Zorak had to go back out of town this week for work. If they hadn't been able to get down to bid'ness (sorry, just had to say it like that) yesterday (Monday), the next day for the project would have been Friday. SO, since Lady Luck has not been present for much of this project, the boys and I tagged along, blatantly hoping for a really worthless Monday and a lovely week on the seaside (you know, in a town that actually wants tourists) with Zorak.
*snort* That so didn't work. Monday's weather was fine and fair (as evidenced out the hotel windows). The work was completed without a hitch.
Well, that's okay, we can head out early Tuesday morning, spend the morning down at the beach and then head home, Zorak and I conversing with one another in relatively uninterrupted sentences, while three exhausted, happy children snoozed in the backseat!
*snort* That also so didn't work. Not just a severe storm warning (as evidenced by The Nothing that moved overhead at a frightening pace), but there were actual tornado reports! Um, we're scrappin' the beach trip, boys, and headin' North!
Ah, well, let's stop and get a bite to eat in one of the little towns just north of here and... (you see where this is going, right?)
In the end, we made it. Zorak got his work done. The boys and I read a ton of books in the hotel room. They played the piano in the lobby. We watched a little (whisper it with me now) cable TV. We had no encounters with tornados. We thoroughly enjoyed our food when we finally found a restaurant! And the boys, while nowhere near "quiet", enjoyed talking back and forth, making a gazillion observations, asking questions mankind has yet to answer, and nodding off in shifts (lest Zorak and I get lonely without their verbal presence).
Yes, in the end, it was a very nice family trip! And it's good to be back.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tuesday, March 8
Saturday, March 5
Who Knew?
Zorak knows WAY more about Men At Work (the band, not some random gathering of male union workers) than I thought possible.
He says, "Of course. This is the 80's. Big stuff."
Oh. Of course.
I love that man!
Dy
He says, "Of course. This is the 80's. Big stuff."
Oh. Of course.
I love that man!
Dy
It's Alive!
Zorak (My Hero!) revived the long-dead carpet cleaner. And boy, HOWDY! I've steamed the living room (twice) and the dining room (twice) and the bottom 2/3 of the stairs (then I started to get a little scared about hauling the thing onto the stairs, or tempting gravity by putting it at the top... with a toddler in the house). The carpet is still nowhere near "white", as it were, but it's relatively clean and the parts that are not clean-looking are actually just very clean stains. I'm ok with that, as it's a huge improvement from the previous condition of the house. I tell you, the carpet had begun to actually absorb light!
Great day making up songs to go along with the stories we read. Read one book in Pig Latin. Yes, aloud. I know.
Wonderful Neighbors had given us a hunk of venison a while back, so today we thawed it, cut it into steaks and ate until we were about to pop. Then I took one more bite (it's just a thin mint...) ugh. Should not have done that, but I hate to see good meat go to waste.
Oh, and anybody know why the WTM boards are down? Zorak responded yesterday to a post on the History of Weaponry, and when he tried to post it- the whole board was gone! (I told him he broke it, but he thinks I'm making that up. Moi?)
I am too tired to blog anymore. We head out for an adventure tomorrow, and the house must be spotless before we go. In that tone, I am going to bed!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Great day making up songs to go along with the stories we read. Read one book in Pig Latin. Yes, aloud. I know.
Wonderful Neighbors had given us a hunk of venison a while back, so today we thawed it, cut it into steaks and ate until we were about to pop. Then I took one more bite (it's just a thin mint...) ugh. Should not have done that, but I hate to see good meat go to waste.
Oh, and anybody know why the WTM boards are down? Zorak responded yesterday to a post on the History of Weaponry, and when he tried to post it- the whole board was gone! (I told him he broke it, but he thinks I'm making that up. Moi?)
I am too tired to blog anymore. We head out for an adventure tomorrow, and the house must be spotless before we go. In that tone, I am going to bed!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Friday, March 4
New Adventures
Smidge had his first solo outing today. The Wonderful Neighbors came over for an afternoon of crafting and Ancient Greece. When all the Daddies were home and it was time for the Wonderful Neighbors to head back to their place, Smidge was absolutely distraught. He stepped to the threshold, waving and crying. Then he put one tenative toe over the line and waited for the "engh" noise Mommy makes (it means "no", and works on children and dogs). I decided I'd like to see what he was going to do, so I didn't stop him.
Well, the little happy explorer just took off after Wonderful Neighbor, his little stubby legs going for all they were worth to catch up with her. She laughed and asked if he was coming for a visit. Smidge said, "Yep," smiled, and waved to me over his shoulder as he scampered down the sidewalk! Wonderful Neighbor said she'd bring him back in a few minutes and asked if she could give him a snack.
I honestly expected that at some point that he'd realize we weren't coming with him and he'd come back, but no. He toddled all the way to the WN's house and straight in for chips and some juice. When she brought him back a few minutes later, he was happy as a clam. She said he played with the girls and ate a bit. She asked him if he was ready to go home and he said no, so she let him play a little more. In a few minutes she asked if he'd like to go home and he said yes and headed straight for the door.
Reason #386 why we love our Wonderful Neighbors.
And Jacob is growing up so quickly. He is happy, friendly, loving, obedient, and cheerful. We are so blessed.
Kiss those babies~ they won't be babies forever!
~Dy
Well, the little happy explorer just took off after Wonderful Neighbor, his little stubby legs going for all they were worth to catch up with her. She laughed and asked if he was coming for a visit. Smidge said, "Yep," smiled, and waved to me over his shoulder as he scampered down the sidewalk! Wonderful Neighbor said she'd bring him back in a few minutes and asked if she could give him a snack.
I honestly expected that at some point that he'd realize we weren't coming with him and he'd come back, but no. He toddled all the way to the WN's house and straight in for chips and some juice. When she brought him back a few minutes later, he was happy as a clam. She said he played with the girls and ate a bit. She asked him if he was ready to go home and he said no, so she let him play a little more. In a few minutes she asked if he'd like to go home and he said yes and headed straight for the door.
Reason #386 why we love our Wonderful Neighbors.
And Jacob is growing up so quickly. He is happy, friendly, loving, obedient, and cheerful. We are so blessed.
Kiss those babies~ they won't be babies forever!
~Dy
Thursday, March 3
What? Do More!?!
Sometimes we are asked to do more than we are doing now, or ever have done before.
That's not always fun.
Or easy.
Sometimes it is.
And that's nice.
But it can still be scary.
The question I beg, though, is how do you rise to the challenge?
This isn't about taking on more than you can handle or schedule. This isn't about trying to be everything to everyone. This is about reaching deeper inside yourself and finding the strength to do far more than you thought possible, when you are truly called upon to do just that. It's something that would benefit society greatly if more of us would do it on a regular basis.
Running is an often-used analogy for this concept. Sarah knows the feeling of running those extra few miles, reaching deeper than the burn in your lungs and coming out with an accomplishment well-earned. She has done that with her children, as well, burrowing deeper and harder to uncover just the thing her children will need, no matter how exhausting it is, or how often she wants to run screaming from the room. She keeps digging.
My wonderful friend, Melissa, has plumbed the depths of her heart, strength and humor to keep her home running smoothly while her husband is often gone, working hard. If you'd asked her fifteen years ago, "could you do it?" She'd have probably looked at you wonky and snorted before she said, "No way!" But here she is today, rich in humor, hope, strength and love, pulling it off. And yes, again with the desire to run screaming from the house on occasion. But that's not the point.
I could go on, listing examples of women who, when asked to Do More for their homes, their families, their countries and their faiths, have taken that slow, scary deep breath... and done it. I'm so fortunate to be acquainted with a great many women who have willingly and wholeheartedly Done More.
Most of the time, Zorak doesn't ask me to do much more than our original agreement (love, honor, bleach the whites). Granted, the boundaries are somewhat fluid, shifting back and forth as circumstances necessitate, but for the most part I've always known what he needed and what I could do. Sometimes I've failed him when he needed the basics. Sometimes I've been able to Do More for him than even he expected. It's not easier to Do More, but it's much better for everyone that way.
I do feel that God, on the other hand, has often glanced at me sideways and whispered, "I need a little more from you, Dy." This comes in subtle ways, such as unemployment or illness or some other upheaval which I cannot control. It comes in obvious ways, such as the daily commitment to do the best by each of the boys, to lift them up and show them the world around them through the eyes of beauty.
I can't think of any specific way to identify when you're being asked to Do More, but if you'll listen and pay attention, then you will know. It's not what you think you can do, it's deeper. And so worth it.
So, all this to say, it's time to Do More here. I'm bracing for it. It'll be good, but I'm sure I'll keep a clear path to the door for when I hit that running-screaming stage. I'm in good company, and want to thank each of you ladies for Doing More, and for doing it with humor and grace and style. Thank you for setting that example and being an encouragement.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
That's not always fun.
Or easy.
Sometimes it is.
And that's nice.
But it can still be scary.
The question I beg, though, is how do you rise to the challenge?
