Crow~ It's What's for Dinner

I feel a ramble coming on.
Yesterday I was the object of a virtual girl-gang fight, and it was absolutely surreal. Not only did I not see it coming, I didn't think it was warranted at all. But in the end, I caved. I didn't want to. I still don't want to. But I did it for Christians and for the sake of doing the right thing. In spite of the fact that I think the instigator of the mess was completely in the wrong. Way to take one for the Lord, eh? Well, let me tell ya. The fact that I am still not happy about eating it should show just how much of a hypocrite I feel like.
Sometimes doing the right thing TOTALLY SUCKS!!!
I told Shawn, after I ended it, that it is almost like the fight I'm in for my health. I don't want to eat the salad. I want the cake. But the cake is only for immediate satisfaction. So I put on my big girl panties and eat the salad. All the while, grumbling under my breath that the cake would have been much yummier. I didn't do the right thing because I wanted to, I did it because I HAD to. So what if I don't want to? The result is the same. I am fed and have the results of a good decision under my belt.
SNORT-literally!
Meanwhile, I feel battered emotionally by someone I have kept contact with over the years, solely in the hopes that she will be drawn to the things of the Lord. I know I'm not a perfect example of Christianity. HELLO? I'm more than a hundred pounds overweight! Somewhere I have idols that are quite obvious.
I wanted so badly to lash out with the pain and defensiveness that I felt. In fact, I still feel it. I spent the whole night at work feverishly praying for forgiveness and the right attitude. I'm still not there. I have moments of forgiveness and peace, but then I fall back into defense mode and wanna go kick her tail. What? I'm human, and she attacked me publicly! But, for her sake, and for the sake of her friends, who were right on board for the Diane-and-all-Christians-out-there bashing session, I apologized for offending her and removed the offensive material.
Maybe tomorrow I will stop being mad about it.

The Cruise in Retrospect

If I had to express how I feel about the cruise, I'd simply say this.

I had a fabulous time.

I was pampered.

I was cared for.

I was relaxed.

I rested.

I enjoyed myself.

That said, I could take or leave the cruise scene. I enjoyed not being responsible for food, cleaning, or childcare for a week. But we don't drink, we don't gamble, we don't care which man has the sexiest legs or the best belly flop. We don't enjoy suggestive humor all that much, and we were never really into the Beetles. And who knew that karaoke is really just an excuse to get drunk and make an idiot of yourself?!?!

We don't have money to island hop in search of the best deal on diamonds or tanzanite, so shopping isn't really our bag.

Renting a boogie board and some fins is more our speed. Playing frisbee on the beach is fun and relaxing. Watching Caleb roll around in the surf and sand is entertaining, and taking Hailey to have her hair braided by an island local suits us just fine. Touring an old military fort is educational, and shooting the breeze with the family is great.

Snuggling in a hammock grove with my sweetie is cozy, and the combined sounds of the ocean and the swaying palm trees is enchanting.

Riding ATVs up mountains and back down through sub-tropical forests is awesome, as is sampling the various native fruits and foods of a certain sulphurous island. Snorkeling around a tropical reef on a rainy day is amazing.

The color of the sea is positively alive. I am addicted to it now.

I am pretty sure that I could live comfortably on the beach where Mary and Harley got married. I hope we get to return and revisit some of our destinations someday. Meanwhile, I have tons of pictures to enjoy and remember.

Move over Brad, Denzel, and Johnny Depp!

You have nothing on this sexiest man alive!

Yesterday afternoon, as I was walking down the hall to put away the freshly folded laundry, I heard curious sounds coming from my bedroom.

I opened the door, and there HE was...

Shirtless....

Vacuuming the floor of the room he had cleaned...

Without even being asked.

"What can I do for YOU?"


Mmmm, Mmmm, MMMM!

Now, THAT'S sexy!

Does This Jet Pack Make My Butt Look Big?

So I heard on the radio the other day that we have finally caught up with the Jetsons. Apparently, a jet pack has been invented for the masses.

I'm assuming that you will have to sign a legal waiver along the lines of, "I __________, being of sound mind and body, (for the moment) do hereby release __________ from any and all legal responsibility concerning the stupidity that shall herewith commence, as I strap my body to an explosive, highly flammable device, and attempt to break free of the gravitational force which God hath so graciously bestowed upon our planet, although, if the force could be released, ever so slightly, I would not weigh as much as I currently weigh...(wait, that's another agreement.) ...I won't sue if I run out of gas, hit a bird, get a bug in my eye, collide with a jet-liner, or choke on a cloud."

I was telling Shawn about it, and mentioning that, if money were no object...

Don't you love sentences like that?

If money was no object...

If I had all the money in the world...

I would pay off all my bills, fund a cure for cancer and stupidity, and buy my husband a jet pack.

