Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Summer Vacation
One of the best things one can do with their family is to take a summer vacation. For us, this normally entails a trip to Las Vegas, Nevada. Steve's family lives there and a a visit always sees us playing in a swimming pool and enjoying fabulous food.
This year is no different. We have packed our bags, we have our swim suits gathered and are ready to go.
What they don't know is that we aren't headed to Vegas....we are going to....DISNEYLAND!
A long time planning and saving has gone into this and I will try to share this incredible event!
Including their reactions when we finally do tell them! Then, when we have spent time in the Happiest Place on Earth, we will go to grandma's house!
This year is no different. We have packed our bags, we have our swim suits gathered and are ready to go.
What they don't know is that we aren't headed to Vegas....we are going to....DISNEYLAND!
A long time planning and saving has gone into this and I will try to share this incredible event!
Including their reactions when we finally do tell them! Then, when we have spent time in the Happiest Place on Earth, we will go to grandma's house!
Friday, May 27, 2011
Conner Graduates Kindergarten
Conner had no nervousness or anxiety. He was bouncy and ready to go!
The children did wonderful with their songs and poems. Their gappy teeth and mortarboards provided a unique contrast. Conner was thrilled that his "girl friend", Amelia. could make it.
For me, it is bitter sweet. I am excited for my youngest. I am so proud of him. But he is my youngest. My last through kindergarten with it's sweet innocence, it's ingenuinity, it's stuttered words and lisps. I shall miss pages that are graded with smiles or frowns, where the biggest infractions are running in the halls.
But someday, this little one will be a man, and there is no way on earth I would hamper his journey.
Congratulations Conner Mac!
Friday, May 13, 2011
Finally Friday.....
Ah, Friday. The day of sleep in. The day the kids, in theory, should quietly sneak from their beds and go downstairs to quietly watch TV and quietly eat a nutritious breakfast of cereal and milk. Friday. The day the dogs are let out and fed without an adult reminding children of their duties. QUIETLY!
My Friday.
6:00 am. Kids rough housing in their rooms. Dogs barking to be let out. Dogs running into my room on their crazy eight path. Kids shrieking to get the dogs rebounding faster until they jump on my bed and mistake me for a pillow.
6:15 am. Kids have new mission to let dogs outside!!! and to feed them and leave mama alone.
6:17 am. Loud argument from children over Scooby vs Spongebob.
6:18am. Disturbing crash from kitchen
6:20am. Loud argument inter sped with, "NO WAY, YOU clean it up!"
6:28 am. Shrill screaming and the call, "COYOTE", "COYOTE IN THE YARD"
6:29 am. Me: where? Kids: (random screaming, dogs barking) Me:I can't shoot it if I can't find it!!
6:31 am. Coyote location identified. Go to window. Nice puppy, not a coyote.
6:32 am. Put rifle away and crawl back in bed.
6:35 am. Try to sleep. Boy child jumps on my bed and says that it was William who did all the screaming. Children given instructions to get dressed and do chores.
6:38 am. Children run upstairs and get dressed with the subtly of a herd of bison in a thunderstorm.
6:45 am. House is quiet.
6:46 am. WHACK, THUMP (metallic clump)
6:47 am. Repeat
6:48 am. Get up and go to garage. Disrupt baseball game being played in garage.
6:50 am. House quiet.
6:51 am. SQUEAL thump. Cheer. Squeal thump.
6:53 am. Go downstairs and disrupt soccer game in garage. Stomp feet, make inarticulate noises and point meaningfully at barn.
6:55. Kids do chores.
7:07. Mom. Hey Mom. Mom. Are you awake?
sigh.
And how was your day?
My Friday.
6:00 am. Kids rough housing in their rooms. Dogs barking to be let out. Dogs running into my room on their crazy eight path. Kids shrieking to get the dogs rebounding faster until they jump on my bed and mistake me for a pillow.
6:15 am. Kids have new mission to let dogs outside!!! and to feed them and leave mama alone.
6:17 am. Loud argument from children over Scooby vs Spongebob.
6:18am. Disturbing crash from kitchen
6:20am. Loud argument inter sped with, "NO WAY, YOU clean it up!"
6:28 am. Shrill screaming and the call, "COYOTE", "COYOTE IN THE YARD"
6:29 am. Me: where? Kids: (random screaming, dogs barking) Me:I can't shoot it if I can't find it!!
