My Husband Has Purpose...

and I'm a little scared.

He's decorating for Christmas. You have to understand the severity of this situation. He's never done this before. Now don't get me wrong; he's all for the holiday season. He loves the cookies and fudge and chocolate-covered cherries that typically accompany this time of year. He loves shopping for me and the kids and will even take us for the mandatory drive-around-the-neighborhood-tour of Christmas lights.

The thing is he usually never gets involved with the decorating of the home. That job usually falls to me and the kids and the be brutally honest... just me (and in my lovely daughter's defense before she protests loudly, she decorates her own room, thank you very much). I'm always the one to want to put lights outside and even though I have often asked the man of the house for help, it ends up being just me and the oldest. Decorating is just not the husband's thing. He's got better things to do than to hang tinsel and fight with lights.

Not this year. He is a man on a mission and our house may end up being the next Griswold (think National Lampoon's Christmas movie). We've got blue icicle lights, white icicle lights, blue single strand lights, green garland, a full size tree complete with lights and decorations, a radio playing Christmas music, stockings that are hung, and plans for Mr. and Mrs. Claus chilling in a couple of rocking chairs. AND THIS IS JUST THE FRONT PORCH.

Lord have mercy.
He's not stopping there.

Plans are in the works for a Baby Jesus in a manger with a cross behind Him sitting by the driveway. Next to this he plans to install a sign that reads something like "Dear Mr. President, We Are Still A Christian Nation." He wants a star hanging high in a tree and a river of blinking lights in our (now dry) fountain. He asked me today if I thought I could find pink lights, and I'm not sure why. I asked him (while we hanging lights, of course) why this year was different. He looked at me and simply said, "Nothing else is going right. I might as well go all out."

Bless his heart.
Go all out, Babe.

Just please leave the inside to me. ;)

The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow

The weather is cold in our neck of the woods today, but like the husband says... cold for us is now any temperature where we can't have the windows open. We've had a fire going most of the day to avoid running the furnace and I'm planning on soup and grilled cheese for supper tonight. It is most definitely a stay-in-kinda-weather day. I think we might pull out some Christmas decorations tonight and if the kids play their cards right, I might treat 'em with some Hershey's hot cocoa.

My three-week visit to the Midwest ended Saturday night when I arrived home to find a very upset cat, a spilled bowl of water that was mixed with litter (some used, some not), and an empty food bowl. Mr. Kitty did not seem to understand that I was not the one who left him in that predicament, but he blamed me just the same. Time heals all wounds, though, and seeing as he is now spread across my feet lazily content, I would say he has forgiven me. Moody cat.

Our job search continues. I am putting in for some substitute work and the husband is drifting back toward law enforcement positions. Between the two of us, we have applied for five jobs in the last 24 hours. Things can get kind of snippy when you have two people who are tired of filling out the same information over and over again. Yesterday was the 19th anniversary of our first date, but I don't think either one of us really cared. We'll celebrate when we get through this.

And get through this, we will.

Thank God for savings.
Thank God for a working fireplace.
Thank God for a happy cat.

Please Tell Me That Bathroom Is Vacant

Seven people dancing around one bathroom certainly makes for one interesting Thanksgiving week. We're all about family closeness around here. The husband and kids arrived without incident Saturday afternoon and since then we have been spending quality family time together. We've shared space on the couch watching hours of satellite television, have made multiple circles driving around town noting how not much has changed, and have pretty much shattered what was the perfect order of my parents' home. I'm glad I had those two weeks alone with them because since the arrival of my little family, I don't think I've had more than five minutes of conversation with my mom or dad. I guess things are just as they should be.

Following the wishes of the parents, the husband began ripping out carpet today in preparation for laying tile in the master bathroom. He also pulled out the tub and toilet. Tub? Not so much a problem. Toilet? Could get interesting. Today has been Day One and I have found myself already dancing a jig or two waiting for the other bathroom to flash the vacancy sign. The kids and all their hair and hair products have done a good job (thus far) of being quick in and quick out. The completion date is set for Friday with Thursday being dedicated to turkey and hopefully a pecan pie. Nothing makes me more thankful than a warm piece of pie and hot cup of coffee (although the sight of that new toilet being installed might make me cry in relief).

