad in that moment to be married to a man like that.

I'd love to say that this story has some big happy ending, with Ann getting justice, and Steve served his dues. That's not how things work, though. Steve was allowed to go back home like nothing had happened, and Ann continued to live in fear until she finally got up the courage to go home to her mother. We had to help pay for her to do it, but we felt it was money well spent. Ann went on to live her life, and we talk from time to time. She's with someone new (who I hope is treating her right), and she is going to school to get a degree, so she won't be in a position of depending on a man ever again. And Steve? Steve eventually left the Army and is now married to someone new. I have no idea how things are going for them. I can only hope that the woman doesn't take any crap from him, although I know the chances of that are slim.

I'd like to say that Ann's case was unique, but it's not. We had other neighbors where the husband was beating the crap out his wife. It ended up being a similar story. When she would get up the courage to call the police, all that would happen is they would take him away for the night, tell him he wasn't allowed to go home for 72 hours, and then hand him over to a superior in his unit. The thing is, if the unit decides that they don't want to mess with dealing with it, then they don't. There are no checks and balances here. We were lucky, the hubby's unit is not one like that. When his superiors heard what had happened, they were irate. They would not tolerate that kind of thing in their unit, and let the hubby know that they stood behind what he did 100%. Not all units are that way though, and some are more about watching the backs of their own soldiers, and heaven help the spouses of those soldiers.

I don't even know what my point in posting this is. I did need to get it off my chest though. I'm hoping that maybe if more awareness happens, maybe changes can be made. That the Army won't just be against spousal abuse in policy, but in action. Soldiers that abuse their spouses should be held accountable, and have more of a consequence than a 72 hour cooling off period. Someone needs to be looking out for all those spouses out there, and it can't always be just me or the hubby.

You Might Be Homeschoolers If. . .

2011-10-08T08:51:00.000-07:00

I was in the middle of cooking dinner, when Lindsay limped into the kitchen.

"Mom, I'm bleeding!"

"Ok, hold on just a second, and I'll go get you a band-a. . "

"No, no, no,! Go get a slide for the microscope!"

Thus, I did, and set up the microscope on the kitchen counter. I ran back and forth between the stove and the microscope finding things on the slide, and letting the kids take turns looking. Ryan ran and got our anatomy book, and we found the page showing the different cells in blood, so we would know what we were looking at. They continued to take turns while eating dinner, more enamored with science than eating at that moment.

Now THAT is homeschooling done right.

p.s.-Lindsay's foot was fine and was attended to shortly after we made the slide.

p.p.s.-Lindsay was so excited when I was able to get a fuzzy picture of what we were seeing, and she demanded that I share it with people, so here, look at her blood:

Tales from Ballet School

2011-10-07T09:59:00.000-07:00

I overheard a mom telling this story while I waited for the girls at ballet last week. It's so awesome, I almost wish it had happened to me so I can claim credit, but I can't. Somewhere out there is a mom named Melanie, who has a child in Hannah's ballet class. This is what happened to her last Tuesday.

Her daughter never really asks for much. One of those children that is happy with something small from the dollar store, and doesn't beg for expensive stuff from commercials. However, a few months before her birthday, this little girl saw a doll in a magazine. A doll she HAD to have. For the first time in her little life, she really wanted something, so her mother decided that she would get it for her birthday. It was one of those "lifelike" collectors dolls that usually are advertised in magazines.

The little girl's birthday came, and she got her doll and she was ecstatic. She immediately became attached, and the doll went everywhere with her. Last Tuesday, they (the mom, the little girl, and the doll) were riding in the car down the interstate, headed home after an afternoon of errands. The mom was driving under the speed limit, taking her time, enjoying the afternoon. At that moment, her daughter decided that her baby was crying. She became upset and begged her mom to help her make her baby feel better.

The mom did what most parents in that situation would do: whatever it takes to make your real kid stop crying. So she took the doll from her daughter, propped it on her shoulder, and made a show of patting it and consoling it while she was driving. It was at that moment when she saw lights in her rear view mirror. She was being pulled over by a state trooper. She once again checked her speed, confused as to what she had done. She pulled over, nervous and her mind racing about what it could be. As the officer walked up to her window, she pulled out her license and insurance.

The trooper knocked on her window.

"Do you know why I pulled you over today?"

"Um, no?"

The officer looks down at her shoulder and points.

"Babies are supposed to ride in car seats, ma'am."

Now, let me break here for a second to say that I think she handled this a lot better than I would have. I'm not sure I would have even been able to talk, because I would have been LAUGHING MY BUTT OFF.

Anyway, she pulled the doll off her shoulder saying "Um, it's a DOLL, I was pretending to comfort it for my daughter. Here, see? TAKE IT." The officer declined to take the doll, flustered, and seeming not sure what to say next. He ended up telling her to maybe try holding it lower next time to avoid confusion, and they both went on their way.

Life > Fiction. You really can't make this stuff up.

A Co-op Wonderland

2011-10-06T07:49:00.000-07:00

Over the past year, Lindsay has randomly been working her way through the Ramona books by Beverly Cleary. I say random, because she tends to read two or three books at a time, and I have a hard time keeping up with which books she is currently on. (e.g.-this week, she read through "Anne of Green Gables", she's most of the way through "A Cricket in Times Square", and she's also two thirds of the way through the fifth Harry Potter book.) My little bookworm's appetite has not waned one bit, but instead, has grown in epic proportions.

I LOVE that she loves reading this much, and that she loves the same books I read as a kid. However, over the past year, her love for the Ramona series lead to an unforeseen consequence; she desperately wanted to go to public school.

Ramona makes school seem so fun! There are buses to ride! Lunches to eat! Recess! Lindsay had created this idyllic picture of public school from a mixture of the books, and her vague memories of pre-k. Even her older brother tried to talk her out of it, since he has much more experience in public school and knows how it really is. He tried to explain it to her, but she wanted none of it.

Now, I have always promised that while I love homeschooling, and believe it's what is best for our family, that I would never force any of my kids to stay home. However, with our family's current situation, public schooling would be very difficult to work in. I spent all summer talking with Lindsay and trying to figure out what would be best for everyone. I know my child, and I knew what she was expecting from public school, and I also knew how hard it would be for all of us to not be able to visit the hubby once a month any more.

Then, I did some research and found a local homeschooling co-op. I sat down with Lindsay to explain it, and see if that would be an acceptable compromise for this year. She agreed, and we started last month. It has been great for the whole family, actually. Once a week, the kids get to wear backpacks, play on a playground, bring a lunchbox, have classes. Basically, everything Lindsay felt like she was missing out on. (With the exception of riding a school bus.) It's been fun for me, too. I get to interact with adults and I get some experience teaching kids that aren't mine. (I'm the aide for both the middle school and high school Anatomy and Physiology classes.) It's a very big and organized co-op. The class offerings were kind of amazing. One of Ryan's classes is Latin, and Lindsay is taking a creative writing class.

It's great to be able to give Lindsay something she felt she was missing out on as a homeschooled kid, but to do it in an environment that fosters the ideals I have when it comes to schooling. All the teachers are homeschooling parents, and we work together. Last week, after co-op was over Lindsay said that she really liked it, and thinks it's better than public school. So for now, this works. We're still going to take things one year at a time, but I'm glad for now we've found what seems to be the perfect fit for our weird little family.

Magic

2011-10-05T20:52:00.000-07:00

Magic exists, oh yes. You just have to be able to recognize it when you see it.

Magic: having friends that love your family so much, they would gift your autistic son with an iPad to further unlock his potential.

Magic: after less than a week of playing with said iPad, your autistic son who has never grasped the concept of letters before, correctly answers the question "What makes an 'ah' sound?" as he points to the letter A on his iPad.

Thank you to friends out there who help create this magic, and thank you Steve Jobs. RIP dude.

Webcam Shenanigans

2011-09-19T11:46:00.000-07:00

The hubby and I are really behind the curve on this, because until now we've not had computers capable of anything more than the old school webcams. You know the kind, where the refresh rate is once a second if you are lucky.

Last night I finally installed my new one, and we had our first webcam session since he was deployed in Iraq many moons ago.

This is what we did with our time.

The Minivan Olympics

2011-09-16T08:36:00.000-07:00

I've always marched to the beat of my own drummer, even with parenting. Maybe even especially with parenting. I do my own thing, and yeah, I get some weird looks, but it's been working for us. I've always been a more laid back person at heart, and I'd honed our lives to cater to that side of me. I watched my friends running their kids from activity to activity, and was always glad it wasn't me.

Wasn't being the key word here.

In the blink of an eye, I am now one of those haggard moms running their kids all over creation. Actually, compared to some other moms we still aren't doing that many things, but for us, it's a lot. It's been overwhelming for me, and I've had a hard time adjusting. I find myself focusing on Thursdays and Saturdays, our only days without any commitments. We have homeschool co-op (which I'll do a post on later, and our decision to join one), speech therapy twice a week, occupational therapy, ballet (once a week for Hannah, twice a week for Lindsay), church twice a week, working the farmer's market, and we'll be adding trumpet lessons for Ryan in there somewhere soon. I get tired just sitting here thinking about it and typing it all up. Don't forget once a month or so we drive all the way up to Virginia to visit the hubby.

I feel guilty, because we're only one month into this schedule, and I'm already exhausted and resenting it. Wednesday is our most hectic day, where we take Logan to speech with the girls already dressed for ballet, and we only have 15 minutes to get from there to ballet and get the girls' shoes changed and them into their classes. Then we have to rush home, change clothes, shovel dinner down and get to church. Each week I feel like a runner on the starting block waiting for that gun to go off.

I also feel kind of like a loser. Our schedule isn't nearly as hectic as some other families, and I still have trouble handling it. I also look at the other moms who have those more crazy schedules and wonder how they do it. They almost seem to thrive in it. Me? I'm not going to be earning any gold medals any time soon.

The Earth's Fifth Anniversary

2011-07-30T03:49:00.000-07:00

. . .of being privileged to the existence of Hannah.

From tiny little fighter:

To a princess full of awesomeness and tiger blood:

Happy birthday, kiddo.

My Movie Companion

2011-07-15T20:25:00.000-07:00

Ryan and I have seen every Harry Potter movie together, in the theater, at least since Goblet of Fire. It has become a tradition, for the two of us to go as soon as possible when they are released. For this last one, I decided we should end the series with a bang. I bought tickets to the midnight release. It was a blast, and I loved the movie. So did Ryan.

There was something really emotional for me about seeing the last one, and it really didn't have anything to do with the movie. You see, Ryan and I did see the first one together in a theater not long after it was released. Well, the first half anyway. We were on vacation and a group of family went, and we decided to take Ryan, even though it was a gamble. He was 18 months old. He made it through until the halfway point, and then he just couldn't be quiet any more. I spent the rest of the movie in the lobby, letting him toddle around.

There was a striking difference with the Ryan I took with me Thursday night. We started the series together, and we ended it together. However, I no longer had a toddler getting into mischief in the theater lobby. I had a young man with me, who thoroughly enjoyed the entire movie, and I was able to discuss the intricacies of the film with on the way home.

Here is where I segue into the part about how we are dealing with issues with Ryan now that we haven't had to deal with since he was little. I have mentioned before that Ryan had a severe brain injury when he was born. He was followed by a team of specialists, and a lot of my time and energy was spent dealing with his medical issues and worrying about his future. When he was 4, he was cleared for good. We were told we never had to see the specialists again. We could get on with a normal life and be free.

However, in the afternoon before we went to the movie, we were at the doctor. Ryan has been having headaches lately. We don't know why, and his medical history is coming back to haunt us. The doctor wants us to go back to those specialists we were freed from so long ago. An MRI is scheduled the first week of August. I'm trying to be optimistic. I suffer from migraines, so it could just be genetics coming in to play. At the same time, I hate the idea of him having to suffer from migraines, especially after everything he has been through. Once again we're at a medical crossroads where I'm not sure what result to root for.

I have hope, though. My Harry Potter movie buddy has defied all the medical odds so far, so I have faith he is just going to keep on kicking the snot out of whatever comes his way.

Our 4th of July, in pictures

2011-07-05T12:27:00.000-07:00

She works hard for the. . .watermelon

2011-06-29T14:05:00.000-07:00

As part of my ever increasing hippy-ness, a few years ago I started looking into farmer's markets in our area. I found one that had an interesting concept. It was called "Locally Grown" and it was mainly online. I decided to try it out. You ordered online over the weekend, and then picked up the order on Tuesdays. The week I tried it, I loved it, and I've been a steady customer since.

In the past two years I've watched the little market move twice, change leadership, and expand to need three pickup locations in our area. I've also watched the list of farmers grow. What once used to be just some vegetables, fruits, eggs, and the occasional chicken, has now grown to also offering dairy, soaps, a huge selection of meats (even salmon!), coffee, and even milled grains. I've had the pleasure of becoming friends with the current market curator.

A few months back the curator approached me with an offer: to run one of the pickup sites. I would be paid in market credit, which essentially means free food. It works out perfectly for us, because that pickup location has a fenced in playground, so my kids could come too. Essentially, I show up once a week, help transport the orders to my pickup location, and spend an hour passing out the orders and taking the payments. I get the added benefits of making new friends, and knowing the good impact I am having. Not to mention the amazing free food I am earning. (This past week I was able to order two cantaloupe, two watermelons, a pound of coffee, a pound of potatoes, a dozen eggs, and honey. All organic, and all grown locally. Well, except the coffee, which is organic fair trade and roasted locally.)

I also love the benefit of what this is teaching my kids. They get excited over the food we get, they understand how good it is for them (the farmers don't harvest until the pickup day), they enjoy helping set up everyone's order, and sometimes even work accepting payment and interacting with the customers. They also get to know the farmers personally. There are some that are actual farms in the traditional sense, and they employ organic practices. There are others that are just backyard farmers, who include a few extra rows in their personal garden to sell with us.

Here is where I do a plug for our little organization. Most of you don't live where I do, but here is the thing, "Locally Grown" is actually a network of markets. It originally started in Athens, Georgia, and has grown into a national network. It's been fun to watch the map explode with little pins as new markets in the network open up. So I invite you to check out the main site, and see if there is one in your area. You can also click around on the site to watch videos and read more about how it all works. Locally Grown Map

Winning at Parenting

2011-06-14T22:33:00.000-07:00

Lindsay: How do they say "Ow" in Spanish?

Me: Um, "Ow"?

The Hubby: Mama Mia? Oh wait, no, that's Italian.

From the back of the house we hear Hannah start to sing: Mama mia, mama mia, mama mia let me go!

Recent Conversations

2011-06-09T18:35:00.000-07:00

Hannah upon waking: I am a cheetah blowing fire.

Me:. . . .ok?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lindsay: Mom how does a boy horse get sperm into a girl horse?

Me: Uhh, how do you think?

Lindsay: They wrestle together? Like people?!?!?

Me: Yep. Time for church!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lindsay: Mom do you pray?

Me: Well, what do you think?

Ryan: Well, since you have to take care of us, yeah, you pray.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Logan threw a toy at Ryan's face, and then Ryan hit Logan, so I fussed at them.

Ryan: Mom, kids will be kids, deal with it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hannah: I fell off.

Me: You fell off of what?

Hannah: Just the ground.

Me: Yep, you're definitely my kid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lindsay, acting crazy and jumping around the room: Does this look like a rodeo?

Ryan: No, it looks like dancing.

Lindsay, acting even more crazy: What about this, is this a rodeo?

Ryan: No.

Lindsay: Then what do you call this?

Ryan: I call that. . . . .Lindsay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hannah: Mom! Mom! I have something to tell you!

Me: Ok!

Hannah: I have to whisper it in your ear!

Me: ok.

Hannah, leaning in and whispering conspiratorially: Video killed the radio star.

A Day in the Life of our Cats

2011-05-25T23:26:00.000-07:00

I love my cats, I really do. I have never been one to shy away from announcing the fact that they are stupid, though. They are, poor things. I think I've shown pictures from time to time on here, but I've never really done a big proper post on them. I can't sleep and it's late at night, so here is that post. Complete with pictures! Drawn by me! And bad sentence structure and grammar! Because it's late at night!

This is Vader. He is the older of the two. As you can see in his picture, he is a bit special.

He has his strengths, namely the fact that he kills any scary bugs that get into the house. However, he also has been known to knock a toy he was playing with off of a table, and not be able to figure out where it went.

He is also allergic to fleas. Have I mentioned that?

This is Raven. She is younger, and we got her to help Vader not be so psychotic when we leave for a few days to go on vacation. We used to come home and Vader would be there, completely traumatized by the fact we were gone. Now when we get home, he's like "Meh, it's you people again."

As her little description says, she's a pretty sweet tempered little thing. (Emphasis on little, she's maybe 5 lbs. soaking wet.) Lindsay has kind of claimed her as HER cat, and the two can be found cuddling together often. However, when she's not being cute or cuddly, she can also be found staring vacantly off into space. Sometimes with her nose an inch from a wall. She's also allergic to her own teeth. (yes, Google it. It really is a thing.) The vet says some day she'll need extensive dental surgery where they will probably extract most of her teeth. That's ok, I'm sure the kids didn't want to go to college anyway!

I will mostly focus on Vader. Raven tends to be a more mellow cat, sleeping a lot and blending in with the background, except for a few times a day when she gets spunky and plays.

Vader. . .well, I don't think he could blend into a background if he tried. He probably wouldn't even be able to FIND the background.

Sometime very early in the morning, way before anyone wants to be up: Claw frantically at the carpet in front of the master bedroom door like the apocalypse is coming. Body slam it and meow loudly for good measure. Wait till people open the door and yell at you. Run away. Wait five minutes and then come do it again.

Sometime still early, before the humans actually wanted to get up, but late enough they figure they should get up anyway: Claw at the door until they come out and sigh "FINE, I'm up." Run under their feet as they stumble down the stairs. Bolt into the kitchen and stand by your food bowl and meow loudly, as if starving to death. Even if there is food in the bowl.

When the humans go to let the dog out: Try to escape.

When the kids go out to play: Try to escape.