This isn't about taking on more than you can handle or schedule. This isn't about trying to be everything to everyone. This is about reaching deeper inside yourself and finding the strength to do far more than you thought possible, when you are truly called upon to do just that. It's something that would benefit society greatly if more of us would do it on a regular basis.
Running is an often-used analogy for this concept. Sarah knows the feeling of running those extra few miles, reaching deeper than the burn in your lungs and coming out with an accomplishment well-earned. She has done that with her children, as well, burrowing deeper and harder to uncover just the thing her children will need, no matter how exhausting it is, or how often she wants to run screaming from the room. She keeps digging.
My wonderful friend, Melissa, has plumbed the depths of her heart, strength and humor to keep her home running smoothly while her husband is often gone, working hard. If you'd asked her fifteen years ago, "could you do it?" She'd have probably looked at you wonky and snorted before she said, "No way!" But here she is today, rich in humor, hope, strength and love, pulling it off. And yes, again with the desire to run screaming from the house on occasion. But that's not the point.
I could go on, listing examples of women who, when asked to Do More for their homes, their families, their countries and their faiths, have taken that slow, scary deep breath... and done it. I'm so fortunate to be acquainted with a great many women who have willingly and wholeheartedly Done More.
Most of the time, Zorak doesn't ask me to do much more than our original agreement (love, honor, bleach the whites). Granted, the boundaries are somewhat fluid, shifting back and forth as circumstances necessitate, but for the most part I've always known what he needed and what I could do. Sometimes I've failed him when he needed the basics. Sometimes I've been able to Do More for him than even he expected. It's not easier to Do More, but it's much better for everyone that way.
I do feel that God, on the other hand, has often glanced at me sideways and whispered, "I need a little more from you, Dy." This comes in subtle ways, such as unemployment or illness or some other upheaval which I cannot control. It comes in obvious ways, such as the daily commitment to do the best by each of the boys, to lift them up and show them the world around them through the eyes of beauty.
I can't think of any specific way to identify when you're being asked to Do More, but if you'll listen and pay attention, then you will know. It's not what you think you can do, it's deeper. And so worth it.
So, all this to say, it's time to Do More here. I'm bracing for it. It'll be good, but I'm sure I'll keep a clear path to the door for when I hit that running-screaming stage. I'm in good company, and want to thank each of you ladies for Doing More, and for doing it with humor and grace and style. Thank you for setting that example and being an encouragement.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
It all happens so quickly...
Evidently, it happens so quickly that I don't have time to type it in before the thing posts. That was weird. So, I'm reposting this and editing in the text that was meant to be there in the first place.
We heard back on the rodent-infested repo of our dreams, and we did not get it. Evidently somebody else wanted it v-e-r-y much. Now, before you offer your sympathies, let me explain that this is actually very good news. Yes, good news. See, I told you it all happens so quickly! Things have changed quite a bit, and all for the good. But first, a little background is probably in order.
Go ahead and get your cup. I'll wait.
Welcome back. :-)
OK, we've been here 15 months now. While "east of Texas" wasn't anywhere on our top 50 list when Zorak neared graduation in the Spring of '03, we landed here, about as far east as we could go without, well, without slipping into the Atlantic. It's been good, for the most part. There has been some culture shock, but we have been so blessed to meet the cream of the crop here and have enjoyed our friendships tremendously. Zorak's job is wonderful, and he loves his boss, his team, and his job. We have a phenomenal church home (red robes or not), and will soon have our tags for the Suburban paid off. Things are good.
But it's just... not... us.
The biggest issue is the housing market. Had we arrived a year earlier, we'd have been able to purchase a modest home for our brood without being house poor. But we didn't. And we have watched the prices continue to rise without showing any signs of ebbing. It is quite depressing for Zorak to know he spent four years with his nose to the grindstone, accumulating tremendous debt, so that he can uproot from family and support and still not be able to provide a permanent home for his family. This is not due to any lack on his part, but that doesn't lessen the blow. So, there's that.
Then there is just the lifestyle, the "us" of it all. We hunt, we hike. We love archery and elbow room. We have heated debates about the best action for a .260, and whether the ultimate sidearm is a pistol or a revolver. We both dream of the day we can hunt together again. We think a city with a population of 20,000 counts as "the big city", and it's too big for us. We prefer rodeos and live country music to steamed crab and rap. I'm not bashing any lifestyle, just saying that ours is, well, different.
So, Zorak has kept his name in the hat for positions in places that are more in-line with our lifestyle (and our budget!) Every couple of months, we've perused the realty sites for places like Huntsville, AL and Idaho Falls, ID... Ogden, UT and Amarillo, TX. Like Zorak said, "If I've worked this hard and still can't even afford a run-down double wide, it's time to leave!" He's right. And we've been actively looking to either break into the housing market here (which would have allowed us to keep from drowning in the ever-increasing rent and make some headway with our dreams), or find him a job elsewhere.
Well, we can't relocate the chickens before they hatch, but he's been contacted by a gentleman in Huntsville, who would like to interview him. We won't know more for another few weeks (2-3, at the earliest), but Zorak spoke with the gentleman today and it does look promising. I hope to be blogging from Alabama by this summer.
So, you see, it's a very good thing that we didn't win the bid on the house.
And it does all happen so quickly.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
We heard back on the rodent-infested repo of our dreams, and we did not get it. Evidently somebody else wanted it v-e-r-y much. Now, before you offer your sympathies, let me explain that this is actually very good news. Yes, good news. See, I told you it all happens so quickly! Things have changed quite a bit, and all for the good. But first, a little background is probably in order.
Go ahead and get your cup. I'll wait.
Welcome back. :-)
OK, we've been here 15 months now. While "east of Texas" wasn't anywhere on our top 50 list when Zorak neared graduation in the Spring of '03, we landed here, about as far east as we could go without, well, without slipping into the Atlantic. It's been good, for the most part. There has been some culture shock, but we have been so blessed to meet the cream of the crop here and have enjoyed our friendships tremendously. Zorak's job is wonderful, and he loves his boss, his team, and his job. We have a phenomenal church home (red robes or not), and will soon have our tags for the Suburban paid off. Things are good.
But it's just... not... us.
The biggest issue is the housing market. Had we arrived a year earlier, we'd have been able to purchase a modest home for our brood without being house poor. But we didn't. And we have watched the prices continue to rise without showing any signs of ebbing. It is quite depressing for Zorak to know he spent four years with his nose to the grindstone, accumulating tremendous debt, so that he can uproot from family and support and still not be able to provide a permanent home for his family. This is not due to any lack on his part, but that doesn't lessen the blow. So, there's that.
Then there is just the lifestyle, the "us" of it all. We hunt, we hike. We love archery and elbow room. We have heated debates about the best action for a .260, and whether the ultimate sidearm is a pistol or a revolver. We both dream of the day we can hunt together again. We think a city with a population of 20,000 counts as "the big city", and it's too big for us. We prefer rodeos and live country music to steamed crab and rap. I'm not bashing any lifestyle, just saying that ours is, well, different.
So, Zorak has kept his name in the hat for positions in places that are more in-line with our lifestyle (and our budget!) Every couple of months, we've perused the realty sites for places like Huntsville, AL and Idaho Falls, ID... Ogden, UT and Amarillo, TX. Like Zorak said, "If I've worked this hard and still can't even afford a run-down double wide, it's time to leave!" He's right. And we've been actively looking to either break into the housing market here (which would have allowed us to keep from drowning in the ever-increasing rent and make some headway with our dreams), or find him a job elsewhere.
Well, we can't relocate the chickens before they hatch, but he's been contacted by a gentleman in Huntsville, who would like to interview him. We won't know more for another few weeks (2-3, at the earliest), but Zorak spoke with the gentleman today and it does look promising. I hope to be blogging from Alabama by this summer.
So, you see, it's a very good thing that we didn't win the bid on the house.
And it does all happen so quickly.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, March 2
The Greeks ~ Specifically, My Greeks
That was our History study this week: Spartans and Athenians. The boys instantly and without reserve identified with certain aspects of each culture.
John is currently out in the back yard, in training to be a Spartan Warrior. He only has two and a half years before he'll need to leave for the camps, you know.
James wants to know more about Plato, and would like the legal voting age lowered. He's devising waterproof storage for his money so he can bury it in the back yard, too.
The beauty of homeschooling? Teach to their strengths! lol.
I wonder what the market was for real estate between Sparta and Athens?
****
Zorak just phoned- he's on his way home. They didn't get it all done and he'll have to go back at some point, but that's ok. He'll be home tonight! (I'm thinking we'll have, oh, pork roast! *smile*)
Kiss those babies, future warriors and philosophers!
~Dy
John is currently out in the back yard, in training to be a Spartan Warrior. He only has two and a half years before he'll need to leave for the camps, you know.
James wants to know more about Plato, and would like the legal voting age lowered. He's devising waterproof storage for his money so he can bury it in the back yard, too.
The beauty of homeschooling? Teach to their strengths! lol.
