Wow! What a great day! Rainy and cold but...
Sarah wanted to go to the mall with her friend, Megan. So I brought them. Of course, Steven wanted to go too and I decided to stay there and mooch around for a bit. Stan and David joined us after David's friend went home. At first, Sarah didn't like the idea of her whole family being there at the mall but I convinced her we weren't going to be tagging along with her and her friends. Which, of course, I totally planned to do. Steven and I managed to discreetly follow them at a distance, ducking behind clothes racks and large shoppers. They never knew we were there. As the minutes ticked by their little group began to grow, first there was one girl friend and then her boyfriend and his buddy. Then three more boys, then another girl. I began to get concerned that perhaps she had planned this all along. I approcahed the group outside the store and said "Hello everyone!" Sarah did not seem upset that I was there! She smiled and leaned on my shoulder and said "Hi Mom!"
A little while letter I approcahed them in a skateboarder/wierd clothing store holding up a tiny red and white bikini. "What do you think? Red or blue?" I asked holding it up to my chest. Sarah laughed "Oh Mom, I knew you were going to do that!" But she was kidding with me and wasn't mad and wow! That's great! Not embarrassed to see me in public! Progress!
Saturday, April 7, 2007
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
A Funny Story from Mexico
I have the funniest story to tell but my husband did not at the time, nor does he now, find the incident even remotely amusing so be sure not to mention it to him if you sense that he might not be in the best of moods.
When we went to Mexico we stayed at a youth-type camp in Acuna. The accomodations were certainly adequate but dormitory style and Stan is not a fan of sleeping with dozens of other snoring men who might have the nerve to move around in the middle of the night and disturb his beauty sleep. So we brought our tent and air mattress and after much discussion about the outdoor lights, driveway traffic, foot traffic, proximity to the dumpster, etc. we set up camp in back of the dormitory under a lovely tree on nice level ground. The first night we slept like babies. The next day was the beginning of Monsoon Season apparently and the rain swept in and kept us huddled in the dining hall playing card games and trying not to go crazy. At one point during the day someone informed us that the wind had tipped our tent over. "Odd," I thought, since we had staked it down with no less than 6 stakes and the ground was like rock. So we waded over to the spot where the tent had been and, sure enough, it had been upended by the wind and was being held in place by only one remaining stake. The spot where the tent had been situated was under approximately 3 inches of water. I tipped it back onto it's base and opened the flap to start removing contents. I knew that it was going to be impossible to move with the air mattress, sleeping bags, lantern, air pump, etc. in there. The air mattress was still inflated and due to the wind and rain I decided to just drag it out of the tent, take it to the dining hall (to deflate at my leisure) and come back for the tent. I thought that Stan would follow suit by grabbing other loose items from inside the tent and follow me. So I started around the back of the dormitory toward the dining hall and a blast of wind caught ahold of the mattress and blew me across the field completely opposite where I had intended to go. I regained my balance and giggling madly at my quick and unexpected flight, began to trudge back toward the dormitory. As I rounded the corner of the building headed for the dining hall, still chuckling about my flight worthiness, another blast of wind caught my air mattress and once again I found myself sailing across the field. By now I was howling with laughter and hoping that Stan could see how hilarious this was. I struggled to the back of the dormitory again and this time tried to reposition my hold on the mattress hoping that this new angle would prevent me from being blown away because although I had thoroughly enjoyed my first two flights I was very wet and getting muddier by the minute as my landings in the field had been anything but graceful. I battled through the gale and gained the doorway to the dining hall where I burst through laughing and streaming wet. By now I was mildly curious as to what had become of my dear husband because I could not hear or see him anywhere and thought surely he had collapsed from laughing at the sight of me being dragged across a muddy field by an air mattress turned hang glider.