When the kids come in from playing: Try to escape.

When the humans take the trash outside: Try to escape.

When the humans come home from the grocery store: Try to escape.

When the humans go to water the garden: Actually escape. Run across the yard, hop the fence. Attempt to climb a tree. Get stuck six feet off the ground hanging onto the side of a tree because you don't actually know HOW to climb a tree. Let human pluck you from tree and take you back inside. End escape attempts for the day. Or at least an hour.

I don't know what Vader thinks about the outside world, but I imagine it is something like this:

Any time throughout the day when a bug is in the house: Play with it until it's dead. Eat it if you feel like it.

It's really one reason that other than the love and affection makes Vader very worth all the trouble. He's like a bug killing ninja assassin. It's very useful when dealing with the ginormous palmetto bug/tree roach things around here.

The rest of the daylight hours, when you aren't playing, eating, attacking Raven, or pooping: sleep.

Randomly throughout the day for no apparent reason: Tear like a bat out of heck across the entire house. Stop just as suddenly as you started. Meow loudly.

This is a rough drawing of our downstairs.

Vader will be doing something, sometimes even sleeping, at one of the red stars. Then, without warning, he will run as fast as he can to the other point, stop, and meow. Sometimes he runs back to his starting point before stopping. Sometimes he does it multiple times in a row. Then he just stops. And yes, he runs up the banister. We're going to have to replace it.

Later that night after the humans go to bed: Find something to play hockey with in the dining room, right below the master bedroom door. Make the humans so happy they put in laminate instead of carpet, as it greatly amplifies the noise. Also rearrange furniture. Or whatever in the heck it is you do at night that sounds that way.

The next day: Repeat all of the above.

How to get to China, according to Google

2011-05-23T14:12:00.001-07:00

All credit for this goes to the hubby, who originally figured this out. He was trying to find a street near his house on Google Maps. One of the locations was somewhere in China, and for kicks, he clicked "Get Directions".

The directions had him drive the West Coast, and then:

That's right, a quick jaunt in a kayak to Oahu. You cross the island, and it gets even better.

This part is a bit rougher, but yes, that's more kayaking, to Japan! Once in Japan, it's mostly tollroads until the final leg of the journey. I think this one is my favorite.

Make sure to bring along plenty of gas!

I tried this for a bunch of locations, including Sydney, and it worked. Oddly enough though, locations across the Atlantic do not. I also wonder at the choice of a kayak. If I were crossing the Pacific by boat, I think I'd choose something that has a bit more, um, ENGINE.

Hints of Summer

2011-05-19T19:45:00.000-07:00

Tonight I stood on our back deck, getting bored, wanting to turn and go back into the house. Night was falling, and the kids were chasing fireflies. I had been really excited to see the first fireflies of the season, too. It faded after ten minutes or so, and all I could think of were the dishes that needed washing. I forced myself to stay. To enjoy the night air, the fireflies.

Soon we were treated to a group of bats hunting right above our heads. The dishes still nagged, but I held fast. I taught the kids how to be as still as statues and listen with all their might, so they could hear the faint clicking the bats' sonar. Finally cries of "I heard it, I heard it!"

The first star of the night is spotted by Logan, his eyes way better than mine.

An idea comes from Ryan, his new night vision goggles he got for his birthday from his grandparents. He runs to get them. The bats prove to be too skilled acrobats to be followed with the goggles, but the kids have fun watching bugs, cars passing, each other. They gleefully run around in the grass, amid the fireflies, smelling like insect repellent. They take turns watching each other jump on the trampoline, until the only thing the people not using the goggles can see are Hannah's light up shoes.

I usher them inside, each full of their new memories. I'm glad I forced myself to stay, to take part in what I am hoping is a magical time for them. Some day they might ask "Do you remember that night with the fireflies, where we tried to watch the bats with the night vision goggles?" I'll be able to say that yes, I remember, because I was not inside washing the dishes. I was there.

This Past Week, in Haiku

2011-04-06T23:07:00.000-07:00

Long long long long drive
I-95 is boring
Tarps don't hold up well

Lots of money gone
Dishonesty is rampant
Sometimes people suck

In a hotel room
Six people for many days
Man, what is that smell?

Hunting for a home
It's hard to find the right one
Ready to be done

A day at the beach
Water and sand, not worry
Now I am sunburned

A house has been found
We are drowning in red tape
Paperwork is dumb

Another fun day
A lake and my camera
Sleeping ducks are cute

Ready to go home
Cabin fever setting in
Adulthood is dumb

Perception

2011-03-27T22:01:00.000-07:00

I blogged last year about the whole "losing weight before I turned 30" thing. For once, one of my goals actually came to fruition. I hit my 30's with a body that wasn't perfect, but I was very happy with it. People who didn't even know I had tried to lose weight complimented me on how good I looked, which felt great.

I'll just be honest here and do something a lot of women don't want to do. I'm going to spit out numbers. When I started last year, I averaged about 165. Sometimes I'd creep up to 168-ish. I know it's not exactly obese, especially on my 5' 8" frame, but I was unhappy. I didn't feel healthy, I didn't feel attractive, and I just needed to lose the weight for me. I worked hard, and quite a while before my goal date of my 30th birthday, I hit a place where I toggled in between 140 and 145, depending on, ahem, that time of the month. I still wanted to lose 5-10 more, but I was satisfied.

Life got busy, and I stopped exercising as much and I decided to stop watching the scale. I figured that as long as I was still fitting in my clothes and feeling good, then watching the scale might be too obsessive and detrimental. As long as I was still feeling good then what does weight matter, right?

I haven't weighed myself in a good 6 months. Since the holidays, I've just not felt as great. I've been tired, and when I look in the mirror I'm not happy any more. The same clothes still fit, but I'm no longer happy with how they fit. I've not been exercising at all, and it's been a nasty downward spiral.

I've been wanting to step on the scale to see how bad the damage is, but at the same time I've been terrified to. I know what seeing a higher number will do to me, emotionally. I feel. . .fat. Seeing the scale go up wouldn't help my feelings about that. Tonight however, the scale was out and I stared it down. I stepped on, preparing myself to be devastated. I just KNEW I had gained weight, with as unhappy about my body as I've felt lately.

I took a deep breath and looked down. Stepped off the scale, figuring it couldn't be right, and fiddled with it making sure it was zeroed. Stepped on again, and sure enough, it said the same thing. Fully dressed (without shoes) I weighed a whopping. . . .142.

That's when I was shown just how much your mind can mess with you about how you look. I weigh exactly the same. Even though I am not happy with how they are fitting, I am still fitting into the same size clothes. It's all in my head. Turns out, the scale isn't my enemy. My own mind is. I know getting back into my healthy regimen will help my perception of myself. That, and maybe a healthy reminder from my scale every once in a while.

A Letter to My Daughters

2011-03-14T19:54:00.000-07:00

Dear Lindsay and Hannah,
As I am writing this, you are 8 and 4 years old. Because of you, ponies, kitties, babydolls, and fairy wings litter our house. There are things in the closet that are pink, and sparkle. I find myself doing things I never thought I would, like making bows and researching hairstyles. I went to my first tea party ever last year.

I was never the girly-girl type. Even now, I'm still not. For you though, I try. My two little ladies who don't mind getting dirty. You are such a wonderful mix of soft femininity and rugged tomboy. Outside you play baseball with your brothers, and dig for worms in the dirt, and then you come inside and don princess gowns and create a world full of magic and unicorns. It has a magic of its own, to watch the two of you and your ability to do this.

The two of you have much in common, but you have differences too. Differences that make me love you even more. Lindsay, melodramatic girl with the big heart. You always seem to be singing, putting on concerts for our little family, or playing outside, belting out whatever song your mind is creating at the top of your lungs. You haven't learned yet to care what others think about this. My hope is that you never do. You love to perform, and do it with such a confidence and grace I envy. I was a musician for years, and I never was able to overcome the fear. My hands shook through every performance. You, when I asked you before your first piano recital if you were nervous, answered simply "No." And you meant it. In that moment, I knew you were better than me, and I delighted in that.

And Hannah, my mischievous, fun-loving girl. I see myself in you so much. I apologize now, but you will be hearing about how much you look like me throughout your whole childhood, because it is true. We share some personality traits too. You are shy with strangers, like I can be. My own mom told me once that I was a "free spirit" and I can very much see that in you, as well. You are so playful and happy that it's hard to stay mad at you. I hope you are able to hold on to that inherent joy that seems to be within you. The world can be a place that tries to rip that from you, so hold on to it tightly. You are in a rough place, being the youngest of four, but you do well in it. You are a tough cookie, and I've even seen your tiny four year old frame knock down your not so tiny oldest brother.

I am going to say something here that the two of you might not believe. I don't think I would have believed it either if my mom had told me something similar. It's the truth though, and here it is. You, my daughters, are the most beautiful things I've ever seen. How you even came from me, I will never know. There are times when I watch you sleep, and I am in awe. You are perfect. This can be a cruel world, and inevitably you will run across someone who will try to tell you that you are not. They will try to convince you that you are lacking, somehow. That you are not good enough. I see how shallow our society can be, and it takes my breath away. I feel anxious about whether or not I will be able to teach you to believe you are beautiful. Inside and out, you are amazing creatures, and anyone who tells you differently isn't worth the dirt on your shoes.

I try to tell you every day, and I know some days it doesn't happen, but I love you. I love you both, differently and equally. I am humbled by the opportunity to be your mother. To be the one that gets to guide you on your journey growing into women. I treasure these days, where walking down the hallway I'm apt to trip over a glittery shoe. I look forward to your futures with a bittersweet happiness. I am excited to see the women you will become, but I know I will miss the ponies, and pink and sparkly things hanging in the closet. I will miss being able to keep you under my wings where you will be safe. I tell you this not to make you fell bad, but just to explain that why, on the day you fly from the nest, underneath the joy and pride on my face will be a hint of sadness. A sadness that you probably will not understand until you have your own children.

Right now the two of you are asleep. I will wrap up this letter and go kiss your sweet little heads. Tomorrow is another day, full of magic with you, and I intend to enjoy it. Sleep well, my beautiful princesses.

Forever grateful to be yours,
Mom

Deep Breaths

2011-03-04T11:56:00.000-08:00

Wow, almost a month with no blog posts! I've just been so busy dealing with. . .life. And remembering to breathe. This will be one of my famous "explosion of randomness!" posts. Now with pictures!

-I know the first thing everyone probably wants to hear about is Lindsay. So, this is for those who are not on Facebook to get caught up. The latest news is yes, Lindsay does have spina bifida. It's a type called "spinda bifida occulta", which if you google is a very mild form that usually goes undiagnosed. It normally doesn't cause any complications, and most people only find out they have it if they are getting a neck x-ray for something totally unrelated, like Lindsay was. However, she does have some vertebrae that didn't come together right when she was forming in the womb. Why that wasn't caught before, I'm not sure. The specialist said that there is a good chance it will never cause her any issues, but they are going to see her every year while she is growing to be sure. There is a chance her neck could start to grow wrong, so they'll have to keep an eye out for that. WHEE.

-Happier news: both Ryan and Lindsay got baptized this past weekend. Proud moment for us, and some family came in to town to celebrate. Some of that family included my nephews, one of which we hadn't met yet, so that was, of course, awesome.

-Part of getting the house ready for visitors was moving forward with house repairs. The family still had to deal with unpainted walls and some other things, but I'm pleased with the direction our house is taking. We got new floors put in the dining room, and built a wall where there used to be a banister type railing. Some peeks of that:

-The hubby is moving in a few weeks. It's amazing how our decision to do things the way we have, gets such polarized reactions. We've had some people try to make us feel bad for it, but we've had really supportive people who understand as well. It's funny how people who aren't even part of the situation have such strong opinions about things. Frankly, we know what we can handle. The situation isn't ideal, but we've been through worse, so we'll get through this too. We're doing things this way for now, and taking things as they come. Maybe in a few months things will change. Who knows? We're just stepping out in faith that things will work out, and thumbing our noses to everyone else. (Which is pretty much what we've done since the first day we were married, anyway.)

-Homeschooling is still chugging along. I think I finally found a math program that will work well with Ryan. He is also working his way through the Harry Potter series at the moment, so his new found love of reading is still chugging along, too. Lindsay I worry about, because she is the least willing to work for me. However, she's also grades ahead of where she should be for reading, and I did an end of the year assessment on her for math,(three or four months before the end of our school year) and she passed that just fine, so. . .whatever, I guess.

-Logan is still doing great. We had an exciting moment recently where he answered the question "How old are you?" correctly for the first time. Still working on getting him into somewhere that he can be officially diagnosed though. Sigh.

-Hannah is still. . . Hannah. She had a check up and the doctor declared her to be absolutely perfect. She's beginning to learn to write her name and is a normal, happy healthy four year old. It's kind of ironic that out of the four kids, the one that scared us the most when she was born, is the one without any issues whatsoever, now. At least we have the one that we don't have to worry about.

*deep breath*

Yet another specialist, yet another worry

2011-02-11T21:31:00.001-08:00

The roller coaster continues. It seems 2011 is bent on trying to break me. However, I'm not giving in yet.

The latest scary part of the ride? Lindsay. Since she was a baby, Lindsay has had a dry cough at night, especially in the winter. She also seems to get croup every winter without fail. This year's bout was the scariest yet, and finally made the doctors sit up and take notice.

For those of you that aren't parents, croup is when during an illness, the airway constricts, and the cough that results sounds like a seal barking. (No, really.) Most parents out there can back me up on this, but it's terrifying the first time it happens to your child, but it's almost a rite of passage as a parent. After four kids, I've dealt with croup many, MANY times. This was the first time in my almost 11 years as a parent where I was SCARED during a bout of croup.

The doctor that saw her that day was not her normal doctor. She told me what tests I needed to ask the regular doctor to run. The concern is, that croup is something most children grow out of. 8 year olds are not supposed to get it.

We saw Lindsay's regular doctor yesterday, and she agreed and ordered the tests that need to be run. A chest x-ray, neck x-ray, and a lung function test (to check for asthma). We're still waiting to hear back on when the appointment for that last one is, but she had the x-rays yesterday.

As I was going to bed late last night, I noticed there was a missed call on my phone, and a voicemail message. I sat in the dark and listened to it. It was the doctor, and she had gotten the x-rays results. Lindsay's lungs look fine, as well as the soft tissues in her neck. Then came the word you don't want to hear in a call about test results.. . ."However. . ."

She then went on to say that there are abnormalities with the vertebrae at the bottom of Lindsay's neck, as well as other abnormalities that look like spina bifida. Not exactly the news you want to hear in the middle of the night.

I woke the hubby to tell him, because I had to tell someone RIGHT THEN. Today some emails to family went out. Right now, we have no idea what this means. We don't even know if it's related to the croup/coughing issue or not. It could be that she "just" has asthma, and finding these abnormalities was just a coincidence. The doctor said this goes outside her realm of expertise, so we have a referral in to a specialist.

In the meantime, we have to just wait. And try to stay away from Google.

Birdies

2011-01-31T13:02:00.001-08:00

Still dealing with sick kids, and not feeling too awesome myself, so this is a photo post with some of the birds I have been catching outside the computer room window lately. I put a feeder out there yesterday, so I'm hoping it attracts a lot more!

Carolina Wren

Eastern Phoebe (I think.)

Male Cardinal (blurry, but these guys are hard to catch!)

Female Cardinal

Pine Warbler

Bluebird!

It's Always Something

2011-01-27T11:21:00.001-08:00

The kids have always given us a roller coaster ride. We've dealt with birth defects, birth injuries, prematurity, and random other health scares. (Like Logan's heart murmur.) I guess it really shouldn't surprise me any more when something new comes up.

This week, some of the kids have had colds, including Lindsay. Lindsay got it worse than everyone else, and it turned into croup. Monday night, she asked to sleep with me, and I ok'ed that, because I wanted to keep an eye on her. It turned out to be a very wise decision. In the wee hours of the morning, she woke up sounding awful, and coughing up a storm. In my groggy state, I realized a few seconds later that she couldn't breathe very well. She just had this look on her face and I could tell she was worried, and completely focused on getting air in and out. The hubby was already getting ready for work and was in the shower, so I swooped into the bathroom with her to see if the steam would help. (Had it not, we would have been off to the ER.) It did help, and she fell back into a fitful sleep. We made an appointment for her to be seen that day.

I hate going to the doctor, and anyone that knows me knows that I don't take my kids in for just anything. I tell people that I have four kids, so I don't scare very easily. Lindsay had me scared, though. I knew bringing her in was the right decision when the nurse took one listen to her, and before even getting her vitals, left the room to grab a passing doctor in the hallway. They listened to Lindsay and he was actually quite surprised to report that her lungs sounded clear. The croup was worrisome though. (Because of her age, and the fact that she was coughing pretty much constantly.) Two different doctors looked at her, and both agreed that her croup was not normal.

They pumped her full of steroids, and gave us more to take home. We had explicit instructions to bring her back in the next day if she hadn't improved, and to head straight to the ER if she got worse. Then one of the doctors talked to me about causes. She said she was sure there was an underlying issue. The croup at this age, combined with the fact that Lindsay does seem to get sicker than the others, and she coughs at night sometimes, especially in the winter, means something is up.

Once Lindsay is better, we're supposed to make an appointment with her regular doctor and have tests run. The doctor she saw is suspecting anything from asthma to an airway deformation. Frankly, I'm not sure what I'm rooting for, here. I mean, asthma is something I'm used to. It can be scary, but it's a "normal" thing to be wrong with someone. An airway deformation sounds terrifying. On the other hand, that might be something fixable. Asthma would be something she'd probably have for the rest of her life. However, fixing a deformation can involve surgery and scary things like that.

Like I said, I'm not sure what I'm rooting for. I'd rather nothing be wrong, but obviously that option isn't on the table. It's always something. . .

CSI: Midget Invasion

2011-01-22T22:35:00.000-08:00

Lying has been a big problem in our house for a while now. Big enough, that tonight we cracked down. We found a wad of gum stuck to the banister, and of course every kid in the house claimed they had no idea how it got there. Pretty certain that the hubby and I hadn't done it and then forgotten, we decided to get serious about finding out who did it.