I wonder what the market was for real estate between Sparta and Athens?
****
Zorak just phoned- he's on his way home. They didn't get it all done and he'll have to go back at some point, but that's ok. He'll be home tonight! (I'm thinking we'll have, oh, pork roast! *smile*)
Kiss those babies, future warriors and philosophers!
~Dy
Tuesday, March 1
I'm a Dork, long days, good books.
OK, today I'm definitely registering on the exhaustion scale. *whew* Time for more reading!
The Dork of the Day Award goes to yours truly today, by unanimous vote.
I took the trash out and forgot to shut the back door. "MAN!" I thought, an hour or so later, "How high is the heater set? It's downright sweltering in this kitchen!" *der* (The theromostat is directly across from the back door.)
I bought a ham at the market the other day. Put it in the oven today, literally high from the anticipation of supper: sliced ham with grean beans and mashed potatoes. Mmmmm. A few hours into cooking, I realized it didn't smell right. No, I'm imagining that. It's fine. No... That is definitely not a healthy ham smell. Huh. Well, when I pulled it out to check, I realized it was not, in fact, a ham. It was a pork roast. A lovely, juicy pork roast that had been cooked with no seasoning at all because I thought it was salt cured ham! *sigh* OK, folks, I'd love to claim that's a one time thing, but it's not- this is precisely why Zorak buys the meat in our house.
The boys needed haircuts. I did that tonight. Let's just say this does go in the awards category, and it's not for Stylistic Representation of America's Future.
Then, my grand entry in the daily awards: I didn't hear from Zorak tonight, so I called around 9:45 and *sigh* woke him up. He'd eaten supper and started to call me. Next thing he knew, his phone was ringing and he had no idea what time it was. Poor guy. I'm a goob, I know. They got one test done today. Order another round, boys, 'cuz we're staying here! The boys are great- they love and miss you, and are doing fine. Love you. Love you, too, now go back to bed- I'm sorry. T's okay, nite. One minute, twelve seconds; it's amazing how much you can say with just a few words.
****
On the redemption end (equal time and all that good stuff), James and I spent almost an hour playing with trapezoids and learning how to find the area of irregular shapes. He asked. Why not? Fun stuff.
John learned all about the commutative property today. Toes make great manipulatives.
Smidge has stopped climbing atop my head, screaming like wounded yeti while I read aloud. This, alone, gives me hope.
More books poured in from the library, but I have no idea what they are. I'm going to sort and sift here in a bit and will update or post or just mumble about what we're reading now.
On that note, I have JUMEX nectar soaking in the dining room carpet and need to get it out, so this is all the blog for tonight. More in the morning! I have to go refurbish the steam cleaner just long enough to keep the ants at bay.
Kiss those sweet, sticky, wonderful babies!
Dy
The Dork of the Day Award goes to yours truly today, by unanimous vote.
I took the trash out and forgot to shut the back door. "MAN!" I thought, an hour or so later, "How high is the heater set? It's downright sweltering in this kitchen!" *der* (The theromostat is directly across from the back door.)
I bought a ham at the market the other day. Put it in the oven today, literally high from the anticipation of supper: sliced ham with grean beans and mashed potatoes. Mmmmm. A few hours into cooking, I realized it didn't smell right. No, I'm imagining that. It's fine. No... That is definitely not a healthy ham smell. Huh. Well, when I pulled it out to check, I realized it was not, in fact, a ham. It was a pork roast. A lovely, juicy pork roast that had been cooked with no seasoning at all because I thought it was salt cured ham! *sigh* OK, folks, I'd love to claim that's a one time thing, but it's not- this is precisely why Zorak buys the meat in our house.
The boys needed haircuts. I did that tonight. Let's just say this does go in the awards category, and it's not for Stylistic Representation of America's Future.
Then, my grand entry in the daily awards: I didn't hear from Zorak tonight, so I called around 9:45 and *sigh* woke him up. He'd eaten supper and started to call me. Next thing he knew, his phone was ringing and he had no idea what time it was. Poor guy. I'm a goob, I know. They got one test done today. Order another round, boys, 'cuz we're staying here! The boys are great- they love and miss you, and are doing fine. Love you. Love you, too, now go back to bed- I'm sorry. T's okay, nite. One minute, twelve seconds; it's amazing how much you can say with just a few words.
****
On the redemption end (equal time and all that good stuff), James and I spent almost an hour playing with trapezoids and learning how to find the area of irregular shapes. He asked. Why not? Fun stuff.
John learned all about the commutative property today. Toes make great manipulatives.
Smidge has stopped climbing atop my head, screaming like wounded yeti while I read aloud. This, alone, gives me hope.
More books poured in from the library, but I have no idea what they are. I'm going to sort and sift here in a bit and will update or post or just mumble about what we're reading now.
On that note, I have JUMEX nectar soaking in the dining room carpet and need to get it out, so this is all the blog for tonight. More in the morning! I have to go refurbish the steam cleaner just long enough to keep the ants at bay.
Kiss those sweet, sticky, wonderful babies!
Dy
Monday, February 28
Day One is Over
We survived. No, better than that, we had a great time! Evidently I'm not as much of a wuss as I thought. I kicked into Mommy Commando Mode and took charge of the day! True, camo isn't quite as spiffy as the Wonder Woman gear, but I take what I can get.
Since the county schools had their pre-emptive snow day, and the boys were having way too much fun playing together, I called a modified schedule and just let them play. Caffeine has nuthin' on the effects of children's laughter! Hi. My name is Dy. I am addicted to children's laughter.
When Smidge went down for a nap, we enjoyed a light lunch and a game of Chinese Checkers. We played for Skittles, but the stakes weren't very high. You got one skittle for each marble you landed on your objective, so everyone got ten skittles at the end. I also handed out spontaneous "good sportsmanship skittles" (for voluntary and un-coerced great behavior). They boys added a rule that you have to run laps around the house while waiting for your turn. Um. OK. Have at it, you'll sleep like wee exhausted logs tonight, boys! *muaahhhhahhhaahhhh!*
Since evenings are when Zorak normally takes the boys (you know, bath, jammies, bed), I figured the best way to avoid the You-don't-do-it-the-way-Daddy-does-it blues would be to just make everything completely different! We left the house at four to run errands: market, dollar store, library. We got home for potato soup around seven! We danced in the living room to a Raffi video and had a wonderful time. I really enjoy these kids - they are hilarious.
Zorak's testing was rained out. (Shocker! I think the guy who plans the range time for The Project is the only person alive who is not aware that we do have the technology to at least guestimate what tomorrow's weather will be.) They'll try again tomorrow. And the day after, and the day after -- until the Easter Chicken comes and sprinkles them with good-weather dust, or Uncle Sam gives up and orders us to all move to Cherry Point! Either way, his stay has been extended.
I'll have to think up individual interview questions, and will post them tomorrow night. How fun! Thanks for joining in, guys!
Cheryl, yes, I know what you mean. We didn't expect anything to come out of it, either. Neither of us was looking for anything serious (in any way, shape, or form), and we were up front about that from the start (almost painfully so, to be honest). The best way we have been able to explain it is that we knew each other in our hearts, but didn't recognize one another right away. When we did, it was one of those very definite, "Oh! I know you!" moments. We each filled a void in each other's hearts that neither of us knew existed until it had been filled. I don't think you can hide from that- it'll find you, even in a dark, country bar. *smile* Thankfully.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Since the county schools had their pre-emptive snow day, and the boys were having way too much fun playing together, I called a modified schedule and just let them play. Caffeine has nuthin' on the effects of children's laughter! Hi. My name is Dy. I am addicted to children's laughter.
When Smidge went down for a nap, we enjoyed a light lunch and a game of Chinese Checkers. We played for Skittles, but the stakes weren't very high. You got one skittle for each marble you landed on your objective, so everyone got ten skittles at the end. I also handed out spontaneous "good sportsmanship skittles" (for voluntary and un-coerced great behavior). They boys added a rule that you have to run laps around the house while waiting for your turn. Um. OK. Have at it, you'll sleep like wee exhausted logs tonight, boys! *muaahhhhahhhaahhhh!*
Since evenings are when Zorak normally takes the boys (you know, bath, jammies, bed), I figured the best way to avoid the You-don't-do-it-the-way-Daddy-does-it blues would be to just make everything completely different! We left the house at four to run errands: market, dollar store, library. We got home for potato soup around seven! We danced in the living room to a Raffi video and had a wonderful time. I really enjoy these kids - they are hilarious.
Zorak's testing was rained out. (Shocker! I think the guy who plans the range time for The Project is the only person alive who is not aware that we do have the technology to at least guestimate what tomorrow's weather will be.) They'll try again tomorrow. And the day after, and the day after -- until the Easter Chicken comes and sprinkles them with good-weather dust, or Uncle Sam gives up and orders us to all move to Cherry Point! Either way, his stay has been extended.
I'll have to think up individual interview questions, and will post them tomorrow night. How fun! Thanks for joining in, guys!