I went back to the door and much to my dismay my husband rounded the corner of the building, dragging the once again upside down tent, still full of equipment, tent poles jutting at wild angles, mud everywhere. He was not laughing. He was not even smiling. Apparently my antics in the field with the air mattress were completely lost on him as he struggled to control the fully erected and equipment-laden tent in the gale force wind and rain. He smashed his way through the door to the dining hall dragging the bedraggled tent and right in front of God and everyone declared his distaste for the weather and my sense of humor. The tent had apparently become snagged in the trees after one wild gust and Stan had unceremoniously ripped it clear so now we had holes and mud and broken poles and a general shambles inside the tent. I managed to stop laughing at that point.
Anyway, the sight of him dragging that mangled tent, all muddy and wet - very funny. I have an odd sense of humor I guess.
When we went to Mexico we stayed at a youth-type camp in Acuna. The accomodations were certainly adequate but dormitory style and Stan is not a fan of sleeping with dozens of other snoring men who might have the nerve to move around in the middle of the night and disturb his beauty sleep. So we brought our tent and air mattress and after much discussion about the outdoor lights, driveway traffic, foot traffic, proximity to the dumpster, etc. we set up camp in back of the dormitory under a lovely tree on nice level ground. The first night we slept like babies. The next day was the beginning of Monsoon Season apparently and the rain swept in and kept us huddled in the dining hall playing card games and trying not to go crazy. At one point during the day someone informed us that the wind had tipped our tent over. "Odd," I thought, since we had staked it down with no less than 6 stakes and the ground was like rock. So we waded over to the spot where the tent had been and, sure enough, it had been upended by the wind and was being held in place by only one remaining stake. The spot where the tent had been situated was under approximately 3 inches of water. I tipped it back onto it's base and opened the flap to start removing contents. I knew that it was going to be impossible to move with the air mattress, sleeping bags, lantern, air pump, etc. in there. The air mattress was still inflated and due to the wind and rain I decided to just drag it out of the tent, take it to the dining hall (to deflate at my leisure) and come back for the tent. I thought that Stan would follow suit by grabbing other loose items from inside the tent and follow me. So I started around the back of the dormitory toward the dining hall and a blast of wind caught ahold of the mattress and blew me across the field completely opposite where I had intended to go. I regained my balance and giggling madly at my quick and unexpected flight, began to trudge back toward the dormitory. As I rounded the corner of the building headed for the dining hall, still chuckling about my flight worthiness, another blast of wind caught my air mattress and once again I found myself sailing across the field. By now I was howling with laughter and hoping that Stan could see how hilarious this was. I struggled to the back of the dormitory again and this time tried to reposition my hold on the mattress hoping that this new angle would prevent me from being blown away because although I had thoroughly enjoyed my first two flights I was very wet and getting muddier by the minute as my landings in the field had been anything but graceful. I battled through the gale and gained the doorway to the dining hall where I burst through laughing and streaming wet. By now I was mildly curious as to what had become of my dear husband because I could not hear or see him anywhere and thought surely he had collapsed from laughing at the sight of me being dragged across a muddy field by an air mattress turned hang glider.
I went back to the door and much to my dismay my husband rounded the corner of the building, dragging the once again upside down tent, still full of equipment, tent poles jutting at wild angles, mud everywhere. He was not laughing. He was not even smiling. Apparently my antics in the field with the air mattress were completely lost on him as he struggled to control the fully erected and equipment-laden tent in the gale force wind and rain. He smashed his way through the door to the dining hall dragging the bedraggled tent and right in front of God and everyone declared his distaste for the weather and my sense of humor. The tent had apparently become snagged in the trees after one wild gust and Stan had unceremoniously ripped it clear so now we had holes and mud and broken poles and a general shambles inside the tent. I managed to stop laughing at that point.