Lucky for us, whoever did it left a nice clear thumbprint in the gum. The hubby carefully peeled it off without compromising the print, and we went about the task of fingerprinting our children. Overkill? Maybe, but dagnabit, we were going to find out who did it.

It took a long time of comparing gum and said fingerprints. We even resorted to photographing them to blow them up and look. I took the first shift, and narrowed it down to two people. The hubby then took over, doing the nitty gritty work of discovering some sort of unique pattern in the gum that could help identify our culprit. During this time period jokes ensued about really having it done CSI style and giving each kid a wad of gum and having them smoosh it on the banister. After quite a while of being hunched over the gum and fingerprint sheet, the hubby suddenly looked much perkier, and asked Ryan back in to reprint him. We took some measurements and macro pictures of Ryan's thumb.

The evidence was overwhelming, and just like a CSI episode that is not a cliff hanger, Ryan broke down and confessed.

We had a good conversation with him about being glad he finally told the truth, and also about how we sympathize about how scary it can be to be honest. He was saddled with some chores as punishment, and there were hugs all around. Hopefully it taught him something, that when it comes to his parents not tolerating lying around here, sh*t just got real.

For fun, here's the pictures if you'd like to see the hubby's crack observation skills.

*click each to see bigger*

The gumprint:

Some key features he noticed:

Ryan's thumb:

Same features on Ryan's thumb (remember, a print is the mirror image of the finger):

*Puts on her cool sunglasses and walks off into the sunset*

Bookworm genes: They have been passed on!

2011-01-21T09:33:00.000-08:00

I have to toot my own horn here just a little bit. I posted sometime last year about the reading "program" we're doing here. Which is actually a non-existent program. Ryan had become so stressed out about reading that I decided we would just back off and let him take the lead. We have a million books around the house, we read to whoever asks, and we let the kids see us reading for fun. Last year, I did assessments on the older two kids, and both are reading above their grade level. The lack of pressure about reading brought Ryan out of his shell eventually. First he started reading comics, like Calvin and Hobbes, and now he's reading books. He's read a bunch of a condensed classics series. It includes things like "Sherlock Holmes" and "Treasure Island". He's now beginning the Harry Potter series. He actually *likes* reading.

Lindsay has been interesting to watch. We started this "hands off" approach to reading when she was kindergarten aged. Basically, it was either going to really work, or really not. She was stubborn about reading for me, so I backed off just like I did with Ryan. I thought maybe she hadn't been ready yet. A few months later, still concerned because I thought she couldn't read, I heard her curled up in a corner with Logan. She was reading a book to him. One with words like "beautiful", and she read through it just fine. So not only could she read, but she could read WELL.

Lindsay has fallen into a love of reading even more than Ryan has. It's been thrilling for me. Sometimes she'll disappear, and I'll find her curled up in bed with her latest book. I can't even begin to tell you how much my heart swells just then. I was raised in a family of bookworms. It was not uncommon on a Saturday night for everyone to be curled up in various corners of the house, each lost in their own books.

Now my children have joined those ranks. I've found out the hard part about all of this though. It's jogged my memory about all the books I LOVED when I was their age. It is taking a lot of self control to not overwhelm them with the 5 million books I want to share with them. It's worse for me with Lindsay than Ryan, because a lot of the books I read, I can't see him enjoying. ("Babysitter's Club", anyone?) Lindsay has read the Ramona books, and I admit I re-read them too. It's sparked memories of Judy Blume ("Superfudge"!), and all the other Beverly Cleary books("Ralph the Mouse"! "Henry and Ribsy"!), and Ann Martin, and "Little House on the Prairie", and "Bunnicula", and "Indian in the Cupboard", and and and. . .

It's going to be hard to find a way to share them all with her, without just dumping an enormous pile of books on her and saying "You should read ALL of these!" I'll find a way to deal with it, somehow, because the source of this temptation at the end of the day is the fact that the bookworm genes have passed on to the next generation, and I am STOKED.

So, what about you? What books were your favorites as a child?

Wordless Wednesday: Enjoying the macro lens way too much

2011-01-19T09:45:00.000-08:00

This and That

2011-01-13T21:12:00.000-08:00

Finally (maybe?) getting back into the swing of things after the holidays. This post will be disjointed and stream of consciousness, so what else is new, right?

(here, I'll even number it, so it will give the impression of being organized.)

1. We had a great Christmas. One of the best ones we've ever had, if not THE best one. We set up a new gift giving system and it worked so well, that's what we'll be doing from here on out. Our new system was that each of the six of us gave ONE gift to everyone else. The kids loved it. They each got to go shopping for everyone else, and they got to help wrap the gifts they were giving. They finally understood the concept of "Better to give than to receive." After they checked out what Santa brought, we did gifts by gift giver. E.g.- Ryan passed out his gifts to everyone else, and we all opened them together while he got to watch and enjoy the reactions. Then there were thank yous and hugs all around, and then it was the next person's turn to pass out what they were giving. It just. . .worked. The awesome side effect? The presents weren't just a huge pile that got torn through in five minutes flat, AND for the first year ever, not a single one of the children asked "Is that all?" Even though they each only opened 4 presents from our immediate family, it was enough. (They only really opened 4, because my gift was one for the whole family. A ginormous telescope!)

2.) New Year's turned out to go just as well. We did our usual of gorging on snack foods for dinner and drinking sparkling cider. Then we lit fireworks and sparklers outside until they were all used up and we were frozen. Everyone came in, warmed up with hot cocoa, and hung out until it was close to midnight. We all sat around the computer as a family and rang in the new year watching the live webcast from Times Square.

3.) The hubby stunned me this Christmas. There is a lens I have been pining for, for a really long time. It's an expensive one, though, so I told him to not even think about it. The lens was a macro lens. I've been trying to emulate macro photography with the lenses I had, because I think as a photographer, it's one of the places my heart really lies. Like I said though, macro lenses are $$$$. I opened one Christmas morning. I looked at my husband annoyed that he had spent money I specifically told him not to. That's when I opened another little gift he had wrapped up. It turned out to be a little tin containing a great deal of money. I looked at him, astonished and trying to get some answers. The answer left me shocked. The money in the tin was because he had sold his trombone. The hubby actually owns a few trombones, but this was THE trombone, the one he'd had forever and was his main horn for most of that time. I tried to tell him I couldn't accept it, that it was just TOO big of a gesture, but he waved me off. He says that he had outgrown that horn and didn't like it anymore, and one of his friends has a teenager who is getting serious about playing trombone, and they needed something for him. I'm still not quite over it, but I'm learning to accept it.

4.) Macro photography turns out, really IS my calling. Check out my Flickr set to see. New Macro Lens Set I've gotten quite a lot of buzz about those snowflake ones, and I've been pretty tickled by it.

5.) As you can see from those snowflake photos in my Flickr set, it snowed here in Georgia. Twice.

6.) I am now a ball of stress and will be for the next few weeks. We have to get our house "Company ready". I didn't find out this company was coming until this past weekend, and they will be here in 2 weeks or something like that. So, I am currently covered in paint and spackle, and probably will be for a while.

7.) Some stray cats are choosing to battle it out in our back yard and I'm pretty sure one of them is now under our house.

8.) I think it maybe time for a blog revamp. Maybe I'll even finally change the URL too. I'll have to keep you all posted on that. I think I'm finally ready to move away from the black, though.

Passing the torch

2011-01-02T16:40:00.000-08:00

Our oldest child has finally reached a milestone. The milestone where we allow him to play with fire, just like the hubby and I do on New Year's and the 4th of July. It's not only his age, but his personality that led us to this decision. Out of all the children, he is the most cautious, and in typical "first born" fashion, is the best at following set rules. It works out really well. Ryan gets to feel big and important, and the hubby and I get to sit back and watch instead of doing all the work.

The other kids were five kinds of jealous. Lindsay begged more than once to get to have a turn. A few minutes later, she was suggesting stacking fireworks on top of each other. That is when I turned to her and said ". .. and that's why you aren't ready to light fireworks yet."

Happy New Year!

2010

2010-12-31T15:13:00.001-08:00

What a wild ride this past year has been. Lots of good, lots of bad. I did have a plan to do a big recap of the year, like so many other bloggers, but I put it off, and here we are, 6 hours before the new year here. I would rather spend it with my family in our traditional way: eating junk food until we feel sick, playing games, lighting small fireworks, and watching the ball drop in NYC via webcast.

So, I just wanted to leave you with this. Despite all the negative things that happened this year, when I look back on 2010, THIS is what I am going to remember.

Happy New Year, y'all. I hope you find your one happy thing to remember, too.

An Environmental Debate

2010-12-29T12:47:00.000-08:00

Me: Which bags did you buy?

Hubby: These.

Me: Oh, well I usually buy these. They're made with wind energy, AND they are made with less plastic!

Hubby: Well, these are made with less money.

From us

2010-12-24T09:54:00.000-08:00

To You

(click to see full size)

The Crying Circle

2010-12-23T16:41:00.000-08:00

Lindsay: *crying because of something, I'm not sure what, then she begins to cry harder*

Lindsay: Daddy, crying is making my throat hurt!

Hubby: Well, then stop crying.

Lindsay: I can't, my throat hurts.

Visiting NYC with kids

2010-12-16T10:46:00.001-08:00

(because I'm lacking anything else to write about and I figured this might actually be a helpful post from me, for once.)

Many people out there seem terrified to visit New York with their children. I see friends making plans to visit the city, and additional plans for dropping their kids off at various relatives. I understand the fear about taking kids to the Big Apple; I used to be the same way. The summer of 2009 changed that, however. We visited NYC, and we did it with ALL four of our kids. (Who at the time ranged in age from 2 to 9) There were times it was stressful, sure, but overall it was an amazing experience, and I'm glad the kids got to be there.

First off, no matter how small your kids are, do NOT take a stroller. It will end up just being a pain in the butt. Hannah was still small enough that we couldn't expect her to walk the whole way, so we brought a carrier for her, and either the hubby or I would wear her on our back when she got tired. It was so much more convenient, and we felt even more justified every time we saw people struggling with a stroller on the subway or what have you.

Ah yes, the subway. It used to be a scary, scary place, and I think that fact tends to still be in the psyche of people who do not live in New York. It's still not somewhere I'd want to just hang out for the afternoon, but I have to tell you, we never felt nervous or in any danger of any kind. Sure, we saw our share of homeless guys wandering around muttering to themselves, but um, it's New York. The subway is also dirt cheap, especially if you get a day pass. The icing on the cake, when we bought our tickets, the person working the booth didn't charge us for the kids at all, and told us to just have them duck under the turnstyles. (Which we did, and no one ever gave us any grief for it.)

Planning is, obviously, essential. Even with riding the subway, visiting NYC involves a ton of walking. Tons of walking usually leads to cranky children, and thus, cranky parents, so mapping things out just right will save everyone a lot of grief. Learn from our mistake, where we decided to do the museum of Natural History, Central Park, and then walk to Times Square, all in one day. The kids actually took the whole thing a lot better than I did, but in hindsight, walking 25 city blocks after an already long day was not such a great idea.

One big thing to realize is that when you go with your kids, you are not going to get to see everything that you want. You can still see quite a bit though, and those things are made even more fun watching your kids see them. Plan for one activity in the morning and one for the afternoon. (e.g.-this morning we'll shop in Times Square, this afternoon we'll go to the Statue of Liberty) Here's where I am going to do a specific recommendation: if you are going to go to the Statue, go over to Liberty State Park. It's on the New Jersey side of the river, but it's a great place. We had a picnic lunch there before going to Ellis Island and the Statue. The views of Manhattan from that park are awesome, (it's where I took this) and you can also see the historic CRRNJ Terminal before hopping on the ferry.

Things we did not get to do: Broadway show, stay for more than 5 minutes at the WTC site, UN, Grand Central Station, or any museum other than the Natural History one.

Things we *did* get to do: Empire State building, Brooklyn Bridge, Statue of Liberty, Museum of Natural History, horse carriage ride through Central Park (the driver even let Lindsay drive for a while!), and shopping and dinner in Times Square. And that was with four kids, and in less than three days.

I can't explain how great it was to see my kids see that NY is a real place, and not just something they see portrayed in movies a lot. I think the point of this post was just to say: You CAN do it, and it's not as scary as you think is!

A Spark of Something

2010-12-01T16:58:00.000-08:00

Once, again, it's the holidays. Once again, I am having a hard time, which is part of why I have been so quiet. My family changed so rapidly over the last decade, that it's been at least that long since I have felt any sort of Christmas spirit. Every year I force it, for the sake of my kids, but deep inside I feel empty.

Recently, I decided to watch some TV from the 80's on Hulu. There was an episode of ALF that was a Christmas special. In that special, they highlighted something. Something that I had never fully read for myself, but upon hearing the small part in that episode, made me want to read it. I looked it up later and read the whole thing through, twice.

When I read it, there was a spark of something. It was just a twinge, somewhere deep inside me, and it was fleeting, but it was there. It gives me hope that someday there will be a Christmas that feels like Christmas again.

DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.' Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?

VIRGINIA O'HANLON.
115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET.

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood."

--New York's "The Sun" September 21, 1897

If Tarzan and Paul Bunyan had a baby. . .

2010-11-11T17:25:00.000-08:00

He would be my husband.

Let me explain. You see, this was my backyard earlier today.

If you were to scroll in on the picture, you might notice something funny about that tree.

What exactly was he doing up there?

Well, you see, we have a tree in our yard that has a rotting base. It's becoming more and more apparent that at some point it's probably going to completely rot through and the tree will fall. Most likely onto our fence and the busy road that runs by our house. Instead of paying tons of money to have some company come cut the tree down, the hubby is doing it himself. It's a very slow process, and it's something he tackles a little bit at a time.

Why is it taking so long?

Because we don't own a chainsaw.

Yes, ladies and gentleman, my husband has been cutting down a 50+ foot tree with a knife.

If we go back to the yard view, you can see that, slowly and surely, it's actually working.

And hey, if we're ever stranded on a strange island after a bright flash crashes our plane, I'll be confident that the hubby will be able to get firewood.

Holding my breath

2010-11-05T20:02:00.000-07:00

I've documented our struggle with Ryan a few times before. He's always been a. . .let's say "moody" child. Whether it's due to just normal preteen-ness or his brain injury or what, we'll never know for certain. All I know is that the last eighteen months have become increasingly difficult. Seeing him explode over minor things, while we stand there dumbfounded, has led to some days where I feel as an utter failure as a parent. A lot of the explosions lately have had to do with showering and helping around the house. He'll go into a complete rage screaming that we pick on him, and then when he's sent to his room, he goes nuclear.

It's really hard to like him sometimes. I feel a little guilty saying that, but I think parents should be able to admit that and not be judged. I love him to pieces, I'd lay down my life for that kid, but there are days where on just a basic human to human interaction level, I don't like him very much.

I was getting a bit concerned about the road we were headed down. His tantrums were getting worse, and he's not even hit puberty yet. I was afraid of what is going to happen when we add hormones to this mix. So one day a few weeks ago, I reached out. I reached out while he's still at an age where he actually still cares what his parents think about things. It was on one of his good days, he was calm, I was calm, the other kids stayed occupied quietly in the other room, probably building a nuclear warhead, but at least it was quiet. We were able to talk.

I let him know things that maybe we should have let him know a while ago. I saw his astonishment when I told him that his father and I actually want him to turn out better than us. I asked him if that surprised him, and he said it did. I acknowledged what a struggle a lot of things are for me and his dad, and that nothing would make us prouder than to see him turn into an adult who DOESN'T have those same struggles. I explained to him that it's why we do some of the things we do. Why we ride him about those things. So he'll learn now the things that we weren't taught as children.

Case in point-I'll just come out and admit it right now. I'm not the world's greatest housekeeper. I try really hard, but it's been a learning curve for me. One I'm still on and probably will be for the rest of my life. You see, I was never taught how to keep a house clean. Ever. I'm not going to air all my family's dirty laundry (pun sort of intended) on the internet, but. . .when you're sitting there thinking "Wait, what does she mean she was never taught? Does that mean. . .?" Yes, it probably means what you are thinking, and we'll just leave it at that. So I went from being a teenager in that environment, to being a wife with four kids, in eight years. There never was a time for me to learn.

I told all of that to Ryan, and I told him that's why we ask him to help around the house. That's why we ask him to clear the table, or unload the dishwasher, or pick up his room. So he'll learn the things I didn't. So he won't have to struggle as much as I have. So he can just be BETTER. (I also broached the showering topic lightly, saying that when we ask him to bathe, we are not being mean. We're doing it because we care about him and we want him to be healthy.)

We had this great conversation and I got to bare my soul to him a little bit, and it seems he listened. It's actually had a positive effect. He's really been trying lately, and I've been sure to show my appreciation when he does. He hugs me and talks with me in ways that he hasn't since he was much younger. I actually *like* being around him. Don't get me wrong, he still has his moments, but overall things are better.

I may have actually gotten through to him. So here I sit, holding my breath and hoping that it sticks.

Halloween recap, and then: A Rant

2010-11-01T22:52:00.000-07:00

As my kids have gotten older, I am enjoying Halloween more and more. They are all big enough that they help work on the pumpkins, they have definite opinions about their costumes, and when we trick-or-treat, they all run up to the door by themselves while we, the proud parents, stand from the edge of the driveway watching.

This year I really got into it, y'all. I decided on candy containers weeks before hand. In years past we've done the plastic pumpkins, the themed plastic ones that tend to fall apart if too much candy is in them, and we've even bought the fancy decorated bags. This year I decided once again to do bags, but I decided to get all June Cleaver with it. (May she rest in peace.) I bought black canvas tote bags and a variety of puff paints and let my kids have at it. They had a blast with it, the bags were uniquely THEM, they got compliments when we were out trick-or-treating, and they were proud. Heck, I was proud too, of myself for thinking of it, and of them for being so creative.