So then we started talking about the beauty of owning this wave of the future.

He could leave for work and get there in 15 minutes, instead of an hour.

He wouldn't need much of a parking space.

It would get great mileage.

Or would it?

Just what is the weight limit on this thing, anyway?

Rambling Rosie

We're back from the land down under. No, we didn't go to Australia. Florida is technically under us. But, now that you mention it, we did go to Japan... I came to a conclusion while we were there.

I love camping.

I love it.

I love taking the camper out and making the beds, putting out my pink flamingo decorations and lights, and playing house in the great outdoors.

I love Disney World.

I love it.

I love seeing the characters and sharing things with my kids that were part of my own childhood, and meant something to me, growing up.

But I don't love the camping-Disney World combination.

Camping is work.

Disney World is work.

There is no down time when you do both together.

I think it would have been better if we had a couple of extra days to just enjoy the campground sometime during the week, instead of running and running, just stopping long enough to sleep, but not sleeping long enough.

Each park really needs at least two days to explore properly. Hailey wanted to wait in lines and get autographs, but I didn't let her stand in all those lines. There just wasn't time. Thankfully, she got all the princess autographs at her Cinderella breakfast. Otherwise, we'd still be in line.

We did ride most of the rides we wanted to ride, and the lines were not bad at all. In fact, we only needed fast-passes for one ride, which we ended up not riding. We had no wait at all for the Tower of Terror. Which, come to think of it, should have told me that I wouldn't like it. I have an extreme fear of heights. I don't like ladders, ledges, or even standing on chairs. Now I know why. I really, REALLY hate the sensation of falling. The first time we rode the Tower, I didn't make a peep. I was too scared to scream. I used every ounce of my strength to hold on to the handles beside my chair, to keep my behind in my seat. Yes, there was a seatbelt, but I wasn't taking any chances.

If you noticed, I said, "the first time."

We rode it twice.

Why? you ask. Good question. I don't even know.

Bethany asked if we wanted to go again. I said I didn't know. Hailey wanted to go again, so I asked Chris if she was going again. She said, "Sure, why not?"

Why not?

WHY NOT???

Because I need my heart to slide back down from my throat to my chest!

And I need clean pants!

But it's all good. I'm just glad we got to see a few of the shows while we were there. Finding Nemo and The Beauty and the Beast were exceptional. The 3D shows we saw were fun, and Shawn got to be "That Guy" in the Monster's Inc. Laugh Floor show.

They gave Shawn and me each a pin that said Happy Anniversary on it, so everywhere we went, people wished us Happy Anniversary.

Caleb got to go through Jedi training and now has his padawan certification.

Bethany and I got our faces painted.
Hailey and I had breakfast in Cinderella's castle.

We learned what pin trading was all about, and spent WAY too much money on pins to trade. (whoever thought up that idea was a genius!) Pin trading brought my son closer to his Auntie Chris, which brought joy to my heart and tears to my eyes.

The campground was really nice, with the exception of how close each campsite was to the next. There was really no privacy, which wouldn't work for regular camping. Disney World camping was fine, since we didn't spend much time at the campground. and neither did the other campers. The pool was fabulous, complete with a gigantic water slide. The kids loved it. We even roasted marsmallows one night at the outdoor theater, where Highschool Musical 3 was playing.

About That Cliffhanger

I know I left you hanging, and I didn't mean to. I just didn't know the answer to my dilemma until today.

I have been homeschooling for some time now. In fact, this is our fifth year. I have loved it. I have enjoyed it. I have hated it. I have groaned some mornings when the sun rose. It has been a rollercoaster of emotions sometimes.

But there was one thing I was always sure of until now. This was what God wanted me to do. This year I have been struggling with a certain young lady, who shall remain nameless. She has whined, complained, thrown tantrums, begged, pleaded, etc. to get out of doing school. I am worn down by the battle. And since I am easily swayed by all such methods, this year has been very difficult.

But all that changed with a single text. Someone in my sister's office quit. Someone who did a job that I knew I could do. So I hit my knees and sent out prayer requests to my friends, asking God what to do. If it was time to send the kids to private school, I needed a job that would pay for it. I have been a stay-at-home-mom since Hailey was a tiny baby. I don't have many marketable skills. Besides, I didn't want to leave my cushy life as a kept woman. But I needed to do what God wanted me to do, so I prayed and dove into the Word, looking for an answer.

I got one.

It wasn't the one I expected, but since it's even better, I'm okay with that.

Shawn got two job offers in one week. He wasn't even seeking employment from these companies, but they came looking for him. The first offer was good, but the second offer was too good to pass up. He accepted it and will start in a few weeks.

It will pay for Hailey's tuition and I will stay home, continuing to homeschool Caleb.

Isn't God good?!?!

