Waiting by the phone

It's a miracle that I have fingernails. I bite them when I'm bored, nervous, or awake.
I really have no reason to be nervous. I know that we don't want to be where God doesn't want us. I know that if this is our house, it will be ours, and no one else's.
So why can't I turn off my brain?
I have always been the type of person that when I decide to do something, I want to start doing it yesterday. Waiting around for someone else to make decisions is really hard for me.
I.am.not.a.patient.person.people!
So I feel the need to go get some boxes and start packing things. I don't even know if our offer will be considered, much less accepted. I'm going to have to stop obsessing.
(And yes, I realize it's a holiday weekend, and I will NOT hear anything before Tuesday.)

2 Corinthians 10:5 b
and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ;

Dreaming the impossible dream

I am a bundle of nerves. I can't go to bed, much less sleep right now. Shawn and I made an offer on a house today.
I have been mentally arranging furniture, trying to figure out where to put my dishes in the cupboards, imagining.
Just imagining.
This house is so big I am not sure where to have school. Do we set up class in the bright, cheery sunroom? Or do we go with the room that's technically a formal living room? Perhaps we should use the office that is attached to the carport. Or maybe even the little building down the hill in the backyard that looks like a little school house. But there's no bathroom there, and my common-sense sister reminded me that walking to school in the rain might get old.
The kitchen is HUGE, and the old cupboards, notice I didn't say cabinets, are plentiful. The pantry is amazing, with even an outlet in it.
It was built in '76, and is right out of the era, but I love it. It smells like an old house, but in a good way.
It sits on 2.25 acres of trees in a variety of species. I noticed pecan, pine, magnolia, tulip, dogwood, and I don't know how many others. By the time we get the property cleaned up to its potential glory, It'll look like a park.
We'd be on the inside of a cove with one other house, right across the street from the neighborhood lake. I would never have to wonder where my son was. If his fishing pole was missing, I would know right where to find him. I might even have to put in a dinner bell, just so I wouldn't actually have to go get him.
When Shawn asked me what I thought, I just let my smile answer.
My cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
But I think I'll live.


Matthew 19:26
But Jesus beheld them, and said unto them, With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible.

Wordless Wednesday (play doh silliness)

Off the charts Smell-O-Meter

In the attempt to break free from renting the in-laws' house, Shawn and I have been scoping out the market. I went to see three possibilities in the same neighborhood this evening. Let's just say they were quite a variety.
I have a recurring dream in which I am walking through a house with no halls. One room leads to another and the only way to get to the next room is to go through the one I'm in. Each room is more hideously lavishly decorated than the one before, which sounds like it would be a good thing, but they have been decorated by my MIL, who is known for decorating with the bargains at Big Lots.
The first house I saw tonight was that house. There were two bedrooms that had bedrooms on the other side of them. You had to walk through one to get to the other. I couldn't believe how much that creeped me out. I spent much of the time trying to unlock the mystery of the current owner's existence, and we finally decided that it must be occupied by an older lady who lives alone.
As I was leaving, following the agent, I saw a small black car in the driveway of the next house. There were a couple of young-ish people in it. I wondered if they were the owners of the house I had just seen, and they were waiting for us to leave, so they could go back home. As I suspected, they waited until we were almost around the corner, and pulled into the driveway we'd just vacated. The agent and I continued around to the next house, when my Something Doesn't Smell Right-O-Meter went clanging in my head.
They didn't fit the house.
I suggested to the agent that something seemed off, and she went back. Sure enough, they had pulled into the driveway, backed up to the door, and were looking mighty suspicious. So the agent drove by slowly, looked the situation over, and went across the street to the fire department to call the police. By the time the police got there, they had left. Tina said they saw her checking them out, and thought they got scared. If it was me, I'd have blocked the driveway, snapped a couple of pictures of their car, then called the cops. Of course, I'd have probably been shot right in front of my kids, too.
Good thing I wasn't the one there at the time.
The second house was a foreclosure that is sitting empty. It reeks of animals, there are dead cockroaches everywhere, and it needs a LOT of work. The notes on the listing printout says it needs some TLC. The realtors remarks say it needs some touch up repairs. I think it needs a laying on of hands.
The third house was very sweet, in the "I love pink and cats" sort of way. It was also sitting empty, but it is not a foreclosure. It is nicely staged, smells nice, and is very clean. I'd call this move-in-ready, except for the need for paint. I don't love pink.
I think Shawn needs to see all three so he gets an idea of what $100,000 gets you.