Then it was on to pumpkin carving. Otherwise known as "Where Meghann learns the valuable lesson: Pie pumpkins really aren't meant to be carved" Each year we get two big pumpkins for the adults, and four smaller pumpkins for the kids. Usually we get them from a local church that hosts a pumpkin patch, but this year I was lazy. I found myself at the store a few days before Halloween, rummaging through the sad pile of pumpkins that had been rejected by everyone else. I should have known there was a problem when we had to break out a saw to get the tops off the kids' pumpkins. The rinds on them had a layer that looked, and was just as hard as, wood. We ended up having to use a drill to make dots along the designs the kids had drawn. The kids that wanted to work were then able to kind of hack their way through. Some of the kids opted out and left it to me to carve. I really don't blame them. It was so hard that my hand hurt for hours afterward. Logan, bless him, did his whole one by himself, even though it took him about an hour.

Every year my pumpkin is a secret. I spend the whole month of October deciding, and then I create a template and transfer it to the pumpkin in a different room from everyone else. I'm very stubborn about it not being seen until I am done. In the past I've done a haunted house with ghosts, Batman, and a Wild Thing pumpkin. This year, with some brainstorming with my sister, I ended up doing one of the most epic characters of all time. Spaceman Spiff. He turned out pretty well I think.

Costumes were, once again, a big deal this year. Ryan decided pretty quickly, as did Logan. (A SWAT guy and skeleton, respectively.) The girls both wanted to be zombies though. I burst with pride and excitement at the opportunity, and helped them decide on what kind of zombie. In the end we went with zombie cheerleaders, and I'm happy to say that it was as epic as I thought it would be.

Click here to see a photo album chock full of everything I just talked about!

Ok, then on to trick or treating, and this is where I'll segue into my rant. We had a great time trick-or-treating, and we covered almost 2 miles of neighborhood. The kids got a ton of loot, and everyone went home happy. Well, there was ONE damper on our whole evening. The amount of effin' CARS. I'm not talking about normal people just driving through the neighborhood to get somewhere. (although that does annoy me, because HELLO it's Halloween and there are a million kids everywhere. Where do you have to go that's so important? Especially the ones that don't even SLOW DOWN???) So yeah, that annoys me, but I can deal with it. The thing that I got more and more pissed off about as the night went on, were the amount of people DRIVING house to house. Um, NEWSFLASH, we don't live in the country where houses are far apart. This is a regular neighborhood. With millions of kids darting all over the place. And it's dark. W....T....H?!?!? I think I saw no less than 10 cars of people doing it. It's not like they had some good reason either, like a handicapped child or bad weather. No, these were perfectly capable people being lazy turds, making the whole night more dangerous for the rest of us. (And the weather that night was PERFECT.) In one cul-de-sac, my kids had to dodge not one, but two vans full of people who were caravaning through the neighborhood. They pulled up to the house my kids were about to go to, and a ton of kids piled out of the vans and ran up to the door right in front of my kids.

I kept my cool at the time, but it was really hard. The amount of candy kids get on Halloween is supposed to be tempered with the fact that they had to do some work and exercise to get it. Not to mention the whole community aspect of it. Walking the streets of the neighborhood, exchanging smiles and greetings with neighbors you might not have ever seen before, and seeing all the kids in their costumes. It's one of my favorite parts of the whole thing. On one hand, it makes me sad what the people driving are teaching their kids. On the other hand, I'm pissed off that not only are they being lazy and missing out on the community, they are making it even more dangerous for everyone else.

Here it is more than 24 hours later, and I'm still just as flabbergasted about it as I was when we were trick-or-treating. Can anyone shed any light on what in the world is going through these people's minds?

A blurb about how skewed I am

2010-10-28T17:02:00.000-07:00

I have had my camera for five years now. We've been through a lot together, my camera and I. At one point, it was even submerged in water and I thought I had lost it forever. After letting it sit for a good 18 months, I discovered it still worked.

Here's where I show just how little I really think of myself: In the past few months, I've noticed that my pictures have been looking a lot better. There's a definite difference in the pictures I take now, and the ones I took when I first got the camera.

When I realized that, my actual reaction was to think that somehow the camera is taking better pictures since it got damaged. The camera has somehow improved.

It couldn't possibly be that *I* have gotten better, right?

Sigh.

More Randomness

2010-10-20T12:25:00.000-07:00

I guess this is kind of an update? Because I have been kind of silent lately? I really do think about blogging, but then I can't think of anything witty to write, feel depressed, and sit there eating chips and watching Desperate Housewives on Hulu without ever posting anything. Today I'm just going to bite the bullet and type up a bunch of random snippets about what we've been doing lately.

Snippet 1

The kids picked out their Halloween costumes, and I finally got everything together. Ryan is going as a SWAT guy, and Logan, a skeleton. The costumes I am really excited about though, are the girls. They are going as zombie cheerleaders. I am stoked, and it was really fun buying all the parts to create the look. I could use some tips on doing zombie makeup if anyone has done it before.

Snippet 2

Those that follow me on Twitter know that I had to face a huge fear earlier this week. The dentist. I am embarrassed to say how long it has been since I last went. I have good reason though, and even the dentist, after hearing what happened last time, responded with "I don't blame you." The last time I went to the dentist, it was BAD. Like, your worst nightmare, bad. At the time I had a pyogenic granuloma which had grown kind of large. Taking it out involved extracting two teeth, and at one point while the oral surgeon was pulling it, I could feel and hear cracking. I was freaking the eff out, and his response was "Oh you're fine", and he kept on pulling. I had gone into the dentist that day expecting a cleaning, and ended up with that, instead. To top it off, the granuloma grew back very quickly, and two weeks later I was referred to another oral surgeon, who sent me for an MRI. (I'm claustrophobic) And THEN, then he decided to remove the granuloma in the hospital under general anesthesia.

So, that was the last time I had visited the dentist, and it had been kind of a traumatic experience. I kept put the dentist off out of fear. Last week for some reason I got a glimmer of courage and seized it, calling a dentist and making an appointment. They were very nice, and despite my fears, I have no cavities! (I have to say I feel like I've cheated death or something with that.) They did some gum scaling, and I need to go back and have the rest done, but overall it was a MUCH different experience than last time. I didn't realize how tense I had been during my appointment until later that night, when I was sore from head to toe. Apparently I had been clenching every muscle in my body for the entire hour long appointment.

I will go back to have the rest of my treatment done, though. I promise. And it will not take years this time.

Snippet 3

Homeschooling is still going on. Some days good, some days bad. Some days really really bad. Today was a good day, however, and shows me that it still works, and we're doing ok. (I am a bit annoyed though. We did purchase some curriculum books when we started out. Expensive ones. Do the kids want to work in those? Oh of course not. The ones they do want to use? The workbooks from the dollar section at Target. Because they have stickers. SIGH.)

Snippet 4

The hubby finished an Army course that was really long this past week. It was the distance learning part of his ALC course. (training soldiers take to advance from Sergeant to Staff Sergeant) It had been stressful on everyone, and it's a huge relief now that he's done. He passed with a rockin' A average too!

Snippet 5

The hubby is still moving to Virginia sometime early next year. It's been mostly decided though that the kids and I will stay here. It's not an ideal situation, but with the housing market being what it is, it's the smartest right now. It will suck, but we're looking on the bright side. It will be much different than the deployments we've done in the past. Any time me and the kids start feeling overwhelmed and missing him? We can just pile in the car and drive up to see him. This also keeps our options open a bit, and gives us some time to build equity. Then the hubby will either re-enlist to come back to where we live now, or he won't, and he'll get a civilian job where we live now.

Snippet 6

I re-painted my toenails last night with a new brand of polish I found, and I'm kind of in love.

Randomness

2010-10-07T19:06:00.000-07:00

This was linked by someone I follow on Twitter. I think it's great and can't think of a post at the moment, as I'm fighting off some sort of bug, so I'm sharing this instead. It's made by a student at California Institute of the Arts. I think he has potential.

Now Things Are Beginning To Get Hard

2010-10-04T15:38:00.000-07:00

When you have a newborn, and are enduring sleepless nights and sheer exhaustion, you think "This is hard." Then you have a mobile baby who you can't let out of your sight for two seconds and you think "No, this is hard." Then you have a toddler, laying on the floor in the middle of a public place throwing a tantrum, and you think "No, actually this, this is hard." Etc. etc.

With each new phase your child moves into, new challenges arise, and you find that they are harder to deal with than the previous phase. (Now don't get me wrong, there are perks, too, that balance it all out. With everything I deal with right now, I can at least be comforted by the fact that I don't have to wipe anyone's butt anymore.) However, now Ryan is starting to reach the phase where I think I'd rather be having to wipe butts. Heck, give me a sleepless night with a newborn, or a toddler throwing a tantrum, over this.

Ryan is now a fifth grader, just one grade away from junior high. I hated junior high, and most of you out there probably did too. It's a miserable time, made even more miserable by other kids. The kids that choose to deal with feeling bad by making other people feel bad too.

The first hints of this were seen recently for us. Ryan went to a campout with a bunch of other boys, and apparently some bullying went on. He was pretty upset when he came home and told us what happened. I was upset too, when I heard. My first instinct was to jump in and save him. I gave pause though, and realized he's starting to get to the age where he's going to have to deal with some of it on his own. I then realized that as parents, we're going to have to be the ones to figure out when and how to jump in, and when we should just let him figure out.

This time, we did step in, as we felt what was said went way too far and should be addressed. I had a nice heart to heart talk with Ryan, too. I told him that this is probably going to happen more as he gets older, and he is going to have to decide, as a person, how he is going to handle things like this in life. On the one hand, you see those stories of kids being bullied so much they kill themselves, and that scares me. A lot. On the other hand, someday Ryan is going to be an adult, and there are still going to be bullies. I won't be able to swoop in and rescue him anymore.

I know part of my job as a parent is to teach him how to deal with it. The problem is, I was always terrible at handling it, and even now as an adult, I don't handle confrontation well. Somehow I've got to help my son navigate the next few years and come out the other side intact, when it's something that I was barely able to do at that same age. And that? That is HARD.

A Quick Trip

2010-09-27T16:29:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday the hubby got to spend his 36th birthday driving a rental truck full of jazz band equipment down to Savannah, Georgia for a gig. He might be mad at me for sharing his actual age, because for some odd reason he thinks he's old. I mean, obviously, he's such an old geezer, right?

It's amazing he can still find his pants.

Anyways, his Army jazz band was performing in this:

So our younger three kids and I went down to watch their performance on Saturday. (Ryan was at a campout, and what happened with that will get its own post later.) The concert was fun, and the hubby did great on his solo, which I'll link a video of at the end of this post.

I absolutely love Savannah, and can't wait to go back for a proper visit with my camera. The concert was in famed Forsyth Park, in the historic district, which is just amazing. Everything seems photogenic, and the entire place just drips with history.

Afterwards, we grabbed a quick bite to eat and then drove the long drive home. It was a long day, but I'm glad we went.

As promised, in case you haven't watched it yet after I plastered it on Facebook and Twitter, the song the jazz band did that features the hubby:

Wordless Wednesday: Yellowjackets

2010-09-22T12:47:00.000-07:00

(Well, not totally wordless, thought I'd explain a little. We have a yellowjacket nest in our front yard. Normally I try to leave pollinators alone, but these are in a spot where the kids (or the toddler that lives next door) could stumble on it and get stung. Being the increasingly crunchy people we are, we choose natural means instead of dumping poison into the ground.)

The Amazing Sleeping Logan

2010-09-16T21:21:00.001-07:00

I've been on a kick lately of looking back through older photos, and re-editing them, since I know so much more now than I did then. There is one time period in particular, when Logan was 2 to 3 years old, that I started noticing a trend.

That boy could sleep anywhere. Like any little boy, Logan was go-go-go, nonstop. He would literally just go until he fell over asleep sometimes. I do have pictures of some of the other kids sleeping in odd places, but Logan wins the crown for the most.

On the kitchen floor at a relative's house. Notice the rug as a blanket!

At the table, eating

At the table, eating

At the table, eating. (See a theme yet?)

On the stairs (I think this one takes some talent!)

A combo of on a kitchen floor, and eating (for kicks, click this one to view it bigger. YES. He was sound asleep like that.)

Wordless Wednesday:A Preteen

2010-09-15T21:41:00.000-07:00

(better late than never)

A Difficult Subject

2010-09-13T13:00:00.000-07:00

We have plowed into a brand new school year, with Ryan as a fifth grader, Lindsay in second, and Logan and Hannah doing preschool work. I have continued my laid back methods of teaching, and so far things are going well. Almost too well at times, though.

You see, most of the time, we start off on one subject, usually chosen by the kids, sometimes by me. But then, then we go off on a tangent. And then another. And another. The kids lead the conversation, asking new things, and we head to the set of encyclopedias or good old Google.

Most of our "lessons" are actually just long conversations. This works well for us. The trouble is, I have bright children. While I am happy about this, at the same time, it means things can get very hard, very quick. Today is a good example of what I mean. I did a bit of nudging today with the lesson, instead of letting them just pick. Last week, we had made a game out of figuring out the names of all fifty states. Today, I told each of them to choose a state they wanted to learn about. Any state out of the fifty was fair game. Ryan chose Florida, and Lindsay chose Ohio. Lindsay was done pretty quickly. She looked up the things in the encyclopedia I had asked her to find out, and she had fun drawing on the little map of the state I had printed out for her.

Ryan had a bit more of a difficult time, so I helped him and we worked through it together. Then a tangent started about hurricanes. Ryan is a worrier, always has been. It's something we really try to keep in check but I haven't had as much success with that as I'd like. So when Ryan thinks of Florida, one of the first things he thinks of is not white sand or beautiful water. It's hurricanes.

I went with it though, pleased that our "social studies" requirement for the day had been met, and we were moving into science. We talked about how hurricanes form, where they tend to go, jet streams, etc. Then he started asking about where hurricanes hit, and somehow or another, we ended up talking about Katrina. (I think it happened when we were looking at a webpage that listed the different storm tracks of recent hurricanes or something.)

I'm confident as a teacher until we get to these moments. Trying to explain Katrina to him, without overwhelming him, was tricky, and I'm still not sure I did it right. I don't want to lie to him, I want him to be informed. I know he's starting to get to the age where he is going to learn all sorts of things that are not happy. (Wars, the Holocaust, and racism come to mind) But I don't want to give more fuel to his worry prone personality either.

I have to admit I'm a bit stumped on how to go about it. I can't keep it from him, but he's such a sensitive kid, I don't know how to keep it from damaging him. Or is it damage that I should just let happen to him, and try to just be there for him? I don't want him to end up with an ulcer or something.

Thoughts from the peanut gallery appreciated on this one.

And then she was 4

2010-08-23T10:36:00.000-07:00

During my absence from blogging, there were two birthdays around here. Hannah's, and mine. Our birthdays are a mere three days apart, with mine coming first. This year was the big 3-0 for me. I tried to ignore it, but Facebook wall posts were rampant, and the hubby and kids threw me a little party here at home. It wasn't so bad, really. About a month before my birthday, I had started being unhappy about it, but now that we're a few weeks into my thirties, I'm feeling better. It really helps that I actually did make my goal. My weight loss goal, that is. Well, technically I'm five pounds away from my ideal weight goal, but it's close enough. I've lost about 25 pounds, and with the exception of my butt, I'm pretty happy with how my body is looking. It was an important goal to me, to start off my 30's with a body I'm happy with, so I am quite proud that I actually made it.

Anyway, a few days later, Hannah turned four. Such a bittersweet thing for me, because if we were doing public school, she'd be old enough for pre-k this year. I have all school aged kids now. It's something that makes me extremely proud and extremely sad at the same time. (and I know as they get older that feeling is only going to get worse.)

Hannah had decided on a fish birthday, and I decided to make an awesome cake. I searched the internet for ideas, and bought many different things, and then sat down to work. I was actually pretty happy with how the cake turned out, and I think Hannah was too.

About the time I had a baby animal in my bra

2010-08-19T19:46:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, I was on one of my daily walk/runs. During a certain stretch, I noticed the smell of something dead. As I got closer, I noticed it was a possum that had been hit by a car. It was pretty decimated, and I tried to not look too closely as I walked by, but some movement caught my eye.

At first, I thought it was a mouse, scavenging the body. (Ick.) As I walked by, I noticed that it looked different, and I came to realize that it was a baby possum. I walked on, as I had planned on doing 4 or 5 miles that day, and I wasn't even at the halfway point yet. As I kept walking, my conscience got heavier and heavier, and I turned around and went back.

I stood there on the sidewalk, watching the baby crawl around on its dead mother and tried to decide what to do. Perhaps a sane person would have been able to toughen up, and walk on, claiming something about the course of nature. I watched as the baby tried to nurse, and all "sanity" went out the window. I resolved to rescue him.

Then began my dance where I had to figure out how to go about it. There was NO way I was going to touch the body of the mother. It was just gross. I found a stick, and had some idea to try to gently nudge the baby away so I could pick him up. I'd stop every time a car got close, as it crossed my mind what it would look like, a grown woman poking at a dead possum along the side of the road with a stick. I wanted to keep some semblance of dignity.

After a while of this, I finally was able to coax the baby on top of the mom, and I swooped in and scooped him up. Then began my mile and a half walk back to the car, the whole time in my mind thinking "I am insane. Completely insane." The fact I was talking to the possum most of the way probably proved that point. I got to the car, sat down, and called the husband to ask him to have an old towel and a shoe box ready. His response was something along the lines of "Um, ok. Why?" I responded with a "You'll see" and left it at that. He didn't push the issue. I guess being married to me this long, he's learned to just go with it.

Now, I know what some of you out there are thinking. "Ew! A possum? A POSSUM?!" Yes, I know, adult possums are not some of the cutest animals on the planet. They squick me out too. Trust me. But the babies? Specifically this baby? Well, have a look for yourself:

I just couldn't leave him by the side of the road, nursing on his dead mother's body. Could you? Well, maybe you could, nevermind, don't answer that.