**Lest anyone think I'm banishing my daughter, I think she will flourish in school. She needs interaction with other kids more than she has in the past, and she filters her attitude better with other teachers. I wish she would with me, but I know she will do fabulously.

Meanwhile, Caleb needs to work on building a few good character qualities before I subject a teacher to him. I'm hoping a little one on one will help him learn a little tenderness and compassion, as well as respect for his elders.

It's In The Wind

I don't like change.

Let me correct that.

I don't like unexpected change.

I actually DO like change that I have planned. In fact, today's post is all about change.

I have been working on a couple of big projects here in the forest. Shawn and I painted the kitchen cabinets and walls. We had to remove wall paper, but it was worth the work. The only problem now is that I'm not crazy about the color I painted the kitchen. I was trying to reproduce an accidental delight I accomplished in a previous home. No dice. My choices were not close enough to the original to accomplish the same result. And the result I am currently living with happens to be somewhat pink. I don't really like pink all that much.

Before, with handles in the middle of the doors.

After, with the handles moved. Nice, eh?

This past weekend Shawn and I pulled the nasty pink print carpet out of the play room and replaced it with neutral linoleum. We will be laying tile in the kitchen next to it, but the dogs sometimes leave unexpected puddles, and I don't want the floor ruined.

The Impending Doom of Retirement

You know that grass over there on the other side of the fence?
The pretty, green, plush, wind-blown grass?
It's an OPTICAL ILLUSION!!!!!

I hear it all the time. "My husband just comes home from work and camps out in front of the TV every night and weekend. If only he would get up and help around the house. Why do I have to do everything around here!!!"

Well, as one of those wives whose husband gets off his rear end and helps out, it ain't all it's cracked up to be. Suddenly there's another person under my feet, who actually is doing things. When I ask for something to be done, it actually gets done. Rooms are magically clean without me lifting a finger in them, but then he wants to take a picture of the room and hang it up, so we all have a visual of what we may aspire to, if we so wished. It appears that his college courses in efficiency and process management just may trickle into our home, so I have to think of something clever.

Honey, could you please just run out an pick me up a few things?

Nah, I'm thankful for the help. He's even assisting with the candy making.

And when I came home last night from work, the carport and the shop were neat and tidy.

I can't wait until he's home all the time!

Still

Once upon a time a young girl went camping with her parents, and while they were camping, they journeyed to a beautiful spring with an old fashioned mill. While the girl was enjoying the sight of this mill from the shade of a giant tree, her mother suggested that it would be the perfect place to get the first kiss from that perfect "someone."

The girl tucked that information away in her heart to think about at a later time.

By and by, the girl began taking night classes at the local community college, and there she met a nice boy who, by chance, was taking some of the same classes.

They attended a school function, where they realized they each enjoyed the company of the other. They began studying together, and the boy even went to church with the girl.

Somewhere along the way, the girl shared the story about the beautiful mill, and her mother's suggestion, and the boy tucked that information away into his heart to think about at a later time, for himself.

Days grew to weeks, which became months, and the boy and girl realized that their love for each other was great enough to consider marriage.

The boy had a great adventure planned for himself and the girl he loved. He had never forgotten the story he had heard from her about the beautiful mill and her mother's suggestion.

He took her there one day. They had a picnic right under the tree near the spring, in view of the old mill. And then, with purpose and determination, he leaned in and kissed the girl he loved so much.

Many years, marriage, cats, dogs, fish, and two children later, the boy, now grown into a man, took his love back to the mill. The tree was still there. The spring was still flowing with cold, clear water. The children recognized the mill from a painting of it that hangs over their fireplace.

He kissed her once more under the shadow of the tree. And she knew her mother was still right, even after all these years.

It was still the perfect place to be kissed by that perfect someone.

Fourteen years closer to forever

It really doesn't seem like that long ago, and yet it feels like a lifetime.

Fourteen years ago, I married the man for whom God made me.

Meeting him for the first time, I could never have imagined my life as it is today. He wasn't a Christian, and didn't really have a bright future. But he started coming to church with me, found Jesus, and the rest, as they say, is history.

I'll never forget his shaggy long hair pulled back into a pony-tail. I knew my Mother was going to kill me for giving him my number. But I couldn't resist those eyes. He looked at me as if I were the only one in the room. He made me feel beautiful.

He still does.

There have been days when I looked at this man who was so familiar, and yet a strange mystery, and wondered what I had done when I married him. There have been times when I realized that this wasn't what I signed up for.

And there have been times when I couldn't imagine my life without him, wondered how I could even breathe without him in my life.

He isn't perfect, by any stretch of the imagination, but the beautiful thing is that I am not perfect, either. And somehow, in our individual imperfection, we find a beautiful harmony.

When I read I Corinthians 13, I can honestly say that he is 100% of all the things love is. I find that extraordinarily humbling, to say the least.

