Is it just me, or is this cat needy?
He is doing his best to nudge my arm away from the keyboard and making a very direct point by swishing his tail across my work. When all that doesn't budge me, he curls up right against my leg and occasionally looks up at me with those big green eyes. Good grief. When did I become a cat person?
The weather is fixing to change around here. Seventy-five and breezy today, but much cooler temps on the horizon for tomorrow. Maybe that's why the cat is hanging around so much. He feels the change in the air.
It has been an odd day. I've been reading about Alexander the Great and thinking about all the time and energy that went into trying to keep the monarchy alive. I'm also reading a book called Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West (or something like that). I'm not that far into yet, but the best I can tell is that the infamous witch from Dorothy's nightmare was born green and as of yet, no one quite knows why. As crazy as it seems, it's keeping my interest and I want to know why she turned out so mean (as if being green wouldn't be enough to do it).
After school, the kids were treated to Sonic's Happy Hour and we sat and watched a woman evidently dig and search and dig some more for change to pay her bill. This was a long event, mind you. Long enough that we had practically polished off our drinks and were waiting to see what would happen. The middle offered to take her over some dollars, but I had nothing (and I mean nothing) in my purse other than a debit card. The car hop finally seemed satisfied and left only to have the manager-looking person run out as the woman was putting her car in reverse. "This is not a valid dollar bill," she was saying. I thought it was time for us to leave. You never know what might happen around this place.
Like stupidity. People are going nuts around here. Black Friday had the Marine Corp chasing a thief out of the local Best Buy only to have one of them get stabbed. Apparently the Marines were collecting toys when the bandit made his escape. The wounded soldier is all right, but... wow... that is all I can say. Now they have security posted outside all the stores in that area. Makes for some fun holiday shopping (which is why I don't get out much, at least on that side of the river). Oh, for the days of walking to the post office and to Grandma's house.
I know at this point my parents are reading this and thinking, "What is that girl doing out there?" Tell me about it. So sorry you have to read the good, the bad, and the ugly with all this. As Dad would say, "Keep your head up." And like I keep saying, "You never know when things might change." It could be today.
Change is definitely in the air. The breeze suddenly has a chill to it. The cat is no longer my friend. He snuck off the porch and then came running when I said his name. Now he is inside glaring at me through the front door.
Maybe I'm not a cat person after all.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
The Lesson of the Stump
There once was a tree stump. It didn't look like much from the top. Just another old tree stump to mow around. No big deal.
There once was a boy. A boy who figured he could just forget about grades for a while. A boy who thought, "What's the big deal?"
And then there was a dad. A dad who thought that, indeed, grades are a very big deal. And he was tired of mowing around that stump.
Day One: The lesson on manual labor begins. No picture is available, however, due to the fact that it was dark and the only light provided for the boy was that of a flashlight suspended from a tree branch.
Day Two: The digging and chopping continues. No pictures are available due to the fact that this was a lesson that would not be easily learned. We don't take pictures of the struggling.
Day Three: The digging and chopping continues and the hole gets deeper. Again, pictures are not snapped due to the fragile emotions that coincide with the work. Feelings are hurt as the break times are regulated.
Day Four: Thanksgiving. The boy is thankful for his turkey and day of rest.
Day Five: It rains. All is not lost, though, as the dad makes use of the covered porch to sharpen the axe.
Day Six: The digging and chopping continues and the hole gets deeper and deeper. Today the digging resumed voluntarily. There seems to be a determination that this task can be accomplished. Today I took a picture.
And another one. And yes, the dad has reminded the boy more than once how lucky he is to be digging in sand.
Day Seven: Today would be the day. There was not any digging left to do and the swinging of the axe was limited. As the stump was lifted out (and it took two people to lift it), we stood back to admire the hole. The youngest was the first to notice the shape. "It looks like a heart," she said.
Indeed, it does. "A father's love for his son," I told the boy.
What's the moral of the story? A boy who thought grades weren't a big deal and then when faced with the punishment of the stump, thought it would be no big deal either. A boy who would rather read and draw quickly learned, however, that the stump would be a big deal. After a few hours of digging in the dark, he began to realize that maybe grades were a big deal after all, too. His dad asked him if he now understood why a good education was important.
The boy replied, "Yes. So I can pay somebody else to dig up my stumps."
Lesson learned (and his picture proudly used by his permission).
There once was a boy. A boy who figured he could just forget about grades for a while. A boy who thought, "What's the big deal?"