Anyways, we journeyed home, and after he had been shown to all the humans who live here, I sat at the computer to figure out what on earth to do. I knew we weren't going to keep him, but it was also the weekend, and it was next to impossible to get a hold of anyone. After researching online about what to do in the meantime, the hubby went off to the store for some pedialyte and a syringe, and I kept searching for a wildlife rehabber.

The possum didn't like the box, and I knew it was essential to keep him warm. I sat there, with him in my hand, reading about possums being marsupials, when it dawned on me. I had a pouch, of sorts. I was wearing a sports bra, and plopped him right down in it, where he promptly curled up and went to sleep. (because you know, I wasn't feeling crazy enough already) I felt less crazy though when I talked with a friend whose mother used to rehab wild animals, and that friend said that her mom used to keep baby animals in her bra too. So ha HA, less crazy! Sort of.

That's where he stayed for the following 36 hours, which was how long it took to find someone to take him. I'd take him out to feed him and have him go to the bathroom, and after exploring my lap for a while, he'd inevitably climb back into my bra on his own. He seemed happy, and it definitely goes down in the books as one of the weirdest days of my life.

The kids and I finally took him to drop him off, at a local vet that takes wild animals. I walked in with the kids, and filled out the paperwork. The receptionists asked where he was, and I sheepishly answered that he was in my shirt. Bless them, they didn't even bat an eye, one of them even telling me they once had a lady pull a baby chihuahua out of hers. I handed him over, to a bunch of "Aww"s from the ladies behind the desk, and the kids and I went home.

I know we did the right thing, and that we left him in good hands. It was harder than I thought handing him over, even the hubby had gotten attached in the short time the baby possum was with us. I feel good about it though, and I hope we taught the kids some valuable lessons as well.

Godspeed little dude.

Honesty

2010-08-17T17:54:00.000-07:00

Hey look! I'm still alive!

So. SO. A lot has happened here in my neck of the woods since I last posted. Things that deserve their own posts, and they will get them. Things like a baby animal living in my boobs (long story!), and birthdays that resulted in Hannah turning four, and me turning. . .30.

During the time I was "away" I had found a new group of friends on the internet. A different niche out there that I fit very well into. Within a few months, I made some fast friends, and would spend parts of my day chatting with them in a chat room, and really reveling in the fact I was getting to talk to adults. Adults that I had a lot in common with, mentally. (Meaning, sarcasm and "That's what she said" jokes were rampant.)

And then, there there was "teh dramaz", as there always is eventually on the internet. Usually I am able to coast through it, waiting for it to end to see what the fallout is. This time, however, I was deeply involved.

Tangent- here is where I should admit something. Underneath this hard crunchy exterior, I am a pile of goo. A naive pile of goo at times, even. I take people at face value, and I always have. If someone presents themselves a certain way, I believe it. Especially when it is a friend. I believe my friends when they tell me things. I am someone that values honesty and trust A LOT. I am also someone that sees my online friends as REAL friends. I think the internet has been a highly valuable tool for people like me, who are a bit socially inept. I am able to make friends easier, and by the time I get to meet someone in person, we have been talking long enough online that we know each other, and things aren't awkward. (or if I am awkward, they know me well enough from online correspondence to know to ignore it, that I'm just awkward sometimes.) I am inherently an honest person, and I just expect the same in return from my friends.

Well, when the drama exploded, people that I had thought were good friends, it turned out, were not. I had been lied to quite a bit, and I got pretty hurt. Hurt enough that I quit that social circle all together, and I was completely away from the internet for almost a week. I'm inching back in, but I am being very careful about where I go and what I do. (even by writing up this blog post, I am delaying having to check my main email. There are emails in it from the whole drama thing that I haven't read yet, and it's made me dread opening it at all. But I know I have to, because that *is* my main account after all, and I may have email there that I WANT to read.)

So that's where I've been. I'm being cautious with how much I interact online, and I hope that you all out there can understand why. I just still need some time to be unconnected I think, to regroup, and figure out how much I want to be online, and what my purposes in being so will be.

I still love every one of you, though. Honest.

Things Learned in the Great Smoky Mountains

2010-07-20T19:47:00.000-07:00

1. Bugs exist that will haunt my dreams for years to come.

2. Having no plans are sometimes the best plans of all.

3. Sitting in a hot tub under the stars is a good thing.

4. It's dark in the mountains at night. Dark enough that even the dog will be freaked out and refuse to pee until the sun comes up.

5. Our dog can hold her pee for a REALLY long time.

6. I can burn through over 200 pictures at one spot on an outing.

7. People will cause a traffic jam to take a photo of deer.

8. People will also walk TOWARDS a bear, even if all they are armed with is a camera.

9. Turns out, I am one of those people.

10. After such an amazing weekend, where we live seems really boring.

A Quick Breather

2010-07-05T12:05:00.000-07:00

We finally made it through the weekend. The hubby has been working a ton lately. (Only one full day off in the last three weeks) For the holiday weekend, he had three different Independence Day celebrations to perform at, and the rest of us attended every one of them.

Now we're trying to recover, but at the same time, we're having to get ready for our big trip, considering the plan is to leave Wednesday night. So, true to form, I'm sitting here in a paralyzed ball of stress. Fun!

Here are some pictures of the festivities of the weekend.

July 2nd at Fort Gordon

July 3rd in Barnwell, SC

July 4th at our local county park

Distraction

2010-06-30T16:54:00.001-07:00

Imagine the scene: The hubby is playing some sort of computer game where a bunch of very small balls are trying to get inside a very large ball, while Lindsay watches. (No clue what game, but are you picturing it? Yes?)

Lindsay: Are those sperm?

The hubby: Look over there, something shiny!

Old

2010-06-26T20:14:00.000-07:00

Lindsay: How old are you?

Me: 29.

Lindsay: So on your birthday you're going to be 30?

Me: Yup.

Lindsay: That's old.

Me: *looks sad* It is?

Lindsay: *puts her arm around me* Don't worry it's not THAT old. When you get to be like. . . .48, then you'll be REALLY old.

Me: Ah.

An Open Letter to Taco Bell

2010-06-24T17:10:00.001-07:00

(because I need to post about something less heavy)

Dear Taco Bell,
We've had a long relationship, you and me. I've never really been that into burgers, so you've always been my favorite fast food place, despite your best efforts to turn me away. You keep making changes over the years, and they are ones that are actually not very bright ideas. I stay because I still don't like burgers very much, but I have to say, lately you're really starting to tick me off.

For one thing, who on earth's "bright" idea was it to introduce new combos that have THE SAME numbers as existing combos? I can't see how this was a logical idea. Any time someone orders let's say, a combo number 4, the person taking the order has to verify if it's a COMBO number 4, or a "Meal Deal" number 4. Not only does this add time, but it raises the chances for mistakes. My poor husband, even after verifying with the voice on the other side of the drive thru speaker that yes, he wanted a COMBO number 1, got home and opened up the bag to find he had gotten the other number 1 instead. Since he was already all the way home, he didn't feel like returning to fix things, so instead he ate as much as he could of the wrong food and then had to rummage in the fridge.

I'm going to be gracious and not even mention the fact that the prices are starting to get ridiculous. ($7 for one of the combos? Really?!)

Where you are really letting me down though, is the de-evolving of one of my favorite foods on your menu. The mexican pizza has been around for a really long time. I remember getting it sometimes as a treat when I was a kid. They were completely amazing back in the day. The black olives were the first to go, and I still mourn them to this day. The chives were next. There was even a point in there where the tomatoes were gone too because of a recall. At least those are back. The next thing to go was the pizza being cut into four pieces. I have to say that one really pisses me off. Especially when you get it in the drive thru and then get somewhere else to find out they didn't give you any utensils to eat it with either. This food that was once (for me) the pinnacle of the Taco Bell menu has definitely slid backwards. A lot. People are expecting this:

And instead, they open up that little box to find this:

And of course I was given nothing to eat it with. Not fun when I am sitting in a car, starving, and trying to not get messy.

I want to bring something to your attention though, not *only* are my beloved olives and chives gone, and the pizza not even cut for me, but I have to ask you to take a close look at this:

Do you see what is wrong with this picture? See that tortilla sitting right there? Does that look like a flaky and crispy flour crust for my mexican pizza? Does it? Of course it doesn't, because IT'S NOT. Instead it was half stale tostada shells.

W-T-F, Taco Bell?!?!? So not only, NOT ONLY was it not cut and I wasn't given a utensil, the tortillas were hard to break and half chewy and basically meant I was eating a fancy tostada, which is NOT what I paid for.

This had better have been a fluke. If this is the latest "change" to the mexican pizzas, I'm totally breaking up with you.

Signed,
me

Wordless Wednesday

2010-06-23T17:04:00.001-07:00

A Season of Change

2010-06-20T17:01:00.000-07:00

Earlier this year, the hubby had a chance at getting a certain job within the Army. It was a teaching job, and would have meant years of stability for us, which in the military is a priceless thing. The opportunity fell through, and we were, obviously, disappointed. When that happened, I formed a new dream. You see, the hubby's contract is about to expire with the Army, and we had been talking about the possibility of him not renewing. My brain latched on to that dream and held it tight. We love where we live right now. We have awesome neighbors, an amazing house, and the area we're in is relatively safe, and very homeschooling friendly. It's perfect for us here.

So, I had this dream. A dream where we could be like, NORMAL. Normal people who can choose where they live, and the hubby working for an employer that couldn't just decide on a whim to send him to a war zone. It was a beautiful dream.

A dream that in the past week, was stomped on, set on fire, thrown out the window, and run over by a truck. In short, that dream isn't happening. I. . .have not responded very well to this I must say. Adulthood kind of slapped me in the face this week and I really didn't like it.

(Tangent-Look, I know the economy sucks and healthcare sucks, and the military is getting so full that they're turning people away and the hubby is lucky to have such a steady job and health insurance, yadda yadda yadda. Dude, y'all, I KNOW. Sometimes your brain knowing something is best, isn't enough.)

So, the hubby is reenlisting. He was given a few options for where we could go. The options were ones we ended up agonizing over, for days. We probably would have taken even longer deciding, but the hubby doesn't have time to waste if he wants to reenlist, as the window for getting to do that is closing. Our options were A.) Me and the kids stay here while the hubby goes to Korea for a year, then he would be restationed where we already are. This is known as the "Money option". Korea would be extra pay and we'd get to stay in our house longer and build some more equity. B.) Get stationed at a base very close to my family. This is the "Family option". With the family option, we'd be only 2 hours away from my dad, grandparents, and various aunts and uncles. I realized while we were discussing this option that I haven't lived in the same state as my dad since I was 5 years old. This option was really really really appealing to me. Getting to live near family is a rare luxury in the military. C.) The hubby gets stationed at one of the Army's cooler bands. This is the "Job option". His job would be getting the oportunity to play for foreign dignitaries and inaugurations and stuff. Also, the location of the base itself is in a really pretty area close to a lot of neat things. (and is only 10 minutes down the road from the teaching job we had been pining over.)

It was quite a quandary. The stress of it was enough that I mostly just wanted to hide under the covers with a bowl of ice cream until it all went away. I even completely broke down one night, crying so hard my sinuses still don't feel right, 4 days later. All I could think was "I DON'T WANT THIS." I wanted my dream. My reality though was having to choose between my family, my husband getting to have a cool job, or getting to stay in the area and house I love so much, but there was that whole thing of living yet another year apart from my husband.

It sucked, y'all.

Friday night the decision was made. We're sticking with it, even though it hurts not getting to choose the other options. We went with option C. I just can't send my husband away for a year, and while I love my family, I don't want to make my husband work in a job where he's unhappy just so I can live near them. I don't think anyone would win that way.

It was interesting to see that I actually did go through the grieving process over this past week. Lots of denial, then bargaining, then anger. Now I'm kind of floating in the depression phase, trying to push myself into the acceptance phase. I am forcing myself to try to be excited. Hopefully I'll get there. Hopefully it will be before we move, because that is supposed to happen in about 6 months, and we are nowhere near ready to move that quickly. I need to get excited so I'll have the motivation to get stuff done. For now though, I can probably be found under the covers, eating ice cream.

Yet Another Birthday Kid

2010-06-14T11:57:00.000-07:00

Every year, for every one of our kids' birthdays, I'm always left saying I can't believe "insert name" is "x" years old now. Sometimes I wonder if it gets tiring for other people to hear. I can honestly say though, with every birthday, every year, that feeling of astonishment is genuine.

Today, I can't believe Logan is 6 years old. Logan was our surprise baby, the one we didn't know we needed. His path hasn't been easy so far. His reality is full of various therapies and sensory issues. I feel bad for him at times, especially when he is playing with other kids his age, and the differences become even more marked. Thankfully though, he doesn't notice yet.

There are lots of victories this past year. He is finally getting into swimming pools some, and is learning his shapes and colors. Letters and numbers are still a far off concept, but I'm confident he'll get there someday. His sentence structure has come along in leaps and bounds, and he graduated from physical therapy. He's also gaining more independence and confidence all the time. "I do it, I'm big!" He's also such a good natured soul, and I hope life doesn't beat that out of him as he gets older.

Later today I'm making a pirate birthday cake, and we're going to celebrate 6 years of getting to have Logan as a part of our family.

Happy Birthday, kiddo.

Question of the Day

2010-06-13T13:19:00.001-07:00

Is Hannah old enough to be left unsupervised for a few minutes yet?

The answer is NO. Definitely not.

And after she was thoroughly scrubbed, still a Smurf.

The Answer

2010-06-11T13:24:00.000-07:00

From yesterday's post:

It's sunlight through tree sap. a.k.a. AMBER.

(Yeah, I know.)

A Glimpse of Married Life

2010-06-10T16:19:00.000-07:00

(or at least MY married life anyways.)

The hubby emails me the following picture and message:

What color does this look like to you? Hint its a picture i took yesterday of something actually named a color.

The following conversation ensues:

Hubby: Did you get it yet?

Me: No, I have no idea.

Hubby: What color is it?

Me: Yellow?

Hubby: :(

Me: What?! It's a yellow thingie surrounded by purplish looking stuff.

Hubby: *sigh* But what color is it?

Me: It's yellow.

Hubby: But what's a PALE yellow?

Me: Lemon?

Hubby: *SIGH*

Me: Banana?

Hubby: This is not going in the right direction.

Me: I TOLD you, I have NO IDEA!!!!!

Hubby: Am I asking too much?

Me: YES.

Hubby: *precedes to tell me what it is*

Me: Seriously?! I was supposed to get that?!?!?!

Hubby: *sigh*

Me: I am totally blogging this.

And, in the spirit of insane fun, and to show I'm not totally dense not getting what this was, I'll wait till tomorrow or so before I post the answer. That way, everyone can throw their guesses out, and I can show the hubby that no, this wasn't exactly an obvious thing.

Random Thought

2010-06-09T17:27:00.000-07:00

(And to show that I really am perpetually 12 years old.)

The name of my toothpaste makes me snicker every time I go to brush my teeth. EVERY. Time.

Burn To Disc

2010-06-08T10:28:00.000-07:00

We took an impromptu (I love using that word) vacation this past weekend. Wednesday afternoon, the hubby let me know he was going out of town for two days, and was um, leaving the next morning. Before I could be all HULK-SMASH on him, he said those magical words: "Why don't we go to the beach?"

Those that know me, know that the beach is the equivalent of Valium for me. The hubby had to be in Savannah to play a gig, but would be done by noon on Friday. So, after much internet searching and phone calls, I found us a place to stay on Tybee Island starting Friday afternoon. We were able to stay until Monday morning. We packed a lot into those few days. Things that I didn't necessarily have a camera for, but want to remember. (Even though I am a complete shutterbug, I do understand the importance of purposely leaving the camera behind sometimes, so I'll *do* and not just take pictures of the rest of the family *doing*.)

We stayed in a house on the marsh side of the island that had its own private dock, which we used a lot, when we weren't on the beach getting fried. (Even with using SPF 70 waterproof sunscreen and reapplying many times, we all still got burned. In stupid ways too, like just *one* of my shoulders. Awesome.)

Anyways, some amazing things happened over the weekend that I am purposely trying to burn into my brain so I can carry them with me for all time.

-Getting caught in the rain with Logan. We had been on the beach shell hunting, and the others had already gotten back to the car. I had trailed behind with Logan, and we were taking our time getting back. That's when the rain hit. Hard. It poured and we got soaked and were freezing. We had fun with it though, and spent the time making our way to the car by pretending we were swimming in the ocean looking for our submarine.

-Sitting on the beach as a family, each person intently working on making their own sand castle.

-Me noticing some weird creatures in the water burying themselves in the sand. The hubby caught one and we put it in a bucket and spend some time watching it with the kids before we let it go. (I've been googling and still can't figure out what it was. . .)

-Watching the crabs from the dock. There were tons, ranging in size from a couple of inches across down to some that were smaller than my fingernail.

-Shell hunting on a beach where there were so many shells the waves made a different sound.

-Sitting on the dock fishing with Ryan and Lindsay, our bare feet dangling in the water, enjoying the quiet and stillness that was only occasionally broken by a fish jumping or a distant sea gull, with the most amazing sunset overhead being reflected in the water. One of my favorite moments I've experienced as a human being.

cdburn MYBRAIN: thesememories.iso

A Conversation With Lindsay

2010-06-03T13:22:00.000-07:00

Lindsay decides to practice playing piano, and then comes to me and asks me what a certain song is. She begins humming "Fur Elise". I look up a recording of it for her, and we listen to it.

Me: This is by Beethoven, who also did Ode to Joy, which you played in your recital.

Lindsay: Was Beethoven a famous composer?

Me: Um, yes.

Lindsay: He's my favorite.

Me: Cool.

Lindsay: I wish I could meet him.

She sighs and looks wistful.

Lindsay: What did he look like?

I google it for her, and it leads to a page with some random trivia about him.

Me: He started to go deaf in his 30's, and was completely deaf when he wrote his Ninth Symphony.

Lindsay: So he couldn't hear the people clapping for him?

Me: Nope, two musicians had to turn him around so he could see the audience clapping.

She looks devastated.