6:31 am. Coyote location identified. Go to window. Nice puppy, not a coyote.
6:32 am. Put rifle away and crawl back in bed.
6:35 am. Try to sleep. Boy child jumps on my bed and says that it was William who did all the screaming. Children given instructions to get dressed and do chores.
6:38 am. Children run upstairs and get dressed with the subtly of a herd of bison in a thunderstorm.
6:45 am. House is quiet.
6:46 am. WHACK, THUMP (metallic clump)
6:47 am. Repeat
6:48 am. Get up and go to garage. Disrupt baseball game being played in garage.
6:50 am. House quiet.
6:51 am. SQUEAL thump. Cheer. Squeal thump.
6:53 am. Go downstairs and disrupt soccer game in garage. Stomp feet, make inarticulate noises and point meaningfully at barn.
6:55. Kids do chores.
7:07. Mom. Hey Mom. Mom. Are you awake?
sigh.
And how was your day?
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
In a dither
So long between posts, I have no excuse. I have reasons, which really don't qualify, but are there, nonetheless!
I learned to knit, which when learning anything new, has become something of an obsession. New legwarmers have replaced soccer socks for Caitlyn. I am working on a new stitch on a scarf and, wait for it, I am rocking some circular needles in an attempt to make a Harry Potter hat. There is a great book, found here, that is all projects inspired by good old HP.
I have been totally amazed by the creativity and complexity. I have been scared, cowering away from them, but compelled to desire them all the same! As my lovely friend Annie has said, that's conquerable! Mostly because I think she figured out if she said, oh that's easy, I was going to take delight in putting one of my DPN through her eye.
I have also been up to my eyeballs in kids stuff. Yes, it is the glamorous (cough cough) stuff that fills my usual blogs, baseball, soccer, and animals. We had a wonderful soccer season and are in the middle of our baseball season. Animal season never ends!
So, my life in pictures:
And how was your day?
I learned to knit, which when learning anything new, has become something of an obsession. New legwarmers have replaced soccer socks for Caitlyn. I am working on a new stitch on a scarf and, wait for it, I am rocking some circular needles in an attempt to make a Harry Potter hat. There is a great book, found here, that is all projects inspired by good old HP.
I have been totally amazed by the creativity and complexity. I have been scared, cowering away from them, but compelled to desire them all the same! As my lovely friend Annie has said, that's conquerable! Mostly because I think she figured out if she said, oh that's easy, I was going to take delight in putting one of my DPN through her eye.
I have also been up to my eyeballs in kids stuff. Yes, it is the glamorous (cough cough) stuff that fills my usual blogs, baseball, soccer, and animals. We had a wonderful soccer season and are in the middle of our baseball season. Animal season never ends!
And how was your day?
Monday, April 18, 2011
Sublime to the Ridiculous
I had the honor of attending the meeting dinner for the Roosevelt County Electric Co-op. James won first place for second graders in the coloring contest and we were invited.
We started off by signing in and claiming our raffle ticket to the door prizes, something that, sadly, was of no further use to us.
A very traditional High Plains spread was laid out in a buffet and then we proceeded to find places in the main ballroom. Some of you may be wondering what exactly is a traditional High Plains meal. Sadly, light cuisine is not one of our qualities as a community. The fare was heavy on starch (which I am trying to be cautious of) with chicken fried steak and white gravy. It is the food of a working family, substance to stick to you during long hours of heavy work. Folks here still have living memories of the Dust Bowl and hardship, of homesteaders and boom towns. For the generations who settled here, a hearty appetite was a requirement.
The dining room was almost surreal. So many people that looked alike. Tall, weathered men with faint tan lines across their brows sat next to bright eyed women who were quick to speak and quicker to laugh. They are all working people with calouses on their hands, muscles worn from the hard work that still moves the community.
They all look alike. Why, why do they all look alike? Because in our community, they are our everything. Across was a "neighbor", meaning closer than five miles. Down the table was one of our teachers. Across the room was members of our church. Sunday school teachers and babysitters. Linemen and dairymen.
All of the people that make up our day to day lives. Sadly, I can't name you the Supreme Court, but I could name some of the Co-op board because they are part of my daily life.
We enjoyed the dinner, heavy fare in all. Looking down the table, the light struck the ever present tea glasses and they all glowed. It looked as if the tables were lit by hundreds of amber candles.