Cheryl, yes, I know what you mean. We didn't expect anything to come out of it, either. Neither of us was looking for anything serious (in any way, shape, or form), and we were up front about that from the start (almost painfully so, to be honest). The best way we have been able to explain it is that we knew each other in our hearts, but didn't recognize one another right away. When we did, it was one of those very definite, "Oh! I know you!" moments. We each filled a void in each other's hearts that neither of us knew existed until it had been filled. I don't think you can hide from that- it'll find you, even in a dark, country bar. *smile* Thankfully.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
*sigh* Day One
It's gonna be a long week.
Captain Aubrey may be dashing and quite heroic, but he is just not as fun to curl up with at night as Zorak. *sigh* I hope this week goes quickly.
It's not the security factor, or even the comfort factor. It's not having my side of the bed warmed at night! It's not having someone to have coffee and make primal grunting noises to while we wake up. (The boys seem to avoid me until I can make proper English sounds.) It's not having someone to point out the beautiful sense of the absurd during the day. (I am horribly dull. It just hit me- I am the straight man in this relationship! ARGH! But there you have it, I'm the normal one. He's the one that adds color and humor where otherwise, it goes unnoticed.)
Zorak, if you get to a computer while you're away, know that you're loved and missed! The boys are fine- they're fed and snuggled and happy. But we do miss you.
On other topics:
I admit it, I took all the Mr. Goodbars and the peanut butter cups out of the Springtime Mix bag of chocolates we bought at BJ's. There, I said it. I don't have many more years to get away with this before the boys realize what I'm up to. I'm going to enjoy it while I can. :-)
Wouldn't you know it? While we're waiting for the bid results, a fantastic house popped up on the market! IN our price range, IN this county (which means no trips over the big, scary bridge & a shorter commute for Zorak). It's on over an acre. If we don't get the repo, this one's gonna be gone.
Peace, peace, peace. Comfort, comfort, comfort. Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate.
OK, we're off to the market. It should be bustling. They closed the schools today because it "might" snow! Hee hee. That's funny.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Captain Aubrey may be dashing and quite heroic, but he is just not as fun to curl up with at night as Zorak. *sigh* I hope this week goes quickly.
It's not the security factor, or even the comfort factor. It's not having my side of the bed warmed at night! It's not having someone to have coffee and make primal grunting noises to while we wake up. (The boys seem to avoid me until I can make proper English sounds.) It's not having someone to point out the beautiful sense of the absurd during the day. (I am horribly dull. It just hit me- I am the straight man in this relationship! ARGH! But there you have it, I'm the normal one. He's the one that adds color and humor where otherwise, it goes unnoticed.)
Zorak, if you get to a computer while you're away, know that you're loved and missed! The boys are fine- they're fed and snuggled and happy. But we do miss you.
On other topics:
I admit it, I took all the Mr. Goodbars and the peanut butter cups out of the Springtime Mix bag of chocolates we bought at BJ's. There, I said it. I don't have many more years to get away with this before the boys realize what I'm up to. I'm going to enjoy it while I can. :-)
Wouldn't you know it? While we're waiting for the bid results, a fantastic house popped up on the market! IN our price range, IN this county (which means no trips over the big, scary bridge & a shorter commute for Zorak). It's on over an acre. If we don't get the repo, this one's gonna be gone.
Peace, peace, peace. Comfort, comfort, comfort. Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate.
OK, we're off to the market. It should be bustling. They closed the schools today because it "might" snow! Hee hee. That's funny.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sunday, February 27
The Interview
Alright, so I'm, what, the second to last person ever to do one of these? You know how they work (I had to re-read the directions). Chris interviewed me, so here are my answers. If you'd like an interview, post "Interview Me" in the comments section- I'll interview the first five respondants here and you can either reply in the comments (so if you don't have a blog, but would like to do this) or blog your response and let me know when you've answered! Have fun!
1. What is your biggest challenge in homeschooling and how do you cope?
Oh, that's easy: keeping it fun. I'm not a fun person when it comes to learning. Learning should be prolonged and painful. It should make you sweat, darnit! In a previous life, I taught in a dark, scary Middle Ages monastery. Thankfully, the boys tow the line there and keep me focused on the "good stuff". They insist on laughter and raucous giggle fests. They bribe me, too, with their gleaming eyes and tinkling laughter. I can't resist, and I find myself going against every grain in my body to make things fun.
It wears me out, to be honest. But, it's so worth it. Maybe by the time they leave for college it'll be habit and I can turn my machinations on Zorak?
2. Just beyond the edge of househunting sanity, you fly to Las Vegas for the World Realtor’s Association convention. You have strapped explosives and an ignitor to your body, you bum-rush security and steal the microphone from Ms. Perky Realtyface. You now have the attention of the entire realty world, what do you say? Or do you just laugh maniacally and push the button?
Oh, the laughing and button pushing sounds so appealing! I'm thinking that screaming in my most maniacal voice, "YOU'RE NOT LISTENING TO ME!!!" or just uttering a prolonged series of statements, muttered only loudly enough for witnesses to recount them to the media and get the message out, would be the best way to go. Actually, with more thought on it, I'm thinking the second is the best way to go- with the first, news reports might begin with, "Filled with adolescent angst, 32 year old..." Yeah, that would be weird. Well, more weird than bombing the realtor's convention.
3. Tell us one of your Theme Songs. What song do you play for/sing to yourself under what circumstances? You get extra Nothing Points for posting the lyrics.
Ultimate Theme Songs (songs that can pick me up, give me a charge, and turn my head): Copperhead Road by Steve Earl, and The Devil's Right Hand. And I like to superimpose the whistling part of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly soundtrack at the beginning of any good driving tape.
For the All-Around Theme Song, though, I'm going to go with "My Own Heart's Desire" by Ian Tyson- it's a waltz, and it's beautiful.
1.There's a light in the kitchen
As I cross the valley and head her on into the yard
My wife is watching from that light in the kitchen
As I cross that old cattle guard
I unload my horses -- Two Bits and Roanie
And throw them a few Flakes of hay
My wife comes to meet me with that determined look
The first thing that I heard her say
Chorus:
Darlin' we haven't gone dancing
For such a long time now
It's been so long since we twirled around the dance floor
I've almost forgotten how
So gas up the pick-up
I'll bring the babies
They'll stay with the neighbors tonight
If the band at the bar
Can play waltzes and shuffles
I'm gonna dance with my own heart's delight
2.So I drank a cold one
I sang in the shower
I pondered upon marriage and such
They say this country was hell on horses and women
I guess it ain't changed all that much
We make a good team my lady and I
I couldn't ask for anything more
If you don't believe me
Just catch us tonight
We'll be the best dancers out on that floor
4. What is your most embarassing/entertaining Kids in Public story?
Wow, the minute I read this, I couldn't think of any Zorak would let me repeat in public. (I know, I tried- he nix'd three very good ones.) So far, our stash of these have come courtesy of John, who just doesn't have the same sense of propriety that James does. If you were to meet John, you'd see that he is all hugs and snuggles (sometimes like being snuggled by a rhino, but still snuggly), and yet he's the king of the food chain. That child has no fear- not of dragons, not of electricity. He's the Alpha male - in his own mind, anyway.
At one of James' birthday parties, our neighbors, Ben & Claudia, were there, with their wee son, Sam. Sam was playing happily under the counter when John spiedthe prey on the Savannah, er, the baby on the carpet. He had a paper towel tube. The stalk was on. What he didn't realize was that Ben was standing in the kitchen, observing the whole process: clueless baby vs. mighty hunter. Ben didn't say anything to pre-empt it - he wanted to see what John would do. (We share a wonderfully warped sense of humor with these folks- hence, the deep and beautiful friendship!) John got within a foot of Sam, tube raised high to strike, when he saw Ben. Without missing a beat, John whipped that tube around to his eye and surveyed the living room through his new "telescope". When he swung it back around to Ben, he saw that Ben was still watching. So he faltered, for just a split second, turned the telescope into a cane, which he leaned on and hobbled off.
Ben was still laughing when he told us about it after the party.
5. How did you and Zorak meet?
It's your typical "travelling salesman meets office manager" romance. Ours has fared better than the ones that generally get published. I was at my favorite seedy country bar one night with friends. He was there with his cousin. He never said a word to me, but when he took his cousin home, he told him he was going back "to ask that blonde to dance".
When he asked me to dance, I was leery and pretty certain my feet were going to pay for it, but I was there to dance (and he was really cute). He was wearing Dockers, dress shoes and a business-style button-up shirt. I thought it brave and kind of sexy of him to wear that into this particular bar, but seriously, wouldn't you be a little leery? Wow! He could dance! Quite well! "How'd you learn to dance?" He laughed, "I grew up on a sheep ranch." Oh, well, how can you not want to hear that story, right?