And then there was a dad. A dad who thought that, indeed, grades are a very big deal. And he was tired of mowing around that stump.
Day One: The lesson on manual labor begins. No picture is available, however, due to the fact that it was dark and the only light provided for the boy was that of a flashlight suspended from a tree branch.
Day Two: The digging and chopping continues. No pictures are available due to the fact that this was a lesson that would not be easily learned. We don't take pictures of the struggling.
Day Three: The digging and chopping continues and the hole gets deeper. Again, pictures are not snapped due to the fragile emotions that coincide with the work. Feelings are hurt as the break times are regulated.
Day Four: Thanksgiving. The boy is thankful for his turkey and day of rest.
Day Five: It rains. All is not lost, though, as the dad makes use of the covered porch to sharpen the axe.
Day Six: The digging and chopping continues and the hole gets deeper and deeper. Today the digging resumed voluntarily. There seems to be a determination that this task can be accomplished. Today I took a picture.
And another one. And yes, the dad has reminded the boy more than once how lucky he is to be digging in sand.
Day Seven: Today would be the day. There was not any digging left to do and the swinging of the axe was limited. As the stump was lifted out (and it took two people to lift it), we stood back to admire the hole. The youngest was the first to notice the shape. "It looks like a heart," she said.
Indeed, it does. "A father's love for his son," I told the boy.
What's the moral of the story? A boy who thought grades weren't a big deal and then when faced with the punishment of the stump, thought it would be no big deal either. A boy who would rather read and draw quickly learned, however, that the stump would be a big deal. After a few hours of digging in the dark, he began to realize that maybe grades were a big deal after all, too. His dad asked him if he now understood why a good education was important.
The boy replied, "Yes. So I can pay somebody else to dig up my stumps."
Lesson learned (and his picture proudly used by his permission).
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Post Holiday Blues
I haven't driven my van since I picked the kids up after school on Tuesday. A quick stop at a little shop for a Christmas gift or two and a run into Walmart for milk and cereal reminded me why... I am in no mood to dodge people cramming into too crowded aisles for assorted holiday goodies.
Thanksgiving Day I did so well. Smiled the whole way through even up to the time I went to bed. It really was a good day. The next morning just went downhill, though, and I haven't been able to kick it since.
I could blame it on that joke of a group my husband calls a family (Grandma excluded). She called Friday to tell him what all he had missed the day before. She means no harm by it... just talking about everything like she always does. The short of the story is he stood up to an abusive father long ago and has since been the black sheep of the family. I tell him they're like the mafia without the drugs or money. Seriously. You go against the godfather, you go against the whole family. That's how we ended up where we are now... a firstborn son trying to make amends with his dying (well, that's what we were told, but it turned out not to be true) father. We moved nine hundred miles to be with family that had no intention of being our family.
And then the housing market fell. Talk about bad timing.
I could blame my mood on the instant pressure to shop that immediately follows Thanksgiving. This time of year always brings up the how in the world are we going to do this anyway feeling. I even had a tough time decorating yesterday. Thank the Lord for my girl. I knew she was counting on it, so we had no choice but to go into action. And then the oldest took it upon himself to decorate the front porch (even when I told him we could just skip it this year). After it was all said and done, I had to admit that it just felt better to see the tree in all its glory. Something about pulling out those handmade ornaments from long ago reminded me of the family we are building now. Not to mention the fact that I realized that the number of years those same ornaments will by on my tree is severely limited... where has the time gone?
Yeah, and I miss my mom. It's that Saturday thing again.
Sometimes it stinks being the grown-up. If I could hide out in my room and not have to think about supper or laundry or breakfast for the morning, this would be the time I would do it. My mom says I'm the glue that holds the family together. Sometimes I think that glue is getting ready to crack. So much for being the grown-up.
Pretty sad, huh? How one person go from the perfect day to this is just a tad bit pathetic, in my opinion. And yet, that is where I am at. Love it or hate it, life never seems to run at the same pace. My dad was talking the other day about paths that take you off the road you should be traveling on. My path has most definitely made a detour on the woe-is-me dead end. I suppose I better turn around.
There are other things to think about: a girl in a school play, a son turning seventeen, a boy and his stump (now that will be a great story!). We have a new baby to shop for this year and a much anticipated trip home just around the corner. And, since I'm looking on the brighter side of things, if my clothes are always feeling like they have shrunk in the dyer, well... I guess that's a pretty good reason to go shopping for myself. There are worse things in life.
At least my family likes me.