I miss my bed and I miss my cat, but those feelings are always mixed with what I know will follow... I hate saying goodbye. That moment when I hug my mom quick (cause we both can't stand it) and I hug my dad longer (cause we both hate to let go) are just horrible, plain and simple. It typically takes me about ten miles of crying silently while my husband pats my knee compassionately to suck it up and play the part of the big girl. It is what it is. Life goes on and God has a plan. And yes, I will continue to repeat that until Jesus comes back. I have a feeling it will take until then to fully comprehend what all this has been about.

As for now? The parents are tucked into bed with the youngest close by while the middle waits for me to vacate the room he is sleeping in. The husband and the oldest are totally engrossed in some show they will long for when we make it back to antenna television only. And me? I better hit that shower while I have the chance.

The little things we become thankful for.  =)

Mama Needs To Go Home

Does my family miss me? It's a toss-up. I know (according to the woes and complaints I have heard) that they miss my awesome cooking and laundry skills and my expertise in keeping a litter box clean and my oh-so-efficient method of getting in and out of a grocery store in record time while managing to get everyone picked up and delivered to wherever it is they need to be. But do they miss me? I tend to think not so much when late night conversations on the webcam go something like this...

Me, checking the clock: You kids better be getting ready for bed. It's after ten there and it's a school night. Two kids, giving each other a slight grin: Nah, Dad pretty much lets us stay up as long as we want.

Me, talking to the husband later: So the kids are telling me you're always outside and they stay up as late as they want to. Husband, laughing (the laugh that says "oh crap"): No. I make them shut everything down by midnight. I make them clean the house. It's okay. We're all good.

Yeah. I think it's about time for me to get home.
They are all simply getting along too well without me.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

In the blink of an eye, I had a prayer answered. In fact, it came so quick and so unexpected, it sort of caught me off guard. It's personal and all and nothing I really care to share, and yet I did have to share that part of it (if that makes any sense). Sometimes the Lord just catches me by surprise. It's as if He grabs a hold of my heart and gently taps my head with a 2x4 or something: See? I really do listen to you. My timing, girl. My timing. And believe me, He knows that if He wants to get anything done in my life, then He has to get me out of the way. I tend to step in too much. I'm kinda pushy like that.

So my visit home continues while the Lord works on my behalf.
We make a pretty good team, He and I (as long as I let Him lead).

My Daughter Misses Me =)

My girl sighed heavily as she hung up the phone. Okay, Mom. Back to laundry. The dryer just finished. Heavy, heavy sigh. Before that she had spent forty-five minutes giving me recap of the day that included everything from cheesy Highlights jokes and the supper of hamburgers to the impromptu gun lesson they all received from their dad and the vision of a mysterious image found in the trees. She's learned how to run the new washing machine and the dad has plans of a major house cleaning in the morning.


Personally, I think they're having a great time.


She tells me I've never written a blog all about her. Silly, silly girl. Let's have a quick review. There's the most recent one dedicated to her birthday; an early one all about her sweetness; and who knows how many other ones in between. Besides, my dear daughter, I could never fully capture my fondness for you in one simple blog entry. And you do have brothers, you know. A mom has to spread the love around. My life is pretty full. I really could not ask for more.


Except the job thing. Yeah, that's still there.


But this is the now, and the now is pretty good. My dad and I finally got around to that target shooting today and after he showed me up with his two bulls-eye hits, he gave me a hug that made me feel like a kid again. We visited with an aunt and uncle, ran errands around town, and just generally had a good time. Mom and I have plans for tomorrow and time is ticking away. I remember a time twenty some years ago when I couldn't wait to leave home and do things on my own. Funny how doing things on my own brought me right back here.