Me: Hey, you'll like this, it says here his favorite foods were macaroni and cheese, fish and potatoes, and bread pudding!

She gasps.

Lindsay: Macaroni and cheese?! That's one of MY favorite foods! We must be related a little bit.

She looks smug, and then walks back to the piano and begins playing again, writing the notes of the song she is making up in crayon on a piece of paper.

(Who knows, maybe in 200 years there will be a young piano player learning about Lindsay, the famous composer. A mom can dream.)

Some Reassurance I'm Not Totally Screwing Up

2010-06-01T09:50:00.000-07:00

Mommy guilt is such a lovely thing. When I sent my kids to public school, I always felt I was doing the wrong thing. Since we've been homeschooling, I've been certain we're doing the right thing for them, but there is always this nagging doubt in the back of my head. This little voice saying "What if you are totally screwing them up?"

Last night I was able to get a little ammunition against that voice. I've discussed before that we lean more towards a Montessori approach. Our household is more about having things available, and letting the kids take the lead. Usually the only worksheets that get printed are coloring pages, usually for a topic the kids have picked. One of the areas we've been the most hands off in, is reading.

Ryan has always been resistant to reading, to the point where he really seemed to hate it. We were never sure exactly why, but any time he was asked to read something, he would get really tense and uptight, and would say it was too hard. I always wondered if he had been pushed too hard too soon in public school, or if he really had some sort of reading issue.

So, I decided that we wouldn't push reading. At all. I figured I would let Ryan rest a bit, and see what would happen. We have a million books available in our house. Everything from coloring books, to kid science books, to fiction. Pretty much anything a child could think of to want to read about, we probably have something. These past two years though, we've suggested reading as an activity, a lot. We've read to the kids, a lot. I've also tried to make more of an effort to show my love for reading, by reading books when the kids are around.

It's been two school years now of me not doing any sort of formal reading program with the kids. I have to say, I think it's working. The biggest change we've noticed, is Ryan reads now, for fun, of his own accord. That has been a recent development in the past few months, and I have to say we're thrilled. Before now, the only things he would read without complaint were comic books. (Which I have to say aren't all bad either, because it *is* still reading, but I digress. . .) These past few months, he has been picking out books with more and more words. There have now been nights where I check on the kids to make sure they're sleeping, and I'll find him in bed, reading. It's been an amazing thing.

On the flip side of the coin, we have Lindsay. The child who always swore she couldn't read, and then I would hear her reading to her younger siblings, getting words right that made my jaw drop a little bit. It's been interesting to see how her reading skills develop, because our first two years homeschooling have been during the time she would have been learning to read in public school. We've done the same thing with her as we've been doing with Ryan, which is reading to the kids when they ask, having tons of books around, and helping her sound out words when she asks. That's it.

Last night, Lindsay showed me a book she wanted to read that said it was for third graders on it. She asked me if she could read it, and I said it was okay. The conversation got me wondering what their reading levels really are though. I found multiple different tests online, and chose three, figuring between the three we'd get a more accurate level.

The results were surprising, in a very good way. Lindsay, who is seven, and is a first grader, scored as reading at a late third grade level. Ryan, who just turned ten and is a fourth grader, scored at an early sixth grade level.

So, if anything, at least I know we're doing the reading thing right.

What 11 Years Looks Like

2010-05-28T11:57:00.000-07:00

This past Wednesday, we celebrated our 11th anniversary. It's been quite a ride so far.

Living in the Deep South

2010-05-20T09:29:00.001-07:00

Even though I grew up in Texas, moving here to Georgia has been a bit of a culture shock. You see, Texas is not "The South", and actually anyone from Texas will get offended if you suggest it is. It's not. (and it's not part of the Southwest or West either, which is a whole other discussion.)

Anyways, moving here has shown me that people in movies like "Steel Magnolias" and "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil" really DO exist. (I know the second one is based on a true story, that's beside the point.) Since we've moved here, we've experienced a Confederate Day at Fort Pulaski, complete with a kid asking questions like "Why do you think we lost the war?" We. As in, the Confederacy. It's amazing that people still think along those lines. Enough so that they are teaching their children to think that way as well.

The city we live in is full of idiosyncrasies. Downtown, there is a James Brown Arena. There is also a statue of James Brown. At the same time, a few blocks away, stands this monument:

That side says "Our Confederate dead". We won't discuss what one of the other sides says, although if you're really curious, I'm sure Mr. Google will help you out. Let's just say we hurried our kids past it before they could read it. That's not a lesson I am quite ready to tackle with them yet.

It's not been all bad though. Quite the opposite in fact. They actually have seasons here, which is something Texas doesn't, unless you count "Kinda cold, hot, and even hotter" as seasons. Lately around here, the honeysuckle has been blooming. So much so, that on one of my nightly walks, the air was full of the smell of them. It was like God had sprayed perfume on the planet. It was amazing.

There are also mornings that look like this:

And activities for our kids that involve this:

(yes, Lindsay went to a true Southern tea party where the hats were big and the tea was cold and sweet)

So, despite some of the stuff discussed earlier on in this post, I have to say that living here is growing on me.

Blogging Without Makeup

2010-05-14T10:42:00.000-07:00

Got this from The Bloggess. The idea is to post a picture of yourself with no makeup. Celebrate the beauty of who we are, the real woman, yadda yadda yadda. Now, for me, the no makeup thing is actually pretty normal. I only wear makeup when I dress up. I never wear it day to day, as it's one of my sensory issues. The hard part of this though is posting a picture of me at all, since I rarely have pictures taken of me, let alone posted online. And especially not without some photo editing magic.

But, I figured, why not? It's not like I have anyone to impress. The only tricky part was getting a shot with the kids in the vicinity. They are OBSESSED with my webcam, and it led to most shots looking like this:

I finally was able to click at the right nanosecond a while later, so here I am, completely unedited and raw. (and recovering from a 4 day long migraine.)

Tada.

Last Ditch Effort

2010-05-03T10:30:00.000-07:00

This upcoming Saturday is my area's walk for the March of Dimes. I know the economy is still not puppies and rainbows. However, this cause is super important to our family. People who know us, or who know us through this blog have read some of the stories. Ryan, our oldest, was born with an injury to his brain that caused massive bleeding. He was in the NICU and had a very uncertain future. Lindsay had a birth defect that thankfully resolved itself, but did result in some scary times when she was a tiny baby. Logan and Hannah were both preemies. Organizations like the March of Dimes do research that has made advancements in how doctors treat babies like my kids. Not that long ago, some of my kids might not have survived.

I'm asking everyone to donate just $10. (you can donate more if you want!) Just $10 from each person can add up to a lot, without breaking the bank. And you can feel good knowing that money is going towards helping babies like this:

Turn into kids like this:

To donate, go here: http://marchforbabies.org/mcleroy

Today's Lesson

2010-04-28T11:23:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while I give y'all a peek into our homeschooling world. Some days are way more laid back than others. Today is one of those days. A day where the kids have no idea that what they are doing is schoolwork. I personally think these are my favorite days.

I handed Lindsay and Ryan a pad of paper and a pencil and threw them outside. They were charged with the task of identifying how many different plants are growing in our backyard. (We have an abundance of weeds this year) They think this is an exciting game! They get to be in the backyard! And they get to DRAW! What they don't realize is they are learning. Learning about classifying things and noticing details. I also told them to feel free to come up with names for the ones they don't know, which is great for fostering their creative sides.

It also gets them out of the house so I can get laundry done. Win-win!

Saying goodbye to an old friend

2010-04-17T20:21:00.001-07:00

Friday afternoon, as I was vacuuming the living room, there was a loud pop. The vacuum cleaner noise got super loud, and an electrical smell started coming out of it. I quickly turned it off, checked the roller and the belt, and finally resorted to taking it apart.

Eventually I found the culprit. A plastic piece that helps hold the engine in place had snapped off. I knew at once that even though it was a really simple thing that was broken, that I wouldn't be able to fix it. You see, this vacuum is somewhere in the neighborhood of 15 years old. There is no way I would be able to find a replacement plastic thingy.

I finally realized the inevitable, did some online research, and then went to the store and bought a new vacuum.

I felt (and still feel) a little ridiculous, because I am feeling sentimental about the old vacuum. It was more than just a vacuum though. It was one of the vacuums that my grandparents (the dead ones) had used in their cleaning business. They gave it to me after I got married. It was a simple little vacuum that had been tweaked a bit by my grandfather to up the power. I had been proud of that thing, and every time I used it I would think of them.

I was able to finally come to terms with getting rid of it when I thought about what my grandmother would say to me. I am sure it would be something along the lines of "Oh brother, just go buy a new vacuum already!" So I did, and it's all shiny and doing a great job, and I'm sure we'll be very happy together.

RIP Hoover Windtunnel 1500. You were a great vacuum and served long and well.

Florida

2010-04-15T08:48:00.000-07:00

We did actually do other things while we were there. The shuttle launch was on Monday, and we stayed until Saturday. (I had figured we were going to the launch during Spring Break, so might as well really live it up!)

We stayed in Daytona Beach Shores. (Mainly because that was the closest place to the launch that still had availability, and was on the beach.) Looking out our hotel window, I could see why Florida is popular:

Tuesday we visited the historic Ponce Inlet Lighthouse, which is the second tallest in the U.S. Then we tried our hand at fishing, although that didn't go too well.

Link to album of Lighthouse and fishing pictures

We spent Wednesday of that week in the pool all day, because that is what the kids had voted for. They froze their butts off, but they had a good time:

Thursday we took a boat tour of the Intercoastal Waterway, and then drove north looking for a beach with good shells. (and less people) We found it in the form of Varn Park. A beach just north of Flagler Beach, where the shells were so plentiful, in most places there were more shells than sand. We found some pretty good stuff, and enjoyed some privacy. For a couple of hours, we were literally the only people on that beach. It was great for us to relax, as I was able to just let the kids run and not worry.

Album of boat ride and Varn Park

Friday was our last full day. We hit the marine science center, and then visited Lighthouse Point Park, a state park at the southern end of the island Daytona Beach is on. We saw four Gopher Tortoises, walked on the jetties, and then the kids had one last fling on the beach. It was a great ending to our week.

Album of last day

It was definitely a full week, and one we'll all remember for a long time. We were all sad to leave, and I think we'll have to be sure to visit Florida again!

Awesome

2010-04-13T07:44:00.000-07:00

I can now say that I have seen the literal definition of that word. I'm sitting here, over a week later, and I'm *still* struggling to put this experience into words. I guess we'll go "Stream of Consciousness" typing and see what happens.

While I was standing there, I wished everyone I knew could be standing there with me. Feeling the absolute rush. Seeing the whole night light up from millions of pounds of fuel igniting. Hearing a sound so loud that I felt it in my chest. And experiencing the sense of awe that we puny humans could accomplish something like this.

I had been nervous to go. Challenger exploded when I was a kid, and it's stuck with me ever since. Every time I watched a launch on tv after that, I'd hold my breath. Waiting for something to go wrong. That same fear was present as we prepared for the trip. All I could think was "What if something goes wrong while we're there in person? How is that going to affect the kids? Me?"

The launch went beautifully though, and I have to say, being there in person was so amazing that I forgot to be scared. I wish it was something that everyone could experience. I think these days, with our country getting so cynical, we *need* more stuff like this. Not less. We need something to be excited about. Something that we can all stand together and gaze at with a childlike wonder. To inspire us.

I could ramble on forever about it, but I'll cut myself off here. I'll switch gears and kind of recap our experience a little bit.

We arrived at the Kennedy Space Center (from here on out abbreviated to KSC) the day before, to check in and attend a briefing. A nice surprise I got was that our VIP passes gave us all tickets to visit KSC itself. After we checked in, we killed some time by looking at some exhibits before the briefing.

The briefing was interesting, but the auditorium was hot, and it was a bit too long for the kids. They hung in there though, and finally it was done. We spent the rest of the afternoon touring the KSC.

We then headed back to the hotel to kill some time in the pool. When it got late, I took the kids out for a late dinner, and then drove back to KSC. The plan had been to get there early and then sleep in the car until it was time to get on the bus. Looking back, that may have been somewhat better to stick with, but we survived and got to experience things most don't.

After I had parked, it was about midnight, and I noticed people were already streaming in the entrance, children included. I figured we'd go ahead and check in early, and see what the deal is. Coming back to the car to sleep after that.

(we didn't get back to our van until 9 a.m.)

After we checked in, the lady told us to "have fun at the party!" We walked into KSC, and there were people everywhere! The exhibits were all open and everyone was milling around and having a good time. The kids really perked up and begged to play on the playground with all the other kids. So, against all rationality, I let them. I had the weird experience of sitting at NASA at 1 a.m. while my kids played on a playground with a million other kids from all over the world.

Eventually my logical side won out over my fun side and I gathered the kids up. I then tried to figure out what on earth to do. I knew the kids needed to sleep some or they'd totally sleep through the launch. I didn't want to go back to the van though, as then we'd have to go through security all over again. So I figured we'd find a bench or something and figure things out. All the benches were taken, and I noticed that the lines for the bus were already forming. We got in line, even though the buses weren't coming for two hours. Using a creative assortments of jackets, the kids were actually able to pass out on the concrete. I desperately wanted to doze but couldn't.

The buses showing up caught me off guard, and complete strangers were helping me get the kids up because the line was moving fast. Logan totally slept while he walked to the bus, which got a lot of giggles from everyone who saw him. We boarded the bus and got to the viewing site and found some seats. Everyone but Logan was awake for a while as we listened to the commentary and took turns looking through the binoculars at the launch pad.

We were all pretty much zombies by this point. It was about 3:45/4:00 a.m. (Launch was scheduled for 6:21 a.m.)

The kids all eventually fell asleep on the pavement again, I may or may not have seen Neil Armstrong, and I spent some time trying to snap pictures. Which didn't go too well considering I had kids sleeping on me and didn't have a tripod. Here's a few of my valiant efforts though. (first one is clearer, but doesn't show how the lighting really looked. Second one is super blurry, but more accurately shows what the lighting looked like.)

About 17 minutes before the launch, the space station passed overhead pretty visibly. It was a fun warmup for the big event. When the countdown clock passed all the holds, and started counting down the final 9 minutes, we got the kids woken up.

And then, it happened. I'm embedding a video I made at the end of this post. It will do the best job of talking about the launch than anything I can type here.

After the launch, we toured the Saturn V building waiting for our buses to pick us up. Then we headed back to KSC, got some souvenirs, and ate some breakfast. Then we headed to the van. The kids swore they weren't tired, but this was the sight before I even started the van to drive off:

I only got about 30 minutes down the road before I pulled over into a rest area and crashed asleep. I think we all slept in the car for about two hours before I was up to driving the rest of the way back to our hotel. After we got back to the hotel, the kids were rested, and we spent the rest of the day doing. . . something. I was so tired at that point I honestly can't remember.

Totally worth it though.

(make sure your sound is on!)

Leaving, on a jet plane. ..

2010-03-30T13:34:00.000-07:00

. . .well, not really. We're driving. I've told some people what we're doing, but not all. So let's have some fun with that, shall we?

We are going out of state. To see this.

Any idea what that is? Let's zoom out a little and see if that helps.

Let's zoom out some more

And more

For those that still don't know, let's zoom WAY out.

Final hints. We will be here, at the yellow X.

And what we'll be watching will be at the red X.

Figured it out?

I will say we're leaving Saturday, we'll spend a day resting, and then the big event is Monday!

:-P

Tis Only a Flesh Wound!

2010-03-27T19:52:00.000-07:00

Yeah, this is my eldest when he is sick. He has a history of answering "I'm ok" when he's running a fever of close to 105. He earned a trip to the ER with that one, where his heart rate was so high he got priority status. It's always tough to know just how sick he is. I think he could have Ebola, and he'd still answer "Yeah, I'm ok."

So, on days like today, where he is coughing, glassy eyed, feverish, and flushed, I can't help but hover. Even as he insists he's "ok."

It's the spring, and that means. . .

2010-03-26T11:49:00.000-07:00

it's time for me to beg for money again!!!

Those that know me know that I do this every year. Our family walks for the March of Dimes. In just our little family alone we've dealt with a lot. Three of our four children started off in the NICU, and the other one spent time in the PICU. We've been through prematurity, birth defects, and unknowns. Advances made in research by organizations like the March of Dimes is in part why some of my kids are alive today.

We are very grateful. I know times are still tight for everyone, but every little bit you can give helps. We will be walking May 8th in honor of our 4 kids, who have all been proven to be fighters.

Go here to read blurbs about each of their stories, and to give if you feel led: http://marchforbabies.org/mcleroy

Spring is a time when baby birds learn to fly. . .

2010-03-20T19:11:00.000-07:00

. . .in more ways than one.

Bored? Help me shop!

2010-03-19T18:16:00.000-07:00

Here's your chance to weigh in on one of our house repairs.

In our kitchen, we have what I refer to as "UFO lights". I'm pretty sure they are original to the 1978 house we live in. They also only have one light each, and it's just not enough. We need more. I've been slowly but surely improving the kitchen, and the lighting's time is coming soon.

So, go to lowes.com or homedepot.com and shop! It has to be something that hangs, as we have vaulted ceilings that are slanted. It also needs to be something that has more than one light.

This was our kitchen when we first moved in:

Since then, painting has happened, the cabinet knobs were replaced, and so were the outlet covers. Here's a picture which gives you an idea of the color scheme and "look" we're going with, the only thing you can't see are the outlet covers, which are rubbed bronze. Oh, and this picture kind of washes out the wall color, which is a definite yellow. Banana Cream by Behr if you're uber curious.

So, go forth, and give me your opinion! My only stipulation is nothing too fru-fru, and the less expensive the better, definitely in the under $100 range, since I'll have to buy two.

Value

2010-03-15T11:26:00.000-07:00

What are you good at? I used to know the answer to that question. I was a percussionist, and a decent one. It was who I was, and I thought it was who I would be, forever. It's funny how life tends to spit on your plans though.

Instead, I got married and popped out some kids, and that kind of put a damper on the whole musician thing for me.