I have let him down, and he has forgiven me. He has been patient with me, when I have been filled with impatience. He is one of the kindest people I know. He is not easily provoked, so when he gets riled, I know it's about something big. He tries to see the good in everyone, which works to my benefit.

I could say that I don't deserve him, but the opposite is actually the truth. He doesn't deserve someone as selfish, whiney, petty, stubborn, and just plain obstinate as me.

But I'm so thankful he stays.

As if I didn't have enough to do...

I wrote my daily to-do task list on the dry erase board in the class room, lest I forget to do something today. It is very long, yet I sit here at the computer reading all the blogs I have missed the past couple of days, and writing one of my own. It takes me a while to get going in the morning.
Mostly, I have calls today, but the places I have to call are not open yet, so it's okay.

This weekend Shawn looked around our bedroom and realized that none of our stuff will match the pale pink master bedroom at the new house, so he said we should go ahead and paint it before we move into it. The master bedroom is one of the only two rooms without wall paper, so he figured it wouldn't take very long. Of course, since he's not allowed to hold so much as a brush, this meant I would be doing the painting. So yesterday, I went, picked out the color, bought some supplies, and started painting. Fortunately, I had already moved a small space heater over there, and the room heated up nicely. I was able to do the first coat of the trim. So today, among all the other stuff I have to do, I will be going back to the house to do another coat of trim, and possibly one coat of rolling. Whoopie!

Final version

Shawn and I built a scaled down version of the tear drop trailer we plan to build someday. For now, this little utility trailer will be going with us to NY at Thanksgiving. We will be driving Shawn's little Aveo, and we needed someplace to put stuff like the clothes and the kids. So here she is...

Project complete

A bit ago I told you that I was working on a project that included power tools and involved sawdust upon freshly sunburnt skin. Remember? Well, we have completed our task. It is pretty cool, if you ask me.

Can you guess what it is?

No fair giving out hints, Chris!

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.

Thomas and Son

**updated 7/7**
My husband is the fixer of many things. He can't go camping without looking for something to fix. If something has broken around the house, I know that I only need wait for him to come home, and it will be repaired post-haste, whatever that means.
So it should be no surprise that he always has an ongoing project or two lying about the house, or cluttering up the yard. This past weekend it was two projects. He was working on a boat for someone he used to work with, and a wrecked truck which my mother recently acquired.
Now, on top of all this, I had my cousin staying with us for the weekend, and we pulled the camper around front for the kids to "camp" in while they used the kids' bedrooms. So on this half acre lot there was the following:
one boat
one camper
two trailers
two mini-vans
one compact car
**update** two mid-size cars
one pick-up truck
two motorcycles
and a partridge in a pear tree

Needless to say, this theme song kept running through my head every time I looked outside.
But, the boat is now fixed, and is waiting to be retrieved, the truck is repaired and gone, the cousin's mini-van is back at her home, and the camper is still sitting right outside my front door. Sounds like a project for tomorrow.

What did you DO?

So the other day, Shawn comes home and tells me he's done something he regrets. "Ummm, okay. What did you do?"
Seems he spent his birthday money on a new exhaust system for his Aveo. It's supposed to help with gas mileage. (Not sure why this is necessary, since it gets, like, 179 miles per gallon. OK, exaggeration.) It's a performance thing, he says.

"What are you, seventeen?" I'm thinking. But I keep my mouth shut. (for the moment)

I can't help but wonder if he's expressing regret because he knows I'll hate it, but he insists it's too loud, even for him. Well, to his credit, he does wear hearing protection when he mows the lawn.
"Crank it up," say I.
So he cranks it, and I'm blown into T county. Okay, more exaggeration, but I can't hear him talk. He tells me he's taking it back to have it toned down.
"WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

*Turns it off*

He says it makes his head pound, so he takes it back to have the guy do a little magic on it which makes it run a little quieter.

*emphasis on "little"*

Now I move in for the "What are you, seventeen?" quip.

What is it about men, that what they have is never cool enough? They have to "do" something to it, and give it "More Power!" a la Tim Taylor.

I shouldn't complain, though. He doesn't watch sports, or go fishing or hunting. He doesn't have much that takes his attention away from me and the kids. He works hard, and takes very good care of us. He loves me more that I probably deserve. But still I am annoyed that he can't just have the newest vehicle he's ever owned, and leave it be.

But I was thankful for this car on Thursday when I had to drive back to camp. There was no way I was straddling that motorcycle again for that distance. Shawn told me how to stuff steel wool into one of the pipes to muffle the sound, so I would not be deaf in an hour. So stuff, I did. But my ear drums were bruised by the time I arrived. My head was pounding, and I refused to get back in the car on the way home. I would rather tow a camper all the way, than suffer through that sound for one more mile.
And before it goes to New York in November, he has to put back on the factory exhaust.