Thanksgiving Day I did so well. Smiled the whole way through even up to the time I went to bed. It really was a good day. The next morning just went downhill, though, and I haven't been able to kick it since.
I could blame it on that joke of a group my husband calls a family (Grandma excluded). She called Friday to tell him what all he had missed the day before. She means no harm by it... just talking about everything like she always does. The short of the story is he stood up to an abusive father long ago and has since been the black sheep of the family. I tell him they're like the mafia without the drugs or money. Seriously. You go against the godfather, you go against the whole family. That's how we ended up where we are now... a firstborn son trying to make amends with his dying (well, that's what we were told, but it turned out not to be true) father. We moved nine hundred miles to be with family that had no intention of being our family.
And then the housing market fell. Talk about bad timing.
I could blame my mood on the instant pressure to shop that immediately follows Thanksgiving. This time of year always brings up the how in the world are we going to do this anyway feeling. I even had a tough time decorating yesterday. Thank the Lord for my girl. I knew she was counting on it, so we had no choice but to go into action. And then the oldest took it upon himself to decorate the front porch (even when I told him we could just skip it this year). After it was all said and done, I had to admit that it just felt better to see the tree in all its glory. Something about pulling out those handmade ornaments from long ago reminded me of the family we are building now. Not to mention the fact that I realized that the number of years those same ornaments will by on my tree is severely limited... where has the time gone?
Yeah, and I miss my mom. It's that Saturday thing again.
Sometimes it stinks being the grown-up. If I could hide out in my room and not have to think about supper or laundry or breakfast for the morning, this would be the time I would do it. My mom says I'm the glue that holds the family together. Sometimes I think that glue is getting ready to crack. So much for being the grown-up.
Pretty sad, huh? How one person go from the perfect day to this is just a tad bit pathetic, in my opinion. And yet, that is where I am at. Love it or hate it, life never seems to run at the same pace. My dad was talking the other day about paths that take you off the road you should be traveling on. My path has most definitely made a detour on the woe-is-me dead end. I suppose I better turn around.
There are other things to think about: a girl in a school play, a son turning seventeen, a boy and his stump (now that will be a great story!). We have a new baby to shop for this year and a much anticipated trip home just around the corner. And, since I'm looking on the brighter side of things, if my clothes are always feeling like they have shrunk in the dyer, well... I guess that's a pretty good reason to go shopping for myself. There are worse things in life.
At least my family likes me.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
A Perfect Ending
Well, I wore my mom's turkey apron today while I cooked my turkey. Just as expected, the husband loved the meal and raved about the mashed potatoes. I had the experience of having my daughter in the kitchen with me today which I loved and the meal was just about next to perfect, but that wasn't the best part of the day.
As expected, I made everyone do the What I Am Thankful For and then much to the middle's dismay, forced everyone outside after the meal for a little family football. We had fun (though at least one child would protest that fact), but that wasn't the best part either.
After we came inside, we passed around the pumpkin pie and red velvet cake. We watched a game (Lions vs. Patriots) and then later took a nap. A typical Thanksgiving, I suppose. We heard nothing from my husband's side of the family and everything from mine, just as expected.
What was unexpected was the ending to the day. One thing you will never hear me complain about is the weather here. Absolutely beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that a fire outside seemed the perfect way to end the night, so that's what we did. Just me and the husband and the firstborn (because the other two would rather be inside).
We talked about our first date, our first year, and our first holidays. We looked at the stars, complained about the neighbors, and listened to sirens in the distance. We listened as our oldest talked about his friends and his thoughts on life. At one point the middle and the youngest joined us and as the fire died down, we headed inside.
Now we are surrounded by homemade pizza and promises of a Uno throwdown. The cat is stretched across my feet and visions of Christmas decorating (tomorrow!) lurk in the back of my mind. For now, though, it really is the perfect ending.
Not bad for a Thanksgiving entirely on our own.
As expected, I made everyone do the What I Am Thankful For and then much to the middle's dismay, forced everyone outside after the meal for a little family football. We had fun (though at least one child would protest that fact), but that wasn't the best part either.
After we came inside, we passed around the pumpkin pie and red velvet cake. We watched a game (Lions vs. Patriots) and then later took a nap. A typical Thanksgiving, I suppose. We heard nothing from my husband's side of the family and everything from mine, just as expected.
What was unexpected was the ending to the day. One thing you will never hear me complain about is the weather here. Absolutely beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that a fire outside seemed the perfect way to end the night, so that's what we did. Just me and the husband and the firstborn (because the other two would rather be inside).