Then, as you will find only in the heart of America, we bowed our heads in public prayer. We asked the Lord to bless our food and send the rains. We asked God to bless our fire fighters that we were so grateful for, and to continue to steer us in our daily efforts. The flag was brought in and we, as a group, stood for the presenting of the colors and the Pledge of Allegiance. No one protested, and if none participated, they weren't chided.
My children were so well behaved, models of manners and patience. It was a long dinner, with many honorable mentions and speeches. The poster winners were called and James proudly stood, and then stood on his chair when he realized no one could see him. He was proud to claim his certificate and T-shirt. No other honor was needed.
I realized as we left, a flood of well fed citizens, I must look familiar, too.
The Ridiculous:
On Sunday, I had the honor of spending almost twenty dollars on Easter baskets being auctioned by our Missions Committee. It was a silent auction. I had bid on a gardening basket. I lost. Then why did I write out a check and walk to my car with seven baskets? Because my children all know how to write their names. Never, ever explain how a silent auction works to children.
And how was your day?
We started off by signing in and claiming our raffle ticket to the door prizes, something that, sadly, was of no further use to us.
A very traditional High Plains spread was laid out in a buffet and then we proceeded to find places in the main ballroom. Some of you may be wondering what exactly is a traditional High Plains meal. Sadly, light cuisine is not one of our qualities as a community. The fare was heavy on starch (which I am trying to be cautious of) with chicken fried steak and white gravy. It is the food of a working family, substance to stick to you during long hours of heavy work. Folks here still have living memories of the Dust Bowl and hardship, of homesteaders and boom towns. For the generations who settled here, a hearty appetite was a requirement.
The dining room was almost surreal. So many people that looked alike. Tall, weathered men with faint tan lines across their brows sat next to bright eyed women who were quick to speak and quicker to laugh. They are all working people with calouses on their hands, muscles worn from the hard work that still moves the community.
They all look alike. Why, why do they all look alike? Because in our community, they are our everything. Across was a "neighbor", meaning closer than five miles. Down the table was one of our teachers. Across the room was members of our church. Sunday school teachers and babysitters. Linemen and dairymen.
All of the people that make up our day to day lives. Sadly, I can't name you the Supreme Court, but I could name some of the Co-op board because they are part of my daily life.
We enjoyed the dinner, heavy fare in all. Looking down the table, the light struck the ever present tea glasses and they all glowed. It looked as if the tables were lit by hundreds of amber candles.
Then, as you will find only in the heart of America, we bowed our heads in public prayer. We asked the Lord to bless our food and send the rains. We asked God to bless our fire fighters that we were so grateful for, and to continue to steer us in our daily efforts. The flag was brought in and we, as a group, stood for the presenting of the colors and the Pledge of Allegiance. No one protested, and if none participated, they weren't chided.
My children were so well behaved, models of manners and patience. It was a long dinner, with many honorable mentions and speeches. The poster winners were called and James proudly stood, and then stood on his chair when he realized no one could see him. He was proud to claim his certificate and T-shirt. No other honor was needed.
I realized as we left, a flood of well fed citizens, I must look familiar, too.
The Ridiculous:
On Sunday, I had the honor of spending almost twenty dollars on Easter baskets being auctioned by our Missions Committee. It was a silent auction. I had bid on a gardening basket. I lost. Then why did I write out a check and walk to my car with seven baskets? Because my children all know how to write their names. Never, ever explain how a silent auction works to children.
And how was your day?
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
The Lament of the Cleaners
My kids are basically good kids. We have no major behavioral issues. We have no pathological lying, no stealing, no tantrums. We are blessed not to have anger issues. We have four children who truly get along and enjoy each other's company.
So why, for the love of little green apples. would something as simple as cleaning a room cause so much strife and anguish.
Sure, the twins haven't actually hung up clean clothes for the last week. Yes, it sits in a corner of the closet, next to a Santa hat and a lone shin guard. Sure, Conner stacks all of his clothes on the lower hang bar and if there is no more room for more, he simply throws it over the bar. Of course his toy box is empty but there is a stack of toys on top of it.
Yes, my boys are a bit of slobs. I think that is some what expected. Boys don't really care what they look like. I do have one son with a love of clip on ties. And boy, will he wear them with anything! But no one really expects boys to be neat freaks. It is well documented that (with a few exceptions) most males of the species aren't fully house trained until marriage.
