Hanging On

I've got one cat at my feet and another one sitting on my leg. I'm starting to feel a little bit weird... it's like I sit down and they all start to gather. For the sake of my reputation, we will not be getting another cat.

I typically like Mondays, but I gotta say this one was no good. Yesterday went downhill after church and today was spent recovering emotionally. Yeah. It was that bad. Some days are just lousy.

Now we sit here watching some Japanese game show. Monday night entertainment at its finest. I would prefer something chocolate to add to the mix, but settled for marshmallow cereal instead.

The youngest cooked supper (very good).
The middle is playing guitar (not bad).
And the oldest is washing his truck (in the dark).

Meanwhile, the husband and I are just trying to hang on. Remember I said a month or so ago that September would be an interesting month? Well, things are shaping up for that to be the case.

You all pray for our job situation, would ya?

I really, really like our house. =)

Junk Yard Bonding

What makes a seventeen-year old boy happy? Well, besides his girlfriend or computer games or having gas money to cruise around on... but what seriously makes the boy happy? The answer is simple.

Spending time with his dad.
And spending that time at a junk yard.

You would think it was Christmas around here. The husband took the oldest to the mecca of car-fixer-uppers enthusiasts. A place where you take your own tools, pay a buck to get through the gates, and stroll row after row of perfectly organized junk cars. Three hours later they showed up both grinning ear-to-ear.

A grown man had found headlights and door handles and other replacement parts.
A young man had found a front grill and a glove box and something else I can't remember.

Now they are both perfectly content working away on their individual projects. They periodically stop what they're doing to locate missing tools and grumble about how things are never where they should be. It all reminds me of the day I sat and watched them work on a bike. It's something I never grow tired of doing.

We may never have the money for satellite tv or other extras to entertain us.
But I've got a front porch swing and two fine looking men working in front of me.

You can't beat that for a Saturday night.

Do Cat Ladies Have Fun?

Week One has come to an end and it's almost as if summer vacation never happened. We've had tired kids, hungry kids, and sometimes grumpy kids. I gotta hand it to them, though. If I were not here, they would carry on just fine. Up every day on their own and ready to go. I remember back when they were in first and second grades and I had them fixing their own school lunches. They had it down to a science: sandwich, chips, apple, and cookies (or something along those lines). I also remember teaching the oldest how to make my coffee when he was in the fourth grade. That boy could run a coffee pot! His coffee duties went by the wayside when I bought a machine with a fancy grinder and nowadays with my Keurig, well... even the cat could probably be trained to push the flashing blue button. Anyway, I never cease to be amazed by them all.

I remember times when they were younger and how tired I was all the time. Bath times, the brushing of the teeth, and the elusive art of keep one kid in particular in bed practically wore me out. When I think of how many times that child got up and down, up and down: I need a drink, Mom. I gotta go to the bathroom, Mom. I might be sick, Mom. Oh my, there were nights I thought I might lose my mind! And before that we suffered through those hard times known as colic (one kid) and chicken pox (two kids) and middle-of-the-night bad dreams (all three kids). Nothing unusual, I know, but I think every mom thinks she is the one that will literally crack before the first child ever heads off to kindergarten. Sleep becomes a sacred event.

We've had cystic fibrosis scares and talk of brain tumors and the reality of alopecia areata. We've been through countless dogs, numerous stray cats, and one episode of having chickens. We're on our third set of braces (two kids), have been through one back-type brace (one kid), and have made trips to the emergency room (all three kids). We've had bunk beds and mini vans and swing sets.

After this year it will be two kids in high school and one in college. One kid is preparing to move out while another anticipates having his own room for the very first time. Of course, we wiser people understand that those two who have been inseparable will have a hard time being separated. Already best friends and they don't quite realize it yet. Yes, indeed, it is quite the pleasure watching these kids grow.

And now here I sit with two sleeping cats on either side of me.
It's a good thing my kids are doing well.
I may be the one having issues in a few years.

Don't Shoot The Messenger

Seventeen Magazine. This magazine is mostly for young girls and women from the ages of 12–19 (and I know Wikipedia is not an academic source, but for the purposes of this humble blog, just go with it). My girl recently bought her own copy and my motherly antenna immediate went on high alert. I know, I know... I read Seventeen as a young teenager, but the tables have turned.

A). I'm the mother now.
B). Things ain't what they use to be.

Consider the hot topic in the current issue: Mind-Blowing Makeouts.
And the eye-catching line on their website: Looking to have your best hookup ever?

I'm telling you people, the details (and the keyword here is details) given make a grown woman blush. So I spent a little quality time with my little beauty-in-the-making. I asked to look at her magazine and she immediately gave me the look. "I know what you're looking for, Mom," she said. "I already ripped those pages out."

And she had.
We talked about all that.
But we also talked about make-up and nail polish and shoes.

Girls need to be girls.
And not get how-to advice on hooking up from a magazine.
Just my thoughts on a late Wednesday night.