We had so much fun, and felt so comfortable with each other. I broke two of my cardinal rules for him: I let him buy me a beer (two bouncers came to verify that 1) I'd said he could, and 2) I wasn't slobbering drunk and out of my mind, before the bartender would give him the beer); I let him walk me out (normally, nobody but a bouncer left with me- and they made me tell them where I was going) When the bar closed, we drove to my favorite haunt (the truckstop- don't laugh, they had kick-ass chicken friend steak, and bottomless coffee, not to mention the place was filled with folks I knew who would come looking for me if I disappeared!) where we talked and laughed until it was time for both of us to go back to work. He was a little unsettled when every bouncer in the bar filed past us about an hour after we sat down, but he handled it with the grace and upfront openness that he does everything he encounters.
Anyhow, we had a great time, got along famously, promised not to get attached to one another, and saw each other daily every time he came to town.
At some point, we just sort of realized it was too late- we were attached. That was almost ten years ago. Good stuff!
Thanks for the interview!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
1. What is your biggest challenge in homeschooling and how do you cope?
Oh, that's easy: keeping it fun. I'm not a fun person when it comes to learning. Learning should be prolonged and painful. It should make you sweat, darnit! In a previous life, I taught in a dark, scary Middle Ages monastery. Thankfully, the boys tow the line there and keep me focused on the "good stuff". They insist on laughter and raucous giggle fests. They bribe me, too, with their gleaming eyes and tinkling laughter. I can't resist, and I find myself going against every grain in my body to make things fun.
It wears me out, to be honest. But, it's so worth it. Maybe by the time they leave for college it'll be habit and I can turn my machinations on Zorak?
2. Just beyond the edge of househunting sanity, you fly to Las Vegas for the World Realtor’s Association convention. You have strapped explosives and an ignitor to your body, you bum-rush security and steal the microphone from Ms. Perky Realtyface. You now have the attention of the entire realty world, what do you say? Or do you just laugh maniacally and push the button?
Oh, the laughing and button pushing sounds so appealing! I'm thinking that screaming in my most maniacal voice, "YOU'RE NOT LISTENING TO ME!!!" or just uttering a prolonged series of statements, muttered only loudly enough for witnesses to recount them to the media and get the message out, would be the best way to go. Actually, with more thought on it, I'm thinking the second is the best way to go- with the first, news reports might begin with, "Filled with adolescent angst, 32 year old..." Yeah, that would be weird. Well, more weird than bombing the realtor's convention.
3. Tell us one of your Theme Songs. What song do you play for/sing to yourself under what circumstances? You get extra Nothing Points for posting the lyrics.
Ultimate Theme Songs (songs that can pick me up, give me a charge, and turn my head): Copperhead Road by Steve Earl, and The Devil's Right Hand. And I like to superimpose the whistling part of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly soundtrack at the beginning of any good driving tape.
For the All-Around Theme Song, though, I'm going to go with "My Own Heart's Desire" by Ian Tyson- it's a waltz, and it's beautiful.
1.There's a light in the kitchen
As I cross the valley and head her on into the yard
My wife is watching from that light in the kitchen
As I cross that old cattle guard
I unload my horses -- Two Bits and Roanie
And throw them a few Flakes of hay
My wife comes to meet me with that determined look
The first thing that I heard her say
Chorus:
Darlin' we haven't gone dancing
For such a long time now
It's been so long since we twirled around the dance floor
I've almost forgotten how
So gas up the pick-up
I'll bring the babies
They'll stay with the neighbors tonight
If the band at the bar
Can play waltzes and shuffles
I'm gonna dance with my own heart's delight
2.So I drank a cold one
I sang in the shower
I pondered upon marriage and such
They say this country was hell on horses and women
I guess it ain't changed all that much
We make a good team my lady and I
I couldn't ask for anything more
If you don't believe me
Just catch us tonight
We'll be the best dancers out on that floor
4. What is your most embarassing/entertaining Kids in Public story?
Wow, the minute I read this, I couldn't think of any Zorak would let me repeat in public. (I know, I tried- he nix'd three very good ones.) So far, our stash of these have come courtesy of John, who just doesn't have the same sense of propriety that James does. If you were to meet John, you'd see that he is all hugs and snuggles (sometimes like being snuggled by a rhino, but still snuggly), and yet he's the king of the food chain. That child has no fear- not of dragons, not of electricity. He's the Alpha male - in his own mind, anyway.
At one of James' birthday parties, our neighbors, Ben & Claudia, were there, with their wee son, Sam. Sam was playing happily under the counter when John spied
Ben was still laughing when he told us about it after the party.
5. How did you and Zorak meet?
It's your typical "travelling salesman meets office manager" romance. Ours has fared better than the ones that generally get published. I was at my favorite seedy country bar one night with friends. He was there with his cousin. He never said a word to me, but when he took his cousin home, he told him he was going back "to ask that blonde to dance".
When he asked me to dance, I was leery and pretty certain my feet were going to pay for it, but I was there to dance (and he was really cute). He was wearing Dockers, dress shoes and a business-style button-up shirt. I thought it brave and kind of sexy of him to wear that into this particular bar, but seriously, wouldn't you be a little leery? Wow! He could dance! Quite well! "How'd you learn to dance?" He laughed, "I grew up on a sheep ranch." Oh, well, how can you not want to hear that story, right?
We had so much fun, and felt so comfortable with each other. I broke two of my cardinal rules for him: I let him buy me a beer (two bouncers came to verify that 1) I'd said he could, and 2) I wasn't slobbering drunk and out of my mind, before the bartender would give him the beer); I let him walk me out (normally, nobody but a bouncer left with me- and they made me tell them where I was going) When the bar closed, we drove to my favorite haunt (the truckstop- don't laugh, they had kick-ass chicken friend steak, and bottomless coffee, not to mention the place was filled with folks I knew who would come looking for me if I disappeared!) where we talked and laughed until it was time for both of us to go back to work. He was a little unsettled when every bouncer in the bar filed past us about an hour after we sat down, but he handled it with the grace and upfront openness that he does everything he encounters.
Anyhow, we had a great time, got along famously, promised not to get attached to one another, and saw each other daily every time he came to town.
At some point, we just sort of realized it was too late- we were attached. That was almost ten years ago. Good stuff!
Thanks for the interview!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Saturday, February 26
House Update (not ours)
Alaska and the Puppies have been house hunting (rather, she's been house hunting and they've been enjoying a Dude-A-Palooza), and it sounds like they've got a line on a good one! Today, Chris was discussing their plans for selling themselves on the current owners and mentioned that he may have heard it from me.
Sort of.
It was suggested in our comments that we give it a shot, and I did approach the boys on it. I don't mind playing dirty, really. James was all a-go on the idea and promptly sat down to draw up a heart-melting scene for the VA to oooohhh and ahhhh over, showing the industrious Veteran and his happy, hope-of-tomorrow brood, enjoying their very own home.
This is what he brought me:
I love the happy family up on the flat part of the roof (yes, it actually looks like that). However, there are a few items that caused us to refrain from sending the picture in with our bid.
The main question that begged to be asked: "Who is that on the chimney?"
James: That's John. He was cold. But he caught on fire.
(Which I can see by the red face and the smoke billowing from his... er, yes, I see.)
Also, note there is no baby in the picture. We don't know where he is. Possibly he's inside, stoking the fire.
Me: So, um, who's the guy in the sky with the wand and the goatee? Is that God?
James: Oh no! That's the house fairy, sprinkling magic happy house dust on us.
(OK, that's cool. But still, the flaming child on the left freaks me out, and you know how suspicious folks can be of us homeshcooling families!)
We should have asked Max to draw one up for us.
So, anyhow, Congrats to Alaska and the Puppies on making headway and being so darned cute in the process! I hope AK is getting some much-needed introvert tending time tonight. I will continue to live vicariously through you guys!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sort of.
It was suggested in our comments that we give it a shot, and I did approach the boys on it. I don't mind playing dirty, really. James was all a-go on the idea and promptly sat down to draw up a heart-melting scene for the VA to oooohhh and ahhhh over, showing the industrious Veteran and his happy, hope-of-tomorrow brood, enjoying their very own home.
This is what he brought me:
I love the happy family up on the flat part of the roof (yes, it actually looks like that). However, there are a few items that caused us to refrain from sending the picture in with our bid.
The main question that begged to be asked: "Who is that on the chimney?"
James: That's John. He was cold. But he caught on fire.
(Which I can see by the red face and the smoke billowing from his... er, yes, I see.)
Also, note there is no baby in the picture. We don't know where he is. Possibly he's inside, stoking the fire.
Me: So, um, who's the guy in the sky with the wand and the goatee? Is that God?
James: Oh no! That's the house fairy, sprinkling magic happy house dust on us.
(OK, that's cool. But still, the flaming child on the left freaks me out, and you know how suspicious folks can be of us homeshcooling families!)
We should have asked Max to draw one up for us.