So to my oldest who sometimes spends his evenings reading my blog so he can ask me questions about it all later;  to my middle who most likely never reads this stuff, but to whom his brother or sister may give a report to at a later time; to my youngest who will most definitely read this to see if I mentioned her at all like I said I would... I sure do miss you. Thanks for helping your dad and doing what needs to be done. And to my husband who often says he should read this, but never gets around to it, I most definitely miss you. Thank you for giving me this time.


And that's followed by a heavy, heavy sigh from me.

Somebody Swapped My Itinerary

Since last Saturday morning, I have...

Endured two separate flights departing from two separate states that only bounced my head off the side of the plane once, felt a little shaky more than a few times due to high winds, and were blissfully baby-free (and I love babies, just not crying ones in enclosed places where I have no place to hide).

Talked to my youngest probably more than I have all year, or at least since the summer when the kids were the ones away visiting. I also just received a compliment from my husband earlier tonight that went something like, I don't know how you do this (referring to the kids and the grocery shopping and the laundry and everything else that needs to get done on any given day).

Shopped with my dad for a deer tag and a bright orange vest and how-to booklets and anything else he could think of for a much anticipated deer hunting weekend. We also bought shells (as in shot-gun) and practice targets for a little friendly competition before some unfortunate deer becomes his primary target.

Made a 911 call that same afternoon (that had nothing to do with the aforementioned friendly competition and everything to do with his uncooperative heart) and spent the next six hours sitting in a freezing cold emergency room. My mom and I have made daily trips since that day to the hospital to visit my dad. He is doing well, thanks for asking.

Passed the time in the hospital by crocheting a new scarf, eating no-so-bad cafeteria food (they even have a coffee shop!), and learning interesting stories about my dad's side of the family: Pony Express riders, links to Jesse James, and a whole series of Are you kidding me? type stuff. I have also been entertained by memories of my parent's first years together. The proposal alone could be a blog entry all on its own.

Yep, you just never know what a day or week might bring.
So far this trip has been far from boring.
I am so glad I am here.

Miss you Oldest, Middle, Youngest, HUSBAND.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
And my heart's pretty fond. =)

Off We Go Into The Wild Blue Yonder!

I hate flying. My husband finds this hilarious because I was in the Air Force. So? I tell him. Being in the Air Force has nothing to do with a love of planes. It has everything to do with your big brother telling you that's the direction you ought to go. Sheesh. I thought everybody knew that.

But fly I must if I want to get home. And home is where I want to get. My other home. The home where my mom is. And my dad, too. They're making the trek to the big city to pick me up so the least I can do is drag my fly-fearing, plane-dreading self to that airport and make my way onboard.

My bag is packed.
The cupboards are stocked.
I just wish I had a tranquilizer.

Wake me up when we get there, please.

Worth A Second Look

I was thinking today that if my step-grandpa was still living, he would have been 100 years old. November 2, 1911 ~ November 2, 2011. My husband and I reminiscenced and laughed about our memories of him and I remembered this entry I wrote a while back. Maybe you've read it before; maybe you haven't. He was a man worth knowing, though.

http://ifmylifewereabookramblings.blogspot.com/2011/01/for-gene.html

Dear Kids,

I am done.

I am walking away from the dishes and the laundry and the ever-meowing cat. You may feel neglected. You might feel abandoned. You will most likely have an array of mass-confusing thoughts.

It will be okay. Do your chores. Try to smile at one another. Tell your dad I've gone AWOL. I promise the sun will still shine tomorrow. Life has a way of moving on even when the mom is not cooking dinner.

I'm going into that dark place with the help of liquid gold in a bottle. To be honest, I don't know when you'll see or hear from me again. I'm afraid you'll just have to be patient.

And bring me chicken noodle soup around six o'clock.
Orange juice with a straw (the flexi kind) would be nice.
A homemade card with a poem might cheer me up.

Anything to make a mom feel better.
Just leave me in peace.
And save your questions for later.

Now leave me alone.

I mean,  I love you dearly.

Hugs and kisses,
Mom