Post 100! Yee Ha!

Spent the weekend hanging with the peeps. Dad was in town for a few days. He brought the rain with him. Hasn't rained in months, and we want to hang by the pool for a few days. So, of course, it would go and spoil our beautiful, beautiful plans. That's okay. We managed a few splashes between the scattered showers. It was nice to sit around and do not much with the ones you love.
We watched a few movies, caught some of the olympics, introduced Dad and the cousins to geocaching, and played some games.
Fun was had by all, including the six dogs.
Think I laughed so hard I cried while playing Clue.
We were getting bored with it, (note to self, the game is MUCH longer with six players) and Caleb was playing with the game pieces. I shouted, "Caleb, stop touching Miss Scarlett!"
Bethany and I hooted for a while. And every time we caught each other's eye, we laughed some more.
Can't wait to do it again.

Don't Forget the Pregnancy Test!

There has never been a time when I needed a pregnancy test (to determine or rule out) that I didn't head straight to pick one up. I have never gone to the store for the test and forgotten to buy it, if indeed I thought I should use one.
So forgive me if I had to ask the cashier at Walgreens why in the world would there be a pregnancy test on the shelf next to the check out where they keep the impulse buys. It wasn't placed there by someone chickening out, either. There was actually a price on the shelf.
I know that people frequently buy the things that are put there. I can't tell you how many times I have been waiting in line to check out, saw something I needed, and picked it up right there. They actually do lots of research to determine what items sell best next to the register. But who goes, "Gee, I totally forgot I needed a pregnancy test. Good thing they put it here!"

And in answer to your question, I did NOT forget to buy one this time, either.







I didn't need one.
(tee, hee!)

A new adventure

I am a brave woman. I am a strong, confident (sometimes), fun-to-hang-with Mom. I was reading an article in a parenting magazine about fun activities for families. I like to look for new stuff to do because I have a wacky sense of adventure.
That's how I roll.
So I found the new craze is this thing called geocaching. Basically, you sign up online with any number of websites dedicated to the sport, and log in the zip code where you want to hunt. There are many, many "caches" hidden in various and sundry places in your area. Using a GPS receiver, you enter the latitude and longitude coordinates and head out to find it. Part of the fun is doing it secretly. One of the objectives is to find the cache without anyone knowing you are up to something. You retrieve it, sign in the log which is enclosed, and put it back as well, or better hidden than you found it. Then you go back to the website and log your find.
There are other variations of the sport, but being new to it, we are starting with the basic cache hunt.
It was really fun with six kids on the adventure, but it was a sad moment for my ten-year-old when she realized there was no "cash" involved.

**After we found another cache today, we realized this is a great way to witness to people in a non-confrontational way. And people come from all over the place to find these things! We'll simply leave a tract in the ones big enough to hold one, and put a scripture sticker on the log we sign.

A bit of randomness

I have cool friends in bloggy land. Joanna from Bugs In My Teeth gave me a cool award. I especially like it because it has a funny picture of someone I've never met. That and I like making people smile. But one day I'll win something from someone who doesn't put my bossy big sister first.

One day my dream will come true.

There is a mysterious narrow, creaky stairway in my house that leads to a semi-finished attic space. My husband used to live up there before we got married, and after a year of marriage, we lived up there together for a couple of months while we searched for a home of our own. In this upstairs space is a small bathroom with a sink, toilet and shower. It was installed by a handy-type man who is known for makin' stuff up as he goes along. The plumbing is bamboo (or something) held together by chewing gum and eucalyptus leaves (or something.) I can't tell you how many times the pipes have leaked, clogged, or gone on strike, so when we moved into this house, I insisted the water to the upstairs (if you can really call it that) be shut off. The kids are under strict instructions not to "use it" up there. (the rest of the space is a play room of sorts)
So now you know why we have a bathroom we don't use. 'Cuz I know you were wonderin'.