So, anyhow, Congrats to Alaska and the Puppies on making headway and being so darned cute in the process! I hope AK is getting some much-needed introvert tending time tonight. I will continue to live vicariously through you guys!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Friday, February 25
Frozen Drool, Wonder Woman and LOUD babies
I had the day "all planned out": market, Wal-Mart, BJ's (we've been holding off until payday, can ya tell?) But then Zorak had to work. And we slept in. And by the time we had everyone fed, dressed and dropped off, the boys and I made it to BJ's. That was it. Two of three were out cold and drooling when I pulled into the Shopper's lot. It was too cold today to drag them through the parking lot with wet shirts, so we headed home.
Three of four napped. Thankfully, James likes to read undisturbed for hours at a time. I meant to lay down with the baby just long enough to get him back to sleep, but he has this bizarre Star Wars-like ability to throw me into a trance. "This is not the toddler you're looking for." OK. If ever there is an intergalactic war between good and evil, don't bother to draft me. I will be of no use to you.
Zorak thought he'd be done by four. Well, maybe four thirty. OK, be there around five-ish. Closer to six. Poor guy. By the time they were done with the briefing and ready to go, it was seven o'clock. He hadn't eaten all day, and he was cold, tired and g-r-u-m-p-y. We have secret plans to make tomorrow a special day for him. He heads off Sunday for who-knows-how-long. The change of scenery will be nice, and this trip will bring The Project closer to completion, which will do wonders for his enthusiasm in general.
You know, I hate not being able to improve things for him in that realm, directly, and it's difficult to stay focused on improving things for him by the indirect means at my disposal: timely meals, tidy house, clean skivvies on demand, that kind of thing. It matters, I know, but that's hard to get enthusiastic about it when what I really want to do is break out the golden bracelets and sparkly boots and take on the dark forces of the universe!!!
And might I just go on record as saying that Smidge is the - I kid you not, and no, this isn't a case of selective amnesia - THE loudest child we have ever had! Holy Bat Crap, Robin, what are you feeding that child? It's not as bad as it could be, I suppose, as it's usually a happy noise, but... still, seriously. When you are accustomed to having children who use their inside voices from the age of, oh, ONE, on, it's downright shocking to have one that squeals so heartily you'd swear he's strained something doing it. I wanted to d-i-e tonight at dinner. Thankfully, three tables of people made a point of coming up to our table and commenting that the boys are wonderfully behaved and so cute, such a joy to watch and we must really enjoy them, etc. Bless those kind souls. There is a special place in heaven for folks who can handle the occasional Happy Baby Eruption Of Glee and don't see it as further proof of the lack of respect for others in today's society.
And on the plus side, Smidge learned to put his finger to his mouth and say, "Shhhhh, yes, shhhhhh" tonight. So, that was a bonus.
The house is quiet, the laundry can wait. I am going to go read Treason's Harbour with a hot cup of coffee and some chocolate!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Three of four napped. Thankfully, James likes to read undisturbed for hours at a time. I meant to lay down with the baby just long enough to get him back to sleep, but he has this bizarre Star Wars-like ability to throw me into a trance. "This is not the toddler you're looking for." OK. If ever there is an intergalactic war between good and evil, don't bother to draft me. I will be of no use to you.
Zorak thought he'd be done by four. Well, maybe four thirty. OK, be there around five-ish. Closer to six. Poor guy. By the time they were done with the briefing and ready to go, it was seven o'clock. He hadn't eaten all day, and he was cold, tired and g-r-u-m-p-y. We have secret plans to make tomorrow a special day for him. He heads off Sunday for who-knows-how-long. The change of scenery will be nice, and this trip will bring The Project closer to completion, which will do wonders for his enthusiasm in general.
You know, I hate not being able to improve things for him in that realm, directly, and it's difficult to stay focused on improving things for him by the indirect means at my disposal: timely meals, tidy house, clean skivvies on demand, that kind of thing. It matters, I know, but that's hard to get enthusiastic about it when what I really want to do is break out the golden bracelets and sparkly boots and take on the dark forces of the universe!!!
And might I just go on record as saying that Smidge is the - I kid you not, and no, this isn't a case of selective amnesia - THE loudest child we have ever had! Holy Bat Crap, Robin, what are you feeding that child? It's not as bad as it could be, I suppose, as it's usually a happy noise, but... still, seriously. When you are accustomed to having children who use their inside voices from the age of, oh, ONE, on, it's downright shocking to have one that squeals so heartily you'd swear he's strained something doing it. I wanted to d-i-e tonight at dinner. Thankfully, three tables of people made a point of coming up to our table and commenting that the boys are wonderfully behaved and so cute, such a joy to watch and we must really enjoy them, etc. Bless those kind souls. There is a special place in heaven for folks who can handle the occasional Happy Baby Eruption Of Glee and don't see it as further proof of the lack of respect for others in today's society.
And on the plus side, Smidge learned to put his finger to his mouth and say, "Shhhhh, yes, shhhhhh" tonight. So, that was a bonus.
The house is quiet, the laundry can wait. I am going to go read Treason's Harbour with a hot cup of coffee and some chocolate!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Thursday, February 24
We Got 'Da Snow!
I don't bother with The Weather Channel online anymore. I'm pretty sure they've just put up an infinite "weather warning" for St. Mary's County and call it good. Could be good, could be bad- they don't know, but you're gonna get weather, folks.
I prefer to wait for my little insta-weather guys to fill me in. This morning is a good example. The alarm went off, and I heard, "Mama, it's morning and it's snowing! It's been snowing for a while!"
Now, that's the way to wake up in the morning! Who needs to know the exact temperature? Who cares how long it's going to last? John's morning weather alert told me all I need to know:
* School (at least ours) will be on an abbreviated schedule today.
* Waterproof outer gear is the attire of the day.
* There will be hot chocolate and thick, hot muffins served this afternoon.
Wow, come to think of it, he's like a little pre-programmed Day Planner, too! All in one snuggly little package! Cool.
So whatever weather you're having today, I hope you enjoy your home and your family in it.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
I prefer to wait for my little insta-weather guys to fill me in. This morning is a good example. The alarm went off, and I heard, "Mama, it's morning and it's snowing! It's been snowing for a while!"
Now, that's the way to wake up in the morning! Who needs to know the exact temperature? Who cares how long it's going to last? John's morning weather alert told me all I need to know:
* School (at least ours) will be on an abbreviated schedule today.
* Waterproof outer gear is the attire of the day.
* There will be hot chocolate and thick, hot muffins served this afternoon.
Wow, come to think of it, he's like a little pre-programmed Day Planner, too! All in one snuggly little package! Cool.
So whatever weather you're having today, I hope you enjoy your home and your family in it.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Up Too Late & Being Available
Some people are just so thoroughly enjoyable. But they're bad for you, because you end up laughing and talking until almost one thirty in the morning...
Wait a minute! Since when is laughing til the wee hours of the night bad for you? There are much worse ways to spend an evening, definitely. And so, it's quite late and I've told Melissa everything I had to say- so right now nothing sounds quite fresh enough to blog. And I'm tired.
****
The boys were wonderful tonight. I coached the boys ahead of time that they can come to me ANY time they need me. The pre-arranged child-care had me a little anxious, knowing it would be somebody from the church (and the church is big on letting little ones cry it out rather than "disturb" Mommy by coming to get her. I find it more disturbing to think my children were denied access to me, so my children stay with me.) But this was at a private home and they would be within earshot. Plus, I taught them a pre-arranged sentence to utter if anyone tried to stop them from coming to get me. It was based on James' question, "But Mom, what if they say you're busy?" Repeat after me:
Smidge came in and out pretty regularly, as toddlers will do. That's what they do. They wander off to be independent for a while, then come tank up on Mama Lovin's, and they're off again. I don't believe in interfering with that. That's what I'm here for, and that's what the toddler needs: a home base from which to launch his explorations of the world around him. I could tell it really bothered the sitter, who usually came into the room hot on Smidge's heels with an apologetic look on his face. I'd swoop Smidge up onto my lap and he'd nestle in for a minute or two, then give me a beso and trot off to the next adventure. No fussing. No crying. No disturbance of the dialogue among adults. Nobody rolled their eyes. The other toddlers, however, tried a similar route and were turned back by their parents every time. This inevitably disrupted the study, the calm, and the toddlers. Apologies all around by the harried parents, tense smiles from the other participants.
Near the end of the study, I did hear an adamant little voice telling the teenager in charge, "My Mama said she is never too busy for me!" I smiled. And retrieved my sullen, yet determined four-year old. He came and sat quietly while we prayed, then kissed my cheek, signed "I love you" and ran off to play again.
****
On the way home after picking up Zorak from the hangar, James asked, "Mom, who is my uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's wife?" So I did the math and added all the great's in there and gave him an answer. "Oh," he said. He was quiet for a minute and then we heard, "What's her name?"
****
The two younger boys were unaware of the world by the time we got home. We loaded them in their beds, and hung out with James for a bit, eating in the living room, discussing rocks and other fun six-year old stuff. They were just finishing off the peas when Zorak brought up the peas poem (You know, I eat my peas with honey/ I've done so all my life...) James remembered it and thought it was ok. But then Zorak made up a new poem:
I don't know where he comes up with these things, but it had James in stitches and when he finally caught his breath, he said, "Dad, you really need to write that down." And here it is.