We talked about our first date, our first year, and our first holidays. We looked at the stars, complained about the neighbors, and listened to sirens in the distance. We listened as our oldest talked about his friends and his thoughts on life. At one point the middle and the youngest joined us and as the fire died down, we headed inside.
Now we are surrounded by homemade pizza and promises of a Uno throwdown. The cat is stretched across my feet and visions of Christmas decorating (tomorrow!) lurk in the back of my mind. For now, though, it really is the perfect ending.
Not bad for a Thanksgiving entirely on our own.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Pie In A Box
Twas the night before Thanksgiving and all through the house
The cat was sleeping on his little play mouse.
The kitchen was clean awaiting the mess
That would definitely be more before it was less.
Ahhh. Thanksgiving. The turkey is thawed; the pumpkin pie is in the freezer. The potatoes are ready to be peeled and boiled; the gravy is on stand-by in a jar. I like to mix my thanksgiving dinners up between the homemade and the ready-to-go. That's why I let Mrs. Smith bake the pie and pull the gravy from the cabinet.
The youngest asked me at supper what I did for Thanksgiving when I was a kid. "Went to Grandma's or Aunt Patty's, I suppose." The table got quiet.
I guess we were all thinking of Grandma's house. I thought of her today when I fixed up a card to send to my niece. One time Grandma sent me a sympathy card for my birthday. She had scratched out the sympathy part and wrote in birthday and laughed about it later. Her theory? Why buy a new card when you can make what you have work?
Or maybe we were thinking of Aunt Patty. You want a home where everybody is made to feel special? Go to Aunt Patty's. She never does anything halfway no matter if the meal is a holiday dinner or just burgers on the grill. And if the dessert she has planned is ice cream? It's a guarantee that every topping imaginable will be there.
I guess we are all trying not to think about the fact it will just be us tomorrow. I have to admit it gets kinda difficult (and annoying even to me) to act all cheerful like it's no big deal. It is a big deal, though, and we all know it. Blame it on Grandma and Aunt Patty. We just love those big family holiday dinners. Here, we have supper around the table every day. It's no big deal to sit down with the same five people you look at every night.. even if you dress it up with Grandma's china.
We will sit down together, though, and we will use the good china. Daddy will go on about how good everything is and I'll make everybody do the "What I Am Thankful For" speech. Afterward the kids will scatter and I'll sing along to Bryan Adams while I wash dishes. I'll talk to my parents across the miles and we'll eat leftovers for supper. Just another holiday dinner on our own.
And yet another reminder to be thankful. We may be a family of five who sits around the same table every night looking at each other, but we're still a family of five sitting at the table (if that makes any sense). My dad reminded me on the phone just this morning to enjoy every moment of those kids while they are here. I'm thinking he knows what he's talking about.
So you can bet I'll be up early in the morning with a big smile on my face forcing everyone to be happy. It's a holiday for crying out loud! I'll take the pie out of the box and microwave my jar of gravy. Somewhere in the midst of it all, the forced smiles will fade and real ones will appear. We are a family, after all, and we are together. That's five reasons enough to be thankful.
Happy Thanksgiving to all, and to all a good night!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Give That Kid A Doughnut
If my life were a book, my children would not follow me to every room to which I go. At least I don't think that they would. If my life were a book, I would have a room dedicated to me complete with a lock on the door.
Wait. I have that. It's called my bedroom. The problem is that if I went in my room I would get tired and think only of sleep. I'm tired enough as it is. That's why I'm in the dining room.
But we've been here before. And we know what happens when I sit down at the table surrounded by papers and a laptop. Instant I want time with my mom and I want it now! It's all making my head hurt.
I should be thankful. This is the season for thankfulness and family and turkey. I've got the family. I've got the turkey. I just need to find the thankfulness.
And I am thankful. I'm thankful for kids that just want my opinion on something. I'm thankful for kids who evidently like to be around me most of the time. And I'm thankful for the kid who hovers around me like he has some life changing question only to ask,
"Can I have a doughnut?"
A doughnut? Seriously? Oh, if only all of life's problems could be solved by a Krispy Kreme doughnut. We would all be thankful whether it was Turkey Day or not.
"Yes. Please. Have a doughnut... and leave me alone till morning."
Wait. I have that. It's called my bedroom. The problem is that if I went in my room I would get tired and think only of sleep. I'm tired enough as it is. That's why I'm in the dining room.