Digging Through Pictures

I have spent the better part of the morning searching for a picture I know I have, but for the life of me cannot find. I've dug through two boxes of pictures and searched several photo albums. No luck. I know it's there somewhere. What mom does not take a picture of her firstborn on the first day of kindergarten? I know I did. I can practically see the boy's shirt, his backpack, and the exact location I made him stand to snap the pic. Good grief. These things are important, you know. I've got to have that picture to go along with his first day of his senior year picture. I think I have discovered my new obsession for the rest of the week. That and a new resolution to get some scrapbooking done. Anyway, through my archaeological dig in the cedar chest, I did uncover a few treasures. I'd say they're worth passing on.

This one features Laura Ingalls Wilder on the left and my daughter on the right. She (my girl) is standing in the same location Laura is at her home in Mansfield, Missouri. Behind her is a spring and through information I found detailing Laura's pic, I was able to position my girl in the same spot (I do things like that). The dress, apron, and bonnet (off the back of her neck) was made by my grandma. She had quite a few dresses like that, all still saved, waiting to someday be made into a quilt. One story my girl likes to tell is that before I would take her to Laura's house, she had to read all her books. I'm thinking this is around the third grade (she'll correct me if I'm wrong).

And if you're a Laura Ingalls fan, I highly recommend this biography that was recommended to me many years ago. Don't trust the show, people. Read the book.

Here's one of my boys when they were little baking... something. Today their specialties include muffins, grilled cheese, ramen noodles, and easy mac via the microwave.

Hey, how's this for random?
See kids... I'm an equal opportunity humiliator.
Me, in the fifth grade.

This one is my grandma doing one of the many things she loved best. Along with going to church, fishing, gardening, and sewing, she loved to work outside. We still joke about how it was smart not to let her walk outside with a lighter in her hand. Her solution to clearing away anything was to set it on fire. One of our favorite memories is my husband following her around with a garden hose as she used a rake and burning leaves to "help" him clean away some brush on our ten acres. She is pictured here with our oldest.

So I didn't find the picture I was looking for, but I did find a few good memories.
Now I've got to go clean up the mess I made and in the process, keep looking.

I will find that picture.

Taking A Nap With The Cat

Ahhhh... the second day of school. The anticipation is no longer there. One kid is upset with me and another kid is just upset with the concept of morning, I think. At least I've got one who is happy. One out of three ain't bad.

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

I stopped writing this morning when I determined rather quickly I did not like the direction my thoughts were going. I was going to use that wonderful thing called the delete button, but then decided against it. After all, things are what they are.

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

I've spent the better part of the day sitting outside although I'm starting to think that it's getting time to head in to the a/c. The porch has been a nice shady spot that has served my schoolwork well, but things are starting to heat up. Combine that with the fact that even the cat is starting to look miserable in his furry coat... well, I would say he won't mind when I scoot him inside. Besides, he's laying around my feet and it no longer feels cozy. It just feels hot.

In a little over an hour I'll be heading out to pick up two of my three angels (?!) from school. The third one is enjoying his newfound driving privileges. He offered this morning to take the other two to school if I would pick them up. Just trying to help you out, Mom. Help away, Son. I waved goodbye from the front porch while still wearing my bathrobe. I knew this growing-up thing wouldn't be all that bad. I'm thinking, though, that when the realization of an empty gas tank kicks in, he'll be changing his tune. I'll enjoy it while I can.

That crazy cat. I felt him shifting around my feet and peeked over the edge of the chair. All I see is a white belly and feet sticking up and his eyes closed. I know just how he feels. When we head inside, I just might assume the same position on the living room floor. Yep. I am definitely back into my old routine: coffee, cleaning, coffee, school, coffee, lunch, nap. By the time I do get back to work my body (and mind) will probably rebel. This two-year vacation I've been on has turned me soft (okay, call it lazy if it makes you feel better).

My, oh my.

Could this be any more exciting?

Let's head inside, kitty-cat.

Mama needs a nap.



I Am A Housewife

So far this morning I have...

Watched three kids get ready for school with zero complaining.
Made a 45-minute commute one way through three separate school zones.
(That same route going home only took eight minutes... yes, I am a clock watcher).

Did a rush job on my hair and makeup to hang out with the husband.
Sat in a VA waiting room watching a bunch of older male vets watch Rachel Ray.
(And I am not lying when I say all heads perked up at the sound of bra advice).

Took up space at our local downtown Waffle House.
Listened to waitresses gripe about their customers and government vouchers.
(Who were complaining that $675 in government monthly housing aid wasn't enough).

Came home to a quiet house and two wound-up cats.
Sat on the front porch swing taking in the breeze.
(And promised myself I would start cleaning the house at noon).

Twelve o'clock on the dot (okay, technically three minutes past).
Time to fire up the vacuum and scare a few cats.

I absolutely love this day.