I've always been a creative type, so I looked elsewhere for that outlet. I dabbled in jewelry making for a while. However, always in the background, had been photography. I got my first camera when I was a kid, and it seems I've always had one. I remember being at the zoo when I was about 10, and trying to get that perfect shot of the sea lions.

Since the musician thing has fallen by the wayside, I've gotten a lot more serious with the photography thing. Maybe even too much so. I stuck my toe in the water of selling prints, but didn't sell very many, and my ego got stung a bit. So the past few years, I've mainly just been taking pictures to take pictures. I've found any time I try to make money off of anything, it takes the fun away, so now I'm back to "amateur" status.

I can see my skills evolving over time. I look back at pictures I took 5 years ago, that at the time, I thought were the shiznit. Now looking at those same shots, I cringe.

The problem is, as I've been sucked further and further into sites like Flickr and deviantArt, my ego is once again getting the better of me. Not my ego being too big, but of it being too small. Ever the plight of the first born, I am a carrot seeker. I upload a shot I've worked hard on, dump it into some groups on Flickr, and wait. And I am hurt when no one comments on my work.

Why is that? Photography is supposed to be my hobby. It's supposed to be *fun*. I really need to get my head out of my butt and start realizing that the value in my photos isn't if so-and-so pats me on the head and says "Good job!" The value is in me capturing my creativity and life, and archiving it for the future. Some of my photos just make me happy when I look at them. I feel a sense of pride and accomplishment when I look at them. There is value in that. So why do I let the un-acknowledgement of the world damper it?

It's something I'm working on, and I still have a long ways to go. Hopefully someday I'll be able to just take photos, upload them, and not care at all who sees it or likes it. That is the goal. I'm just not quite there yet.

New Obsession

2010-03-13T18:54:00.000-08:00

Somehow, I was introduced to this webcam. I can't stop watching. It's the webcam for the Viva Las Vegas Wedding Chapel in Las Vegas. A lot of nights when I'm cooking dinner, I'll have the laptop on in the kitchen. From the time they rehearse, to the time they are walking away husband and wife is usually 15 minutes, tops. While I'm waiting for water to boil, I watch two people who may or may not be sober get hitched. It's a sick fascination.

A couple of shots from this past week:

First up, Alena (sp?) and James. This one was definitely not a sober affair, considering the best man, maid of honor, AND groom all giggled at some point through the vows.

Now this wedding was actually fun to watch. This is Felipe and Juliana (once again guessing on the spellings) from Brazil! The bride came down the aisle with Elvis to the song "Teddy Bear" and they just kind of partied through the whole wedding. At the end of the ceremony they waved to the webcam where apparently family back home were watching.

This is Jan and Rick. It was just the two of them, but they seemed nice!

Here was a vowel renewal, after being married for five years. I think it would be a fun way to do it. This is Stacy and Daniel (I think, the Elvis was kind of mumbling), and I want to say they are from Australia based on the accents I was hearing. Stacy was walked down the aisle by Elvis.

And while I was typing this, yet another couple entered into holy matrimony. Congrats to Andy and Autumn Robinson from my hometown of Houston! I am digging that they actually dressed up. It gives me hope for them.

Keeping busy

2010-03-10T10:01:00.000-08:00

What have we been up to?

A bit of this

And this

A little of this

And a lot of this

Album of our trip to Phinizy Swamp

Album of our trip to Magnolia Springs State Park

Album of our trip to Hamilton Branch State Park

The Countdown Begins

2010-03-04T12:46:00.001-08:00

The hubby left this morning to go away for training. He'll be done in 50 days. I'm trying to stay calm. After all, we've survived two year long deployments, so a little less than two months should be a breeze right? That's the denial I am accepting and sticking with, anyways.

I'm trying to plan things to keep us busy, and out of the house. I know staying home will mean insanity. There are lots of state parks nearby to explore, so I'm planning on visiting a bunch of those on days we don't have anything else to do. There's also a big surprise for the kids in early April. A once in a lifetime kind of thing that I'm really excited for. Keeping what it is exactly under wraps though, to let the excitement build.

We may even sneak up to see the hubby at some point. It seems he might have weekends off, and it's a beautiful area.

I haven't been blogging mostly because I've been freaking out about this time and trying to mentally prepare myself. Will I come back to writing more now that it's actually happening? I don't know, I guess time will tell.

p.s.-out of boredom (and curiosity) I joined in the Formspring madness. You can ask me anything, anonymously. http://www.formspring.me/midgetinvasion

p.p.s.-I know the hubby is all about safety, and may worry that I've told the internets that me, the wilting southern flower, and his innocent angelic children are all alone out here on the big bad frontier. So to that, I say this: anyone who comes to rob or take advantage of us during this time will be forced to babysit. You have been warned.

Hannah the fashion diva

2010-02-26T10:22:00.000-08:00

As it turns out, Hannah is becoming one of *those* little girls. I had heard about them, but had never experienced one first hand. One of those little girls that LOVE clothes, so much so, that they change fifty million times a day.

This is new territory for us, as her older sister, well, let's just say is a freer spirit. Lindsay would rather not wear anything. Whenever we get home from anywhere, within two minutes, she has her shoes, socks, and pants stripped. It's to the point where I've stopped begging her to please wear pants. I'm just glad she's wearing underwear, at least.

Hannah, however, is usually wearing clothes. She loves clothes, to the point where every hour, she's wearing something new. She's very creative with her ensembles as well, which makes for great Twitter fodder: http://twitter.com/midgetinvasion/status/9212824565 She shows no discrimination between hers and her sister's clothes. As long as it's girly, it'll do.

I told the hubby last night that it's very telling of things to come. I envision a future where the girls are teenagers and Lindsay is screaming at Hannah "You stole that out of my closet, didn't you?!?"

I may move to Fiji by then. I hear it's beautiful.

You know, life would be much easier

2010-02-21T10:01:00.000-08:00

. . if the hubby would just realize I'm right all the time.

It's time to tell the story of our dryer.

When we lived in Texas, our dryer was fine. FINE. It dried clothes in one cycle, and everything was great. Then we moved here. And the dryer? Not so fine any more. From the first time we used it, it sucked. It took two or three cycles to get a load dry. We tried to figure out why. The dryer was heating and everything, it was just acting like the wimpiest dryer there ever was. The hubby swore he had checked the vent that goes outside, so it had to be a problem with the dryer itself. It got bad enough that laundry really piled up, and usually only the clothes that were most important would get washed. We couldn't line dry all the time, and taking three cycles to dry meant not fun things for our electricity bill. So some clothes had just been hidden away, waiting for the day for us to get our act together.

Every month or so, me and the hubby would have the same conversation, where I would say it can't be the dryer, because the dryer had been working FINE, and the hubby swearing that it had to be the dryer, because there couldn't be any other explanation. A few months ago, we opened up the dryer, and the bottom was completely full of lint. Well hello fire hazard! It was hypothesized that maybe the lint had been building up for a long time, and that's what was causing the problem. We completely vacuumed it out, put the dryer door back on, and crossed our fingers. Put a load in, let it go through a cycle, opened the door, and. . . .wet clothes.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago. (for those keeping track, we've been here for a year and a half. Yes, eighteen wonderful months of this.) Once again, we have the same conversation. "It can't be the dryer, the dryer was FINE!" "It has to be the dryer, there isn't any other explanation."

We opened up the bottom of the dryer again, and once again, lint city. The hubby went about cleaning it up and finally started talking about getting a new dryer. While the completely Stepford wife in me was like "YUSS!!!" (and even looked at some fancy HE dryers that were on clearance) the practical side of me went "Let's see if we can fix it."

We decided that maybe the seals were bad, which *could* cause the lint in the bottom, and the weak drying. I went to Lowe's, and found some new foam that would work as a replacement, and the hubby went about "fixing" the dryer. Yes, I put it in quotes for a reason. Some time after replacing the seals, the hubby decided to humor me one more time and check the vent leading outside.

Side story-when we moved in to the house, it had been vacant for a long time. The owners had shoved some blue shop towels in the vent opening in the house to keep animals from coming in, which the hubby removed. Raise your hand if you can see where this is going!

Anyways, I am sitting on the computer, waiting. The hubby comes in from outside with a cheesy grin on his face. "I fixed the dryer!"

And, he HAD. Turns out, there were *more* blue shop towels shoved in the vent from the outside. As the hubby gloated and even sang a song at one point about fixing the dryer, I sat relieved. Then the reality of the whole situation dawned on him.

I. WAS. RIGHT.

Our dryer is perfectly fine, like I have been saying for the past eighteen dang months. It dries like a breeze now, just like it did in Texas.

Hubby-since I know you're out there, reading this: I love you but, I told you so. Nanny-nanny-poo-poo.

(There, it's out of my system. Almost.)

It's time for another. . Unsolicited Movie Review!

2010-02-18T10:17:00.000-08:00

I've done these a few times before. It's fun for me, and it helps when I feel I don't have anything useful to say. (for past reviews see here and here)

(There's a ton in this post, I've done a lot of movie watching the past few months.)

1 star = hated it
2 stars = didn't like it
3 stars = liked it
4 stars = really liked it
5 stars = loved it

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The Road 3+ stars
I liked this. Now yes, it's DARK. There isn't a happy moment in the whole film. I thought the acting was good, and it was (to me) a realistic portrayal of what that world would be like. They did a good job capturing the mood of the book, although like with every other book/movie out there, the book was better. This movie will probably be too slow for people not used to movies like it.

Book of Eli 3 stars
Another one I liked, although a little less than The Road. It was a bit more cheerful though, as in the ending was sort of happy, or something. Or maybe hopeful is a better word. It was fun to see Mila Kunis in such a serious role.

Did You Hear About the Morgans 3 stars, barely
I was entertained a bit, and it was cute. But wow, can we say "predictable"? Not much else to say about this one.

Up in the Air 3+ stars
This was an interesting movie. I haven't read the book, but it's on my list. It was a bit predictable at times, but it did have its moments. I think it was a good look into the lives of people who travel every week for work.

Avatar 3 stars, by the skin of its teeth
Yes, the CGI was all "Ooh" and "Ahh", but other than that, this was Dances With Wolves done with giant Smurfs.

Everybody's Fine 3 stars
An interesting mix of actors, good story. Pretty much fits in with all the other movies like it. I wasn't bored though.

Sherlock Holmes 4 stars
Yes, I know serious Holmes fans out there are decrying this movie as a travesty to the real Holmes. What I have to say about that is: pfft. This was a FUN movie, and I had a blast watching it.

It's Complicated 3 stars
Once again a movie that I wasn't bored watching, but was kind of predictable. Has some funny moments though. The chemistry between Alec Baldwin and Meryl Streep was surprisingly good.

Youth in Revolt 3 stars
It's another Michael Cera movie. That's about all I have to say about it.

Wolverine 3+ stars
It's another X-Men movie. I had fun watching it, and of course it's never painful to sit and watch Hugh Jackman for a while.

The Kite Runner 5 stars
I loved this one. Another one that's not really happy at all, but so well done. It's a very powerful story of friendship. I also really appreciated getting to understand Afghanistan's history better. There are some scenes that are really hard to watch, but I think this is a real gem of a movie.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

That's all for this time. As always, feel free to leave your thoughts/flames/agreements/reviews below!

The Lightbulb

2010-02-16T18:18:00.000-08:00

I've talked on here about Logan before. We know he's on the autism spectrum somewhere, we just don't know where. The more we learned about that world, the more we came to realize that our oldest probably has mild Aspberger's as well. Not bad enough to really need to *do* anything about it. Just enough that it puts a reason behind some of his quirkiness. (Like the fact that he has no idea how to hold a proper conversation, and will talk at you about something for hours, until you force him to stop.)

In order to help understand my boys better, and also just out of curiosity, I read the book "Look Me in the Eye" by John Robison. (It's a great read, and I highly recommend it for everyone.) However reading it, and about some of his experiences, thoughts and feelings, I found myself going "huh."

I then watched a video of him speaking, because in the book he talks about people with Aspberger's tending to have a certain rhythm to their speech, and again I thought "huh."

THEN, I started doing a lot of reading about adults with Aspberger's. About how they prefer to interact with people online, they have trouble making friends, they prefer to work alone, and that they tend to miss social cues. Another "huh."

Eventually, after some more research, I found the test a lot of doctors use to diagnose Aspberger's and Autism in adults. For the test, anything above a score of 32 is generally considered Aspberger's. I scored a 38.

I know that I don't have it "bad". I'm able to mask things pretty well when I have to. Then again, I've had lots of practice. Knowing this about myself isn't about having an excuse, it's more about finally finding out that I'm not just defective. There is a reason behind the struggles I have socially.

I do prefer online to real life. I get very nervous before things where there will be lots of people, like a party. I have a hard time making friends. Amongst the friends I do have, it is well known that I am *not* a hugger. I really don't like to be touched. It was a game in my family growing up, my mom and sister would catch me and squish me on the couch to make me have physical contact with them. There is also a whole gamut of sensory issues I have, (like loud noises, food textures, etc.) which I won't get into here.

One thing I've known about myself for a long time, is that I don't like looking people in the eye. It feels very overwhelming to me. When I have a conversation with someone, I have to physically and consciously make myself look them in the eye periodically, because I know that's what is "normal". I also have to work really hard to have a normal conversation. If I don't watch it, I tend to talk and talk and not listen to what the other person is saying. Another thing I have to consciously *make* myself do during conversation. Stop my own thoughts and focus on what the other person is talking about. At the risk of looking like an @ss, I'll admit it's like my brain doesn't care what the other person has to say. I have to force myself to care. It's not that I don't care about that person though, it's not that at all. I just have to work harder at making my brain see the value of what the other person is saying.

I also remember growing up, and even in my adult life, I have been labeled as "rude" when I ignore people. It was something so prevalent in my life, that I started telling people I met that if they pass me on the street or whatever, and wave, and I don't respond, it's because I really don't see them. When I am busy doing something, or thinking about something, I really. Don't. See them. It's not that I don't value that person, or don't want to talk to them, it's just like that part of my brain that notices people is shut off. So I tell people, if it happens, to get in my face, or touch my arm or something, to snap me out of it. I can be scary focused when I want to. Example-I was taking bird photos earlier. I can sit there with a camera for hours to get a shot I want, and it doesn't bother me at all.

There's times when I say something, that to me seems logical or funny, it causes silence in the room. There is that dreaded awkward pause, and I *never* know why. I can tell I've said something weird or not right, but I never can figure out what it is.

None of this really changes anything. I'm still me. It just is a comfort to me to find out after all these years, that things I have had trouble with my whole life aren't my fault. It's validation that I wasn't being this way on purpose. It's not that I am defective. It's just Aspberger's. And that makes my life make a heck of a lot more sense.

Snowpaloosa 2010

2010-02-15T12:21:00.001-08:00

For those not following me on Twitter, here are some pictures and video of the snow! To northerners, this is no big deal, I know. However, keep in mind, we live in the deep south, and it hasn't snowed like this in twenty years.

Photo album on Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/10455228@N00/sets/72157623317019963/

Videos:

The kids rolling snowballs

The hubby and Hannah clearing the crepe myrtles

Turns out, our dog *LOVES* snow

Another check in

2010-02-14T09:44:00.000-08:00

As those who follow me on Twitter know, my diet and exercise still has not made it back to the top of the priority list. After we all recovered from the stomach flu, some of the kids came down with a new bug. It involved more sleepless nights, and ended up with a trip to the doctor for Hannah. She won for being our first child to ever have an ear infection, and she went for the gold by having a double one to boot. She left the doctor with some lovely door prizes: antibiotics and steroids! The kids are all mending, although some are still not 100% yet.

And then....it snowed! Here in Augusta, Georgia. It snowed last year, but none of it stuck. The ground is usually too warm here, and it never snows enough for that. This time was different though. It snowed more than it has in twenty years, or something like that. It actually stuck, and we got an accumulation of 4-6 inches. While the Northeast was recovering from the Snowpocalypse, we were having Snowpaloosa 2010. Our family got to enjoy its first ever snowball fight, and snowmen were made. There is still a bit of snow on the ground, even. (It snowed Friday night, and it's now Sunday afternoon!) It's been a total blast for this town, and a much needed distraction for our family.

I haven't totally forgotten my goals though. I did do one day of trampolining this past week. I've also made more of an effort to actually take our dog for walks. With as sore as I am, I'm also wondering how many calories a good snowball fight burns.

I've also changed tactics on my diet. I wanted to do the Atkins for the big initial weight loss, to keep me motivated. Well, the stomach flu took care of that for me, and knocked a third of my goal down. My latest thinking is to eat as little sugar as possible, sticking to complex carbohydrates. I'm also staying away from refined flour, and have made the lovely discovery that whole wheat pastas and tortillas are actually *better* than the regular. The other big thing is I am actually paying attention to what a serving is. There is a lot of talk about our society eating portions that are too big. I am making more of an effort to keep that from happening to me. I actually read the package, see what a serving is, and just have that. It's been eye opening for sure. Some things, the portions are bigger than what I was expecting. Others, well, let's just say: OUCH.

One final ramble, I joined a site called Spark People. It's free, and you can use it to keep track of your calories consumed, your exercise, and your weight loss goals. It's free, and there are message boards if you're into that. I really like it, and it's definitely helping me on the calorie watching end.

So, weight is still the same, at 155, so I haven't rebounded, thankfully. Hopefully, as I add more exercise back in, that number will start dropping. We shall see!

Trying to give Hannah medicine

2010-02-10T18:56:00.000-08:00

As told in comics

The Facebook Insanity

2010-02-10T10:45:00.000-08:00

Everybody has heard by now, but Facebook has changed things. Again. So I once again found myself logging into my account and going W-T-F. Again. That's when a little voice reminded me of something my dad had told me about long ago. It's a magical land called "Facebook Lite".

Facebook Lite shows just the things I want to see. I really do not care who farmed a magical bean crop, or that someone threw a goat at me. On Facebook Lite, the only things in my stream are my friends' status updates, pictures, and notes, which makes me happy. The page is very simple and easy on the eyes as well. Let's take a quick look, shall we? (names blurred to protect the innocent, and click to see each one bigger)

Here is a quick screenshot of the overall look.