But we've been here before. And we know what happens when I sit down at the table surrounded by papers and a laptop. Instant I want time with my mom and I want it now! It's all making my head hurt.
I should be thankful. This is the season for thankfulness and family and turkey. I've got the family. I've got the turkey. I just need to find the thankfulness.
And I am thankful. I'm thankful for kids that just want my opinion on something. I'm thankful for kids who evidently like to be around me most of the time. And I'm thankful for the kid who hovers around me like he has some life changing question only to ask,
"Can I have a doughnut?"
A doughnut? Seriously? Oh, if only all of life's problems could be solved by a Krispy Kreme doughnut. We would all be thankful whether it was Turkey Day or not.
"Yes. Please. Have a doughnut... and leave me alone till morning."
Monday, November 22, 2010
Just Give Me An *A* And Call It Good
Oprah has her favorite things. Martha has her good things. May I present my list of Things I Would Rather Not Deal With Right Now:
1. Progress Report
2. Sensitive Teeth
3. Progress Report
4. Phone Bill
5. Progress Report
I guess you can see where this is going. Progress Report Day is rarely a joyous occasion around here and it just barely beats the Actual Report Card Day. One thing about me... I'll never beat you over the head with my A+ student (although I do have one. Just so you know). No, around here, anything that has to do with a check-out-how-your-kid-is-doing thing can either go one way or another. Sometimes it's a sigh of relief and sometimes it's a painful experience. Whatever the reaction, it always has a way of making me appreciate summer just a little bit more.
I hated grades as a kid. I hated grading as a teacher. Nothing compares, though, to how much I hate grades as a parent. The whole grading thing is overrated. And yet so needed. It's just a part of life, kid. Do your stuff, get over it, and move on.
And since when did I develop sensitive teeth anyway? I'll tell you when... when I started going to the dentist on a regular basis, that's when. Before that (all those years before that), I had no complaints. Seriously, none. Now it seems that everytime I go for a check up they find another reason for me to come back. And now my teeth hurt. Just on the sides, just in the back, but they hurt. The only solace I have is that hot stuff like coffee doesn't bother me; only cold things like ice in my tea. The dentist said I was brushing too hard. I said he scared me with all of his dire warnings. Dumb dental insurance.
My husband just interrupted my tooth issues by asking me if I remember what it was like to be a teenager. "Barely," I say. "Well, I remember it pretty well, " he replies. That's all that is said. We look at each other, look at one kid's backpack on the table, and sigh heavily. This too shall pass. Darn progress report day.
And then there's the phone bill. Yeah... not even gonna think about that now. I changed my plan today anyway to allow for all those pictures I've been receiving of a certain baby girl. At least that's one thing I can change.
We take what we can get. No grading required.
1. Progress Report
2. Sensitive Teeth
3. Progress Report
4. Phone Bill
5. Progress Report
I guess you can see where this is going. Progress Report Day is rarely a joyous occasion around here and it just barely beats the Actual Report Card Day. One thing about me... I'll never beat you over the head with my A+ student (although I do have one. Just so you know). No, around here, anything that has to do with a check-out-how-your-kid-is-doing thing can either go one way or another. Sometimes it's a sigh of relief and sometimes it's a painful experience. Whatever the reaction, it always has a way of making me appreciate summer just a little bit more.
I hated grades as a kid. I hated grading as a teacher. Nothing compares, though, to how much I hate grades as a parent. The whole grading thing is overrated. And yet so needed. It's just a part of life, kid. Do your stuff, get over it, and move on.
And since when did I develop sensitive teeth anyway? I'll tell you when... when I started going to the dentist on a regular basis, that's when. Before that (all those years before that), I had no complaints. Seriously, none. Now it seems that everytime I go for a check up they find another reason for me to come back. And now my teeth hurt. Just on the sides, just in the back, but they hurt. The only solace I have is that hot stuff like coffee doesn't bother me; only cold things like ice in my tea. The dentist said I was brushing too hard. I said he scared me with all of his dire warnings. Dumb dental insurance.
My husband just interrupted my tooth issues by asking me if I remember what it was like to be a teenager. "Barely," I say. "Well, I remember it pretty well, " he replies. That's all that is said. We look at each other, look at one kid's backpack on the table, and sigh heavily. This too shall pass. Darn progress report day.
And then there's the phone bill. Yeah... not even gonna think about that now. I changed my plan today anyway to allow for all those pictures I've been receiving of a certain baby girl. At least that's one thing I can change.
We take what we can get. No grading required.
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