I'll see y'all in the morning!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wait a minute! Since when is laughing til the wee hours of the night bad for you? There are much worse ways to spend an evening, definitely. And so, it's quite late and I've told Melissa everything I had to say- so right now nothing sounds quite fresh enough to blog. And I'm tired.
****
The boys were wonderful tonight. I coached the boys ahead of time that they can come to me ANY time they need me. The pre-arranged child-care had me a little anxious, knowing it would be somebody from the church (and the church is big on letting little ones cry it out rather than "disturb" Mommy by coming to get her. I find it more disturbing to think my children were denied access to me, so my children stay with me.) But this was at a private home and they would be within earshot. Plus, I taught them a pre-arranged sentence to utter if anyone tried to stop them from coming to get me. It was based on James' question, "But Mom, what if they say you're busy?" Repeat after me:
"My Mama is never too busy for me. She said I can go to her any time I need her. Please move."They both had it memorized before we got to the house. We all felt better when we arrived.
Smidge came in and out pretty regularly, as toddlers will do. That's what they do. They wander off to be independent for a while, then come tank up on Mama Lovin's, and they're off again. I don't believe in interfering with that. That's what I'm here for, and that's what the toddler needs: a home base from which to launch his explorations of the world around him. I could tell it really bothered the sitter, who usually came into the room hot on Smidge's heels with an apologetic look on his face. I'd swoop Smidge up onto my lap and he'd nestle in for a minute or two, then give me a beso and trot off to the next adventure. No fussing. No crying. No disturbance of the dialogue among adults. Nobody rolled their eyes. The other toddlers, however, tried a similar route and were turned back by their parents every time. This inevitably disrupted the study, the calm, and the toddlers. Apologies all around by the harried parents, tense smiles from the other participants.
Near the end of the study, I did hear an adamant little voice telling the teenager in charge, "My Mama said she is never too busy for me!" I smiled. And retrieved my sullen, yet determined four-year old. He came and sat quietly while we prayed, then kissed my cheek, signed "I love you" and ran off to play again.
****
On the way home after picking up Zorak from the hangar, James asked, "Mom, who is my uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's uncle's wife?" So I did the math and added all the great's in there and gave him an answer. "Oh," he said. He was quiet for a minute and then we heard, "What's her name?"
****
The two younger boys were unaware of the world by the time we got home. We loaded them in their beds, and hung out with James for a bit, eating in the living room, discussing rocks and other fun six-year old stuff. They were just finishing off the peas when Zorak brought up the peas poem (You know, I eat my peas with honey/ I've done so all my life...) James remembered it and thought it was ok. But then Zorak made up a new poem:
I eat my peas with glue
I've done it since I was four
It makes them hard to chew
But it keeps them on the door
I don't know where he comes up with these things, but it had James in stitches and when he finally caught his breath, he said, "Dad, you really need to write that down." And here it is.
I'll see y'all in the morning!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, February 23
Comment Fixes & Other Stuff
Hey guys- Melissa emailed me to say the comments had just quit working. I've switched them to pop-up version now, so we'll see if that works.
Today, the hustle and bustle ends. It's over. We placed our bid for the house on XYZ street. It's a sealed bid situation, and we won't know the outcome until next Thursday or Friday. So.
On to other things!
Zorak has to fly tonight. He sounded heartbroken on the phone- not only does he get overtime and get to play with a great helicopter, but he won't be able to make it to the Bible study he'd signed us up for, either. Of course, that kind of heartbreak was nothing compared to the groan of utter despair he let out when I told him it would be ok if he missed the first one. *hee hee*
We had a great afternoon! We dropped Zorak off on base and then ran FUN errands- trip to the library, where we picked up "educational videos" - which the boys were not thrilled about in theory, but are currently glued to and thoroughly enjoying! Then to the Naval Air Museum. There's just nothing like a couple of hours scouring fighter jets, sonabuoys, and open trainer cockpits when you're six and four! I love time spent with the boys, doing the things they enjoy. And they've been so patient with us through all the things nobody enjoys (but which needed to be done). That was wonderful.
Tomorrow is our Friday! Yippee! Not sure what our plans are for the weekend, but it should be fun. *whisper* I've heard rumors of s-n-o-w! :-)
Anyhow, Smidge is asleep and we have to be at Bible study in about 45 minutes. Probably ought to feed the wee ones before we head out. I'll see y'all tonight!
Dy
Today, the hustle and bustle ends. It's over. We placed our bid for the house on XYZ street. It's a sealed bid situation, and we won't know the outcome until next Thursday or Friday. So.
On to other things!
Zorak has to fly tonight. He sounded heartbroken on the phone- not only does he get overtime and get to play with a great helicopter, but he won't be able to make it to the Bible study he'd signed us up for, either. Of course, that kind of heartbreak was nothing compared to the groan of utter despair he let out when I told him it would be ok if he missed the first one. *hee hee*
We had a great afternoon! We dropped Zorak off on base and then ran FUN errands- trip to the library, where we picked up "educational videos" - which the boys were not thrilled about in theory, but are currently glued to and thoroughly enjoying! Then to the Naval Air Museum. There's just nothing like a couple of hours scouring fighter jets, sonabuoys, and open trainer cockpits when you're six and four! I love time spent with the boys, doing the things they enjoy. And they've been so patient with us through all the things nobody enjoys (but which needed to be done). That was wonderful.
Tomorrow is our Friday! Yippee! Not sure what our plans are for the weekend, but it should be fun. *whisper* I've heard rumors of s-n-o-w! :-)
Anyhow, Smidge is asleep and we have to be at Bible study in about 45 minutes. Probably ought to feed the wee ones before we head out. I'll see y'all tonight!
Dy
Tuesday, February 22
Whoa, what's up with Blogger?
Commenting has become an entire computer-time activity all its own! I've noticed it on other blogs, and have heard from y'all that it's difficult here, too. I've also noticed the new comment format- wonder if the two are related? Weird. Anyway, for those who have the fortitude to leave comments, thanks. :-) Y'all keep me smiling with your wit and anecdotes. And if you have pretty much given up on trying to leave comments, I understand. Hopefully the problem will be addressed soon.
Dy
Dy
Monday, February 21
Beautiful things
OK, first off, I have to say that I'm not the person to invite to a Longaberger party, and I don't own a single wall sconce or silk floral arrangement (other than those hideous poinsetta things we inherited from my Mother, but as soon as James is looking the other way, they're outta here!) I just don't get a big thrill from collecting things to dust, spend money on, or clutter up my house. So, knowing that about me...
Imagine my absolute delight when I saw the beautiful journals Samantha is creating over at The Home Realm! She posted a few samples of the work she had done, and I was simply, immediately enamoured with them. They're useful and lovely. Granted, I have a deep and abiding addiction to, erm, appreciation for fine stationery and the written word. If you can combine the two in a beautiful fashion, you have my attention. Samantha has done that with her journals.
Then, if you're not all imagined out, imagine my giddiness upon receiving one from Samantha, herself! She asked me what theme I would like, and I asked for one of mountains. Specifically, mountains out west, which are quite different from the ones out east, and that is the one physical feature I miss the most.
Not long after that conversation, here is what found its way to me:
She claims she doesn't do nature scenes well, but look at these!! The images on the inside pages are light enough that I can write on the page (even in pencil) and they don't interfere, but they bring a delighted smile every time I open my journal.
Here is the cover. The writing is from Psalms and says, "God has made my feet like deer's feet, and sets me upon high places..." 
Now, if this journal looks green to you, please let me know. It looked right on my computer, but when I uploaded it to Photobucket, it morphed. The cover is a gorgeous buckskin tan with a deep forest green overlay. To do it justice, I needed morning light, but it's winter in the mid-Atlantic region and we just don't get "morning light" for photos right now.
I've been using it for my prayer journal, keeping track of requests and praises. James has confiscated it more than once, and he loves to keep it in his personal library. He fell in love with it, and asked me the day it arrived if it could be a "Mommy and James Journal". I thought he meant for me to write about us in it, but no, he wanted to be able to write in it, too. "It's beautiful," he whispered, as he traced the designs.
Ah, well now, I can't argue with that kind of logic, can I?
If you are looking for a nice gift for the writer on your list, or for the fine paper products addict you know and love, please contact Samantha about getting one of these. They would make a lovely stand-alone gift (with a personal inscription on the inside front cover), or would be the ultimate foundation to a writing basket or gift bag.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sunday, February 20
What You Can Accomplish
No, still no deep blogging. I tried to blog two and a half hours ago, but something had gone horribly awry with my ISP, I think, and the computer refused to believe it was online.