The Great Pajama Adventure

It all started when Hailey woke me up at 3:15 in the morning. After playing soccer, her knees were hurting, and she needed a leg massage. The minute I left my room and headed for hers, I knew something was terribly wrong in the house. There was an unusually strong musty smell to it. Different from the regular musty smell of an old house that's been rode hard and put away wet, so to speak. It was like the difference from the smell of an old person, and the smell of the same old person, but dead.
So I took a few minutes and rubbed Hailey's leg while I decided what to do. I knew where the smell was coming from. While I was sweeping the hall that day I found that the baseboard between Caleb's room and the bathroom was wet. Shawn thought that maybe the water to the upstairs joke of a bathroom had been turned on somehow, and checked it. He turned it on and then back off. (we don't use the bathroom up there for several reasons. I'll explain later.)
With family coming over for dinner, we got distracted and never thought of it again.

*did you know that water leaks don't spontaneously fix themselves?*

Obviously, if the smell was any indication, it needed immediate attention.
After taking care of Hailey, I moved Caleb out of his room and onto the living room couch. Without waking Shawn, I went out to the shop for a hammer, a razor knife, and a crow bar. I cut the carpet remnant that lies on the tile floor, and began to dismantle the bottom of the wall. The baseboards were saturated and toast. The cheesy paneling on the bottom half of the wall splintered off in a million pieces. Then the sheet rock under it all crumbled off the studs. And there it was. A fine misty spray coming from the ancient brittle PVC pipe.
The water leak.
That's when I shook Shawn awake.
"Honey, I'm in a little over my head, and I need your help now."
"Huh?"
"I found the water leak in Caleb's wall, and I need you to shut off the water."
He took his sleepy, underwear clad self to the other side of the house. I think he might have been a little surprised at the sight.
After turning the water off, and climbing back into bed, I lay there tossing and turning. My brain was awake, and I couldn't go back to sleep. Realizing I was hungry now, and knowing by the sounds coming from the other side of the bed that Shawn was still awake, I told him I was in the mood for some rooty, and maybe some tooty. (IHOP speak, for those of you with dirty minds) Well Shawn was in the mood too, but not for IHOP. (okay, dirty minds) I had a fabulous idea, and with a little coaxing, Shawn went along with it.
I woke up each of the kids, handed them their shoes and told them we were going on a pajama adventure. I had them put on their shoes and get in the car. By now it was 5:15. We drove in silence to IHOP and had breakfast in our jammies.
I am a cool mom.
I had to make up failing Parenting 101 the day before. I'll tell you all about it another day.

NEED.TO.VENT

Two weeks ago I called MIL (whose house we rent) to tell her that two appliances were in need of repair. No problem, because they were both purchased with service packages from Sears. Of course the refrigerator guy and the dishwasher guy are different people, so I looked funny to the drivers by who saw two repair vans in my driveway at one time. Refrigerator took all of twenty minutes and four hundred dollars. (which I didn't have to pay) Dishwasher, on the other hand, was a different story. It was broke. Parts had to be ordered. Rescheduled to Friday. Wait for parts to be delivered. Friday comes, repair dude comes back. Pulls out the dishwasher, fiddles with it for thirty minutes.
"Mrs. Thomas, I'm afraid the part they sent was defective. I'm going to order a new one shipped emergency status, and reschedule you for next Tuesday between 8-12."
Tuesday comes around, no show. 12:15 I call Sears.
"Mrs. Thomas, we don't have you on the schedule today. There's not a technician in your area."
After an earful of my unhappiness, rescheduled for Thursday between 8-12.
Today, which is Thursday, no show. 12:02 I call Sears.
Get shuffled around, hung up on twice.
Finally a call from the tech. "I just arrived at a job, I have two more after, then you're next."
12:25 I call Sears again. No help. Spend forty five minutes on hold. Does anybody know that patience is NOT my strong suit? I'm playing solitaire on the computer to keep my nerves from completely exploding. The veins in my neck are pulsing, and I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. Finally, Sears lady comes back on and tells me to expect a call from the customer service hotline immediately. Have they called?
NO!
They don't care that this is the third day that I've waited for them. One of the ladies spilled the beans and told me that the tech was having lunch.
WHAT?
"Well, Mrs. Thomas, they need to eat sometime."
SCHEDULE IT ON YOUR TIME, NOT MINE!!!!!!!
I understand he needs to eat, but it's not my fault that he was scheduled too many jobs in the morning.
They don't care that this is my third day waiting around for someone to show up.
They don't care that we have been hand washing dishes for two weeks.
I know that's stupid to be angry about having to hand wash dishes, I used to do it all the time, but I have a dishwasher with a service contract, people!
Could I get some service?
GRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!