So this brings us to the un-named member of this blog. That would be my daughter, also known as Miss Chif. When she comes down the stairs, she is in matching clothes, accessorized to within an inch.
She has a stable of hats, belts, earrings and other items that match and highlight her outfits, hair and eyes.
So imagine my complete shock when I went into her room to drop off towels. The bed was tossed, there were at least seven outfits on the floor (am I to guess rejects?), there was dirty laundry under the bed, a half eaten cookie and shoes. Dear Lord, there were shoes everywhere!
How does she come out of that room looking so good? Haz Mat should be called in before the whole room reaches critical mass and goes super nova!
So I gingerly put the towels in her bathroom (another frightening zone) and tip toed around her room. I peaked into her closet. I am sorry to say that I will likely need therapy for post traumatic stress.
I gathered all, and I mean all of her discarded clothes and made a giant pile on her bed. I disposed of the Valentines candy (note, it is in March now).
Then I left a supply of laundry baskets, trash bags and bathroom cleaners and I walked out.
I do believe we have reached the point where I am not needed to step in and do the work. We are beyond the point where I am needed to sit and point out one item after another that needs put away.
Caitlyn came how to my wrath. I explained the mess, my disappointment and then I offered her the final straw.
"If you fail to keep your room and clothing neat, there will be no spring clothes. No summer clothes. You will spend summer in cut off jeans and boy t-shirts."
She turned green. Tears welled into her eyes. She stammered several excuses that bounced off my new armor and fell away. I pointed to the mountain of clothes and walked out of the room.
I went downstairs to fold more laundry. I could here sniffling, crying and a frustrated monologue. I felt a great deal of satisfaction. I had pierced the tween facade of maturity, I had proven that I could stick by a plan and mean it.
I folded the laundry and then pulled out a sale catalog from Landsend. Man, they have the cutest girl summer clothes.
And how was your day?
So why, for the love of little green apples. would something as simple as cleaning a room cause so much strife and anguish.
Sure, the twins haven't actually hung up clean clothes for the last week. Yes, it sits in a corner of the closet, next to a Santa hat and a lone shin guard. Sure, Conner stacks all of his clothes on the lower hang bar and if there is no more room for more, he simply throws it over the bar. Of course his toy box is empty but there is a stack of toys on top of it.
Yes, my boys are a bit of slobs. I think that is some what expected. Boys don't really care what they look like. I do have one son with a love of clip on ties. And boy, will he wear them with anything! But no one really expects boys to be neat freaks. It is well documented that (with a few exceptions) most males of the species aren't fully house trained until marriage.
So this brings us to the un-named member of this blog. That would be my daughter, also known as Miss Chif. When she comes down the stairs, she is in matching clothes, accessorized to within an inch.
She has a stable of hats, belts, earrings and other items that match and highlight her outfits, hair and eyes.
So imagine my complete shock when I went into her room to drop off towels. The bed was tossed, there were at least seven outfits on the floor (am I to guess rejects?), there was dirty laundry under the bed, a half eaten cookie and shoes. Dear Lord, there were shoes everywhere!
How does she come out of that room looking so good? Haz Mat should be called in before the whole room reaches critical mass and goes super nova!
So I gingerly put the towels in her bathroom (another frightening zone) and tip toed around her room. I peaked into her closet. I am sorry to say that I will likely need therapy for post traumatic stress.
I gathered all, and I mean all of her discarded clothes and made a giant pile on her bed. I disposed of the Valentines candy (note, it is in March now).
Then I left a supply of laundry baskets, trash bags and bathroom cleaners and I walked out.
I do believe we have reached the point where I am not needed to step in and do the work. We are beyond the point where I am needed to sit and point out one item after another that needs put away.
Caitlyn came how to my wrath. I explained the mess, my disappointment and then I offered her the final straw.
"If you fail to keep your room and clothing neat, there will be no spring clothes. No summer clothes. You will spend summer in cut off jeans and boy t-shirts."
She turned green. Tears welled into her eyes. She stammered several excuses that bounced off my new armor and fell away. I pointed to the mountain of clothes and walked out of the room.
I went downstairs to fold more laundry. I could here sniffling, crying and a frustrated monologue. I felt a great deal of satisfaction. I had pierced the tween facade of maturity, I had proven that I could stick by a plan and mean it.
I folded the laundry and then pulled out a sale catalog from Landsend. Man, they have the cutest girl summer clothes.
And how was your day?
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