SO, I quit procrastinating (which, incidentally, was not on this year's list of goals) and cleaned the computer desk. I don't mean I dusted and tidied. I mean I dumped every single drawer. Zorak took the big, nasty one out back and shook it out. We sorted, filed and flung. Every piece of paper, every stray CD-ROM, every lurking paper clip- all are home and happy now. The desk is happy now. I had no idea I had a package of blank note cards! WooHoo!
Really, you should never give a room a cleaning, because if you do, then you will find things that belong elsewhere. And when you put those things away, you will find that their homes need a cleaning, too. And that will lead to rediscovering the paper shredder, which will cause you to keep looking for things to shred. And once you've shredded all the incriminating documents, you'll feel ready to run for office. And you'll decide you need to be on the school board, because after all, it's your Village, too. And when you decide to run for office, the papers will want to interview you. So you'll have to give at least one room a good cleaning.
Yes, I do not recommend that you ever give a room a cleaning.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
SO, I quit procrastinating (which, incidentally, was not on this year's list of goals) and cleaned the computer desk. I don't mean I dusted and tidied. I mean I dumped every single drawer. Zorak took the big, nasty one out back and shook it out. We sorted, filed and flung. Every piece of paper, every stray CD-ROM, every lurking paper clip- all are home and happy now. The desk is happy now. I had no idea I had a package of blank note cards! WooHoo!
Really, you should never give a room a cleaning, because if you do, then you will find things that belong elsewhere. And when you put those things away, you will find that their homes need a cleaning, too. And that will lead to rediscovering the paper shredder, which will cause you to keep looking for things to shred. And once you've shredded all the incriminating documents, you'll feel ready to run for office. And you'll decide you need to be on the school board, because after all, it's your Village, too. And when you decide to run for office, the papers will want to interview you. So you'll have to give at least one room a good cleaning.
Yes, I do not recommend that you ever give a room a cleaning.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Realtor Rant 2/19- A Breakthrough?
We met with the realtor yesterday morning. She'd found the info on the XYZ house, and we were quite excited.
The alternator on the Suburban gave up as we topped out the Big Scary-Ass Bridge. (We knew it was coming, but were hoping to ignore it until payday.) So when we met with her, we explained that we were running only on battery power and would not be able to view all three homes she had lined up for us to see.
Her: (biting her lower lip and furrowing her brow) Hmmm... Welllll, hmmmm, let's see.
I braced myself.
Zorak started to chuckle.
I slapped his knee.
He slapped my knee.
We engaged in a silly knee-slapping war while she sat there, contemplating.
Her: (perking up visibly) OK, well, if we can only see two, *exhale* then we need to see the best two on the list.
Can you see it all from where you're sitting? It's not in slow-motion, but in full-out 1980's John Cusack self-deprication mode...
*bang, bang, bang*, my head against the dashboard.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Oh, the HUMANITY!!!
There, feel better? That's what I did- in my head. But on the outside, I turned to Zorak for moral support, for him to take the lead.
He ignored me and pretended to tap the gauges, still chuckling. (He saw that coming, didn't he?)
ONCE MORE, from the top. Everybody, on the count of three, say it with me!
the. one. we. requested. is. the. one. for. us. to. see.
First.
If necessary, it is the only one for us to see.
But do not, I repeat, DO NOT leave it off the list in favor of smaller, re-carpeted, more expensive boxes on the list.
She sighed. She grimaced. She compared the three printouts and grimaced some more. (I'm starting to think this is physically hurting her.) She acquiesced.
(Boy, was I ever glad, as we didn't have the juice left in the Suburban for my next plan of attack: chase her all over the County, screaming out the windows, "We want a shack! We want a shack!")
So, we looked at it.
It's infested with mice- they've eaten the bottom two inches off the cabinets.
Window seals are broken so the view, as seen through them, is a hazy dew-coated mirage.
The carpet looks like gypsies camped there over the winter.
One of the skylights leaks ferociously and seems to be fostering the always-fun-and-educational Chia-Roof Ceiling concept. (Zorak assures me there is a huge difference between a Chia Roof and a Chia Ceiling- this house has the latter.)
Something very bad took place in the living room. As long as the police have been notified, I'm good with that.
The list goes on.
Except for being a little far from Zorak's work (which is so not an issue at this point!) it is, in a word, perfect!
Now, though, the key is to figure out how much Dude*, and others of his persuasion, are going to bid for it. We are hoping to find that sweet spot: below full-market fixed-up value, but more than it'd be worth for Dude to dump into it and hope to get a profit after he fixes it up. Anybody want to take a stab at the profit margin for something like this? We're open for suggestions!
After the first hour of us poking around the house and taking notes, the clouds parted and the angels sang. Our realtor actually said, "Yeah, you know, this wouldn't be bad." She stopped trying to usher us out the door to the next box. She quit trying to play down the ugliness (and beauty) of the structure's condition. For the first time, she seemed to be able to look at this house through our eyes and see what we've been trying to explain. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I'd give two thousand words for one good walk-through. I don't think she'll be trying to show us any more 900 square foot trailers in the "200K and up range" anymore.
HALLELUJAH!
So, yeah, that's it for now. Will have an update on Tuesday about a few things. Kinda nervous. Kinda happy. Quite thrilled to know we won't have to sell this realtor to the gypsies. It's all good.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
*Dude*- pet name for the rude guy who walked in on the showing, wearing the orange down vest and $300 work boots with the toothpick protruding from the corner of his mouth, an "investor," who supposedly has an "in" with another realtor and knows the lingo, but didn't bother to admit to a breech of ettiquette until after he'd seen the entire structure. May his level leak and his angles be off by just enough to not be able to fudge them anymore.
The alternator on the Suburban gave up as we topped out the Big Scary-Ass Bridge. (We knew it was coming, but were hoping to ignore it until payday.) So when we met with her, we explained that we were running only on battery power and would not be able to view all three homes she had lined up for us to see.
Her: (biting her lower lip and furrowing her brow) Hmmm... Welllll, hmmmm, let's see.
I braced myself.
Zorak started to chuckle.
I slapped his knee.
He slapped my knee.
We engaged in a silly knee-slapping war while she sat there, contemplating.
Her: (perking up visibly) OK, well, if we can only see two, *exhale* then we need to see the best two on the list.
Can you see it all from where you're sitting? It's not in slow-motion, but in full-out 1980's John Cusack self-deprication mode...
*bang, bang, bang*, my head against the dashboard.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Oh, the HUMANITY!!!
There, feel better? That's what I did- in my head. But on the outside, I turned to Zorak for moral support, for him to take the lead.
He ignored me and pretended to tap the gauges, still chuckling. (He saw that coming, didn't he?)
ONCE MORE, from the top. Everybody, on the count of three, say it with me!
the. one. we. requested. is. the. one. for. us. to. see.
First.
If necessary, it is the only one for us to see.
But do not, I repeat, DO NOT leave it off the list in favor of smaller, re-carpeted, more expensive boxes on the list.
She sighed. She grimaced. She compared the three printouts and grimaced some more. (I'm starting to think this is physically hurting her.) She acquiesced.
(Boy, was I ever glad, as we didn't have the juice left in the Suburban for my next plan of attack: chase her all over the County, screaming out the windows, "We want a shack! We want a shack!")
So, we looked at it.
It's infested with mice- they've eaten the bottom two inches off the cabinets.
Window seals are broken so the view, as seen through them, is a hazy dew-coated mirage.
The carpet looks like gypsies camped there over the winter.
One of the skylights leaks ferociously and seems to be fostering the always-fun-and-educational Chia-
Something very bad took place in the living room. As long as the police have been notified, I'm good with that.
The list goes on.
Except for being a little far from Zorak's work (which is so not an issue at this point!) it is, in a word, perfect!
Now, though, the key is to figure out how much Dude*, and others of his persuasion, are going to bid for it. We are hoping to find that sweet spot: below full-market fixed-up value, but more than it'd be worth for Dude to dump into it and hope to get a profit after he fixes it up. Anybody want to take a stab at the profit margin for something like this? We're open for suggestions!
After the first hour of us poking around the house and taking notes, the clouds parted and the angels sang. Our realtor actually said, "Yeah, you know, this wouldn't be bad." She stopped trying to usher us out the door to the next box. She quit trying to play down the ugliness (and beauty) of the structure's condition. For the first time, she seemed to be able to look at this house through our eyes and see what we've been trying to explain. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I'd give two thousand words for one good walk-through. I don't think she'll be trying to show us any more 900 square foot trailers in the "200K and up range" anymore.
HALLELUJAH!
So, yeah, that's it for now. Will have an update on Tuesday about a few things. Kinda nervous. Kinda happy. Quite thrilled to know we won't have to sell this realtor to the gypsies. It's all good.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
*Dude*- pet name for the rude guy who walked in on the showing, wearing the orange down vest and $300 work boots with the toothpick protruding from the corner of his mouth, an "investor," who supposedly has an "in" with another realtor and knows the lingo, but didn't bother to admit to a breech of ettiquette until after he'd seen the entire structure. May his level leak and his angles be off by just enough to not be able to fudge them anymore.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)