One thing I want to point out is that instead of getting "Notifications", where you have to click to see what each person said on each picture or whatever, it just bumps it to the top of your stream. You still get an email telling you that someone posted as well. Here's a quick peek of a status update of mine that was bumped up a while ago by some comments:

It had been at the top, but some other people posted status updates before I got a screenshot.

"But Meghann", I hear you saying, "I *want* to throw a goat at someone!"

Well, you still can, quite easily in fact. Once you start using Facebook Lite, there will be a link in the Settings where you can connect the two accounts. What that does, is adds a link to to the top of your page that allows you to toggle between the two. Like so:

*On Facebook Lite, but wanting to throw a goat*

*After having thrown the goat, wanting to go back to Facebook Lite*

That's all there is to it! I know this version isn't for everyone, but to those tired of the insanity, I wanted to show that there *is* another way. And hopefully seeing some screen shots will help answer any questions. Any other questions? Just ask!

One week down the hatch

2010-02-05T12:01:00.000-08:00

Well, it's been a little over a week since I posted about my weight loss plan and goals. The first week has been interesting. Atkins is hard, yo. Every day there was a different craving of what I couldn't have. One day it was pizza, another, mac and cheese.

The trampolining has been good though. I wear headphones to keep from getting bored, and each day I jump a little differently. One day I did a jogging motion, another, I kept my toes down and just used my heels to bounce. (which was really good for the butt area by the way)

I was chugging along ok, although I was kind of frustrated. Everywhere you read says Atkins sees big weight loss in the first week or two, and my scale wasn't budging.

Something happened though, that made me fall off the wagon, AND lose weight at the same time. I got the stomach flu! It was a killer too, with me even sleeping on the bathroom floor at one point, on the brink of being delusional. As I'm sure all of you know, recovering from something like that involves a certain diet. A.k.a. CARBS. I've been living off of crackers, applesauce, ginger ale, and chicken noodle soup for two days now.

The one perk though? I'm down 10 lbs. I kid you not. I weighed myself Monday and I hadn't lost anything. Today? 10 lbs. lighter.

I know there is a high rebound chance here, since I'm having to be pretty sedentary, and consuming the all evil carbs. It will be tricky to find the right time to transition back to the exercise and diet. Wait too long, and the pounds will pack on. Go too soon, and I could make myself sick again.

So, that's where we're at. Wish me luck as I figure out how to transition back into the routine.

Starting weight:165
Today: 155

Five years (and change)

2010-02-03T14:44:00.000-08:00

I hadn't really thought about it until today, but it's now been five years since my mother passed away. It was bittersweet at the time. I had watched her fight and suffer for so long, I was relieved for her to be done with the battle at last. However, she was only 44, and I was only 24.

I am learning that even though you depend on your parents the most when you are a child, you still very much need them when you are an adult. The rest of my family has tried to fill the gap the best they can. My dad is still around, and I have a step-mother who is readily there for me when I need. There isn't any replacement for your own mother though. Especially when you are a mother yourself.

I've had friends lose a parent in the past few years, and they turn to me for wisdom. I do what I can for them, but really, there is no wisdom here. I will say this. It *does* get better. Eventually. The pain isn't so constant, and you learn to not think about them every waking hour any more. You move on. Not completely though. It's funny now, how five years later, something can happen, and the pain comes rushing back in so fast it takes my breath away. Times when the kids do something funny, or have a doctor's appointment. My mom always wanted to hear about that. I called her every day, and if I didn't, she would call me. She loved her grandkids, and wanted to hear everything. So, at times like when Hannah cut her bangs off, just like my sister did when she was little, it hurts to know that I can't pick up the phone to tell my mom about it.

There is also a noticeable absence when I think about the kids. I get sad for them, that their grandmother isn't here to watch them grow up. When she died, Logan was only six months old. Hannah wasn't even a blip on the radar yet. Lindsay was pretty small, so she doesn't remember her, but Ryan was old enough, he does have a few memories. Some days I get to thinking about the what-could-have-beens. Wondering if she would think Hannah looks as much like me as I think she does. Wondering what it would be like to have her as yet another cheerleader for Logan as he attends all his therapies. What she would have thought of the bossy, yet sweet, piano playing princess Lindsay is turning out to be. How she would be so proud of Ryan, who started off in the NICU with a very uncertain future. She was there every step of the way with us, and I think about how happy she would be about the young man he is turning into.

I am a person of faith. My mother was as well. I believe I will see her again, and that my children will too. That some day is floating out there on the horizon, and I do take comfort in it.

I still wish she was here now though.

Two movies to not watch back to back before falling asleep

2010-01-31T18:56:00.000-08:00

Hidalgo and Day After Tomorrow.

Because then you end up dreaming that you are in a horse race through a ship, to win supplies before the cold hits.

Just FYI.

Trying. . .AGAIN

2010-01-29T10:35:00.000-08:00

This week there was a milestone of sorts. Wednesday marked exactly six months until my 30th birthday. I know, I know, I have enough friends older than me to know not to be upset about that or anything. It did give me pause though. I've chronicled my fitness attempts on here before, and failed. I tried valiantly for two months early last year, but after two months of no results, I quit. There, I owned up to it. I am a quitter.

It was easy to get frustrated though. Two months of hard work, and the scale didn't budge an inch. So I said "screw it" and threw in the towel.

It's time to try again though. I'm trying a different approach this time. I know I need to see some upfront results fast in order to stick with something. I also don't want to do something drastically unhealthy. After a lot of thinking, and reading online, here is my game plan: Atkins and a trampoline. Yes, a trampoline. I'll get to that in a minute.

I'm only on day 2 of the Atkin's and I am hurting. I am a carb fiend. Mexican food containing many tortillas and Italian food with all of its pastas are my favorite foods. Turning away from it (at least for the time being) is a real challenge. Upping the ante is the fact that I made a chicken spaghetti casserole the other night, and it's been in the fridge, taunting me. I literally thought about it ALL day yesterday. So, while this is starting off hard, I have read that it *does* get results quickly, especially the first few weeks. Which is what I need.

I did pretty well at lunch today. I'm sitting here satisfied. It was a big lunch, but I guess that is what it's going to take, to keep me from sitting here daydreaming about chicken spaghetti. I took two big leaves of green lettuce, and laid a red cabbage leaf in each one. Then I whipped up some chicken salad. (canned chicken breast, just enough mayo to hold it together, and then pepper, garlic, and my secret ingredient: celery salt) I split the chicken between the two sets of lettuce/cabbage leaves and then rolled each up, burrito style. I had a piece of cheese and a stalk of celery on the side. I used the whole can of chicken, which is technically two servings, but this is Atkins, where that kind of thing is allll good, holmes.

Ok, enough rambling about that, on to the trampoline thing. I needed an exercise that I could do at home, wouldn't kill my fragile knees, and would be, well, not boring. I don't know how I stumbled on the trampoline thing, but I did. Turns out, it's a real form of exercise, and I can easily do it while the kids run around the backyard. You don't even need to actually jump when you are first starting out. Just standing on it and bouncing gently gets stuff done. I did 30 minutes of it yesterday, and my legs were jello afterward.

So, that's the game plan. I'll try to keep public about how I'm doing, so I'll either spectacularly fail (again) in front of everyone (again), or I'll start a new trampoline craze amongst my friends with my awesome results.

Starting weight: 165
Goal weight: 135 would be amazing, but I'll be ecstatic with 140

I'll either be starting my 30's with a body I'm happy with, or I'll be starting my 30's with the body I have right now. Either way, the clock has started. Six months and counting. . .

A homeschooling blip

2010-01-23T12:00:00.001-08:00

Since we have a pretty free-styling method of homeschooling, it allows me to explore different methods. (like the new way I came up with to do long division that is actually easier than what we were taught in school.) It also allows me to let the kids take the lead a lot, and sometimes, that turns out to be awesome.

My kids don't like math worksheets. Well, who does, really? Lindsay is always the most reluctant to complete them for me. We actually don't do them very often, because I don't believe that's the best way to learn math. I think actually understanding the how's and why's are more important. Every once in a while though, I like to do one with a bunch of different concepts on it to see what the kids can do. On those days, Lindsay's eye rolling capacity is set from stun to kill, and much audible sighing happens.

But then, then the day after happened. The day where Lindsay decided to make a worksheet for her dad to fill out. The brilliance of it? He gave it back to her to check it. It was totally her idea, and she saw it as a way of playing, but in reality, she was doing the problems too, since she had to check them.

I'm filing this one away for future use.

Harassing the dog

2010-01-21T20:19:00.000-08:00

Because I have other posts brewing in my head, but they are not ready to surface yet.

I've blogged a bit here and there about the dog before. I never really was a dog person until we got one. I really got her for the kids, but it turns out she's one of those dogs that picks one person to bond the most with. For some reason, she chose me. I could wax poetic that it's because she knows I need her the most, but it could also just be because I am the quietest person living in this house.

She loves the hubby too, and the kids to some extent, don't get me wrong. However, I am the only person privileged enough that she literally accompanies me everywhere I go in the house. She even stands sentry outside the bathroom when nature calls for me. You know, in case I fall in or something.

It's been a new experience for me, that's for sure. My entire life, I've been a cat person. We have two cats now, and I love them both dearly. Cats are what I know. Having a dog though, well, having a dog is a whole new ballpark. I never knew you could have a pet that could seem so human. There are times when I look in her eyes, and I can tell what she is thinking, and it seems like she can tell the same about me.

I may be biased, but I also think that we have a slightly more-than-average expressive dog.

Here I think she was pretending to sleep so I would leave her alone. She still has a lot to learn.

Look at these paws, aren't they great?

They remind me of a teddy bear.

This nose kills me too.

Yes Chip, I'm still here. With the camera.

After this I actually did leave her alone though. Don't want to abuse her too much in one day you know.

{W}rite of Passage: The Job

2010-01-11T18:01:00.000-08:00

My first official job was when I was 18. For years before that, I had been babysitting off and on, and working at our church occasionally. I got paid sometimes, but it wasn't really a job for me. I liked kids, and they liked me. I was one of those responsible kids that adults felt comfortable leaving their children with. I was always "working" for people who were either family or good friends of the family though, so it never really was like a real job.

The summer before I started college, my mother told me that if I got a job, she would get me a car. (She never did, but that's a whole other story.) I landed a job at a nearby grocery store as a checker. I should have known things weren't going to go well when a friend who was a manager told me, "You don't want to work here." I applied, was hastily accepted, and thus began my training.

My "training" didn't quite go as planned. I showed up when I was supposed to, in one of the awful teal shirts that were the uniform, and found the manager who was supposed to train me. Apparently she was pretty disenchanted with the whole idea. She looked me over, sizing me up, and then told me to go an open register she pointed at. To do what, you might ask? Well, to check people out of course! The "lovely" manager thought I didn't need training. Never mind that I had never checked anyone out or used a cash register before!

I had to learn on the fly how to ring up produce, what to do when someone paid by check, and how to handle food stamps and WIC checks. It was one of those things where I had seen it done for years, but had never really thought about it and all it entailed. I had some very visibly annoyed customers that night. Thankfully, none of them took it out on me. I was also extremely grateful for an older checker working next to me, who took pity on me and would coach me through transactions when I needed help. Unlike the "manager". (Who was a different person from the one I knew, by the way.)

I want to say that I found my rhythm, and after some time things went smoothly, and we all lived happily ever after. Yeah, right. What I hadn't known at the time, was the the whole chain of stores was a sinking ship. We cycled through managers on a monthly basis, each one more apathetic than the last. Eventually, with everything I had going on with school, I was only working one night a week, and after a grand total of six months as an employee, I quit all together.

There was no love lost, and less than a year after I quit, the entire chain of stores closed. I did learn some valuable things in those six months. Things like, I am always nice and patient with the person ringing me up at the grocery store. I've been on the other side of the fence, and I know the crap that they have to put up with from customers on a daily basis. (When I was a checker I lost count the number of times *I* got reamed for the price of something by a customer. You know, because I had control over that, right?)

I also help bag up my things if there isn't a bagger there, because I know the stress and fear that comes when you don't have one. The groceries are piling up, the people in line are impatient, and you have a million things to do at once. So, I help.

I also am very careful to not pick up things without a UPC code on them. Having to get something price checked is an inconvenience to everyone involved. I am sure to mark the PLU number of any produce I get that is out of the ordinary, like the time we bought star fruit. Any good checker will have a lot of the produce codes memorized, (bananas-4011, green grapes-4033, red grapes 4032, etc.) but there are things that I don't expect them to know offhand. I don't want to have to wait while they flip through that little book looking for it either. So, I write it down, or I make sure to get one with a sticker on it.

The six months on that job taught me a lot. It taught me to be nice to those people at the register. It taught me what it felt like to get a real paycheck. It also taught me that some people out there really don't care about others. I think everyone should work at least once in their lives at a job where they have to deal with the general public. If anything, to learn that the general public can really suck. Maybe by learning that, more people wouldn't treat others as crappy, and the overall suckitude of the general public would decrease. It's a nice thought anyways.

Cooking with Meghann 101: Chalupas

2010-01-04T18:27:00.000-08:00

I grew up eating these, they were a staple in my mother's family, who were from the Rio Grande Valley in Texas. These are easy, fairly cheap, and kind of addictive.

I totally didn't take a picture of the needed ingredients, but what you'll need is:

-white corn tortillas (thicker is better than thinner, I like Mission brand. I'll show you why later.)

-refried beans (any kind you love)

-grated cheese (again, almost anything you like with mexican food will work. Cheddar, colby jack, "mexican blend", etc. All work.)

-oil (you don't want something too flavorful like olive or peanut. Good old vegetable is fine.)

Ok, let's get cracking! Heat a couple of inches of oil in a skillet on about medium heat. When it's hot, drop in a tortilla.

Let it float, and flip it from time to time.

Sometimes when I am feeling impatient, I'll hold it under the oil with tongs. I get hungry, yo.

What you want to do, is cook it until it's crispy, but not really brown. Adjust the oil temperature if they are cooking too fast. You want them to look like this.

You drain them, and lay them on a cookie sheet like in the above picture.

As promised, here is where I will talk about tortilla thickness. I like Mission brand tortillas, they are thicker than some others. I only had enough to do half of mine with Mission, and then used a different brand for the rest. The other brand was thin, and that creates a problem. They tend to bubble, and be downright onery. It is hard to find the right oil temperature where they will get all the way crisp without browning. You can see here how the new brand (on the right) does not look as pretty as the other brand (on the left).

When you have a panful, it's time for the beans. Spread beans on each tortilla. On average, I can cover about 6 tortillas with one can of beans. In this instance, I was using refried black beans. Mmm mmm.

Then add a handful of cheese to each one. Don't skimp!

Now it's time to cook these babies. Throw them in the oven, on the middle rack, and set your oven to broil. Broil them until the cheese is nice and gooey, and even a little brown. Watch them like a hawk though, they only take a few minutes, and are notorious for going from "not melted" to "charcoal" very quickly.

Oh baby.

Serve them hot, with whatever toppings that you can come up with. I'm quite fond of black olives, lettuce, and taco sauce. They are phenomenal "as is" though, if you're not feeling fancy.

(Even though I said "Serve hot", they are still good a while later, after dinner is over and you notice a cold one sitting in the kitchen no one claimed. Not that I would know from experience or anything. Ahem.)

2009 Year in Review

2009-12-30T21:05:00.000-08:00

Well my friends, another year is over. Not only that, but another decade will be starting. This past decade has been quite a wild ride for all of us I think. Crazy elections where we all learned what a "hanging chad" was, 9/11, war, the economy deciding it had been too long since it visited the toilet. . .

For me personally, life is a lot different than it was as the year 2000 dawned. I was still married to a civilian, and we only had one child. My mom and all my grandparents were still alive. (along with 3 great grandparents!) I was still living in Houston and did not foresee a time when we would ever move away, and back then, I didn't have any step siblings. Or nieces or nephews. There has been a lot of loss, but a lot gained as well. Life moves on, the circle of life, hakuna matata and all that.

So, because writer's block is still camping out in my head, let's take a look back at what has happened in my little corner of the internet this past year.

January- We spent New Year's visiting family, and then started slowly rennovating our house, which included vanquishing the scary wallpaper.

February- I introduced the hubby and our children to Cirque du Soleil.

March-Hannah and the spider incident.

http://3minionsintow.blogspot.com/2009/03/little-miss-muffet.html

April- An eventful month. We did more rennovations, and started our garden, Easter came and went. Logan learned to pedal a bike, and Ryan turned 9. Me and the hubby became poison ivy experts, and I won a parenting battle.

May- The hubby and I celebrated our 10 year anniversary, I got really sick and had "fun" navigating the military medicine system, and Hannah drew her first picture where you can kinda tell what it is.

June-Logan turned 5, Hannah cut her hair, we had a backyard visitor, and we went to NYC as a family.

July-Chip the dog came home to us, our garden continued to kind of grow, the new Harry Potter came out, and Hannah turned 3.

August-me and the kids visited Missouri, where Logan finally got over his aversion to swimming pools (mostly), and then we went on a family vacation to Tybee Island.

September-We started our second year of homeschooling, went on a field trip to a dairy farm, and had our garden grow a mutant cucumber.

October-the blahs and writer's block hit hard, and I chronicled the "joys" of navigating parenting a preteen. Halloween happened, but I didn't blog about it really.

http://3minionsintow.blogspot.com/2009/10/walking-line-between-love-and-hatred.html

November- homeschooling kept chugging along, I had a few emo posts, Lindsay turned 7, Thanksgiving happened, and then I started to try to get into the Christmas spirit.

December-Hannah cut her hair. (again.) Christmas came and went. (again.)

So that was the year! I hope everyone has a fun New Year's! We'll be at home, as usual, hanging out with snacks, some small fireworks, and the kids. I'm not going to a fancy party, but I'll have 5 people to kiss at midnight, so that's not too shabby.

Everyone be good, and safe, and I'll catch all you peeps on the flip side, in 2010!