Almost famous

Okay, I was on TV not too long ago, but that was with a group of other singers. (I was right in the middle of the screen, so there!)
But today I really feel almost famous. I am the guest blogger on the fabulous Kellan's new blog, On The Flipside. I know you have already read my "two cents worth" here, but since I know you were so impressed with what I had to say, you can read it again over there.
Hee, hee!
All I want to know is, where does she get all her great clip art that she uses? I love the picture she added to it!

Wordless Wednesday (in training for the Secret Service)

My two cents worth

Recently, while browsing through a forum, I came across a thread about guns. The statement was quite harsh. It read something like this.
"I live in Chicago, and just this weekend two people were shot and killed. Let me make this clear. Guns kill people."
I have to say that as a gun owning Southerner, and a red blooded American, I was infuriated. I couldn't resist leaving a comment. Perhaps I was a bit snotty, but I was very, very angry. Here's what I said in reply.
"I have a Colt .45 and a .22 rifle which have never killed anyone. They are hidden in my house to protect my family from invaders. I realize both my guns are from a happily un-broken family, and that since their Daddy is still here to help me take care of them, that they don't have the same problems other guns have. Many guns out there are being cared for by single parents who have to work many hours while the poor little guns are left to their own devices. They are cared for in such poverty and poor conditions that it's no wonder they seek solace in a gang and follow a life of crime. But they cannot be held accountable for their actions. They are products of their upbringing. If only these guns could have grown up under the influence of both of their parent, they might have stood a chance at being good little guns. Oh please, people! Wake up and smell the coffee! Guns don't kill people. They are manually operated. The trigger must be physically depressed, and I'm not talking sad, folks. Bottom line: People kill people."
What do you think?

My first award in Blogville

I'd like to thank Tina for this lovely award. I can't believe I got an award I don't even know how to say. And I don't really know WHAT to say, except,

Gee, thanks!

Random thought of the day

Was doing a fun survey on MySpace (gasp!), and decided I liked this question.

How do you dress?

My answer: One pant leg at a time, and I wear my underwear under my clothes.
How do you dress?

What was I thinking???

At the advice of a very close family member and friend, I decided to reward Hailey for all her help with the Z-meister. She has wanted a dog of her very own, and has asked repeatedly if Zaccheus could be hers. Knowing that he probably won't live a long rewarding life, what with a chronic sinus infection that will one day be resistant to antibiotics, I thought it unwise to just give him to her. So we came up with a compromise I rather liked. I gave Roxy to her. That was around 7:00 last night. Much has happened since then.
Now Roxy gets to sleep with her. Hailey wants to dress her, and bathe her and brush her teeth. Let's just say she wants to treat her like a doll, a living toy that will give her endless joy. Oh, boy!
I had to let Hailey in on it this morning. Roxy has very sensitive skin, so she can't be bathed often, and she must be rinsed carefully. Also, dogs do not understand a shift in authority, and I have already established that position. So Roxy is looking at her like, "what do you mean, come here? You're not the boss of me." I asked her if I had been doing a bad job taking care of R since we've had her. Since the answer was clearly "no" I told her not to change things. It's going to take a while for Roxy to make the shift. Just sleeping with her at night will establish a relationship.
But it came just one hour and forty five minutes after the power shift. I told Hailey she couldn't bathe Roxy right then.
"Mom, she's MY dog!"
Oh, joy!