Anyway, the sight of him dragging that mangled tent, all muddy and wet - very funny. I have an odd sense of humor I guess.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Some days are longer than others
It started early. 5:30 am. I wanted to get up early and get a headstart on the kids because there were extra kids today and it being a school day I figured I'd need all the time I could get. I got all 5 of them up and moving with a minimum of trouble. A lot of noise, but not much trouble. Made breakfast. Lunches had been made the night before. We talked about possible alterations or additions to the lunches. I told the older 4 to finish getting ready while I drove David to school. On the way out the door we were accosted by a very small, very furry, very cute Rottweiler puppy. Sarah appeared as if from out of nowhere, scooped the puppy up and disappeared into the house. "Great," I thought. Just what we don't need.
When I got back I dragged the kennel into the garage, cleaned it out and filled it with towels. Sarah and Natalie deposited the puppy and I drove them to school. By the time I got back to the house I had my plan of action. I figured it belonged to the new nextdoor neighbors but they weren't answering the door. So I left a note on their door, along with my garage door opener telling them where the puppy was and to go and fetch it whenever. And I left for work.
Got home and half hoped the puppy would still be there but she was gone. Phew! We really, really do not need another pet! Now to get the kids where they need to be. Sarah wants to go sell girl scout cookies with a friend. Go. David to Rachel's across the street. Go. Steven to lacrosse. Let's go. Pull into parking lot a few minutes late. There's no one in sight. Is practice cancelled? moved to another location? No email today to indicate change. Let's go look another place. 20 minutes later, find the team. Car is completely out of gas. Use fumes to get to gas station. Here's where it gets interesting.
I remembered a couple of weeks ago an email from my Dad (I think) about women at gas stations being preyed upon by purse snatchers and such. So I thought "Better put my purse on the floor. Better yet, lock the door." I opened the door and as I was getting out, hit the lock button. The doors would not lock. I tried it again. Hmm. Wierd. Oh the keys are in the ignition. I can't lock the door if the keys are in the ignition. Clever feature! This would keep people from locking their keys in the car. Very clever. I removed the keys from the ignition, tossed them in the console and got out of the car, locking the door and slamming it shut. oh oh. I didn't! Yes, I did.
So I pumped the gas and went into the gas station to ask to borrow their phone. In this day and age of cell phone usage, apparently they aren't asked to use the phone often, they were thoroughly perplexed as to whether they should allow me to use the phone. They finally decided to let me as long as they dialed it for me. I called my parents house. No answer. I called my Dad's cell phone. My Mom answered. I told her what was wrong and asked her to go to my house, get my spare key and come to the gas station. Sounds easy, right? Silver key, not black, on red heart key chain. Shell station at the end of Pecan Parkway at Anderson Mill Road. Well an hour goes by and no Mom or Dad. I go back into the gas station and ask to use the phone again. Again a perplexing conversation in a foreign language. Finally I get ahold of my mother who is fielding phone calls from my father who is in another town entirely trying to find me. I could have walked to my house and back to the gas station by now. We finally get him redirected and he arrives at the correct gas station. With the wrong key. "Dad, just give me a ride home."
Unbelievable how tired one can get just from the "normal" events of a day, huh?
When I got back I dragged the kennel into the garage, cleaned it out and filled it with towels. Sarah and Natalie deposited the puppy and I drove them to school. By the time I got back to the house I had my plan of action. I figured it belonged to the new nextdoor neighbors but they weren't answering the door. So I left a note on their door, along with my garage door opener telling them where the puppy was and to go and fetch it whenever. And I left for work.
Got home and half hoped the puppy would still be there but she was gone. Phew! We really, really do not need another pet! Now to get the kids where they need to be. Sarah wants to go sell girl scout cookies with a friend. Go. David to Rachel's across the street. Go. Steven to lacrosse. Let's go. Pull into parking lot a few minutes late. There's no one in sight. Is practice cancelled? moved to another location? No email today to indicate change. Let's go look another place. 20 minutes later, find the team. Car is completely out of gas. Use fumes to get to gas station. Here's where it gets interesting.
I remembered a couple of weeks ago an email from my Dad (I think) about women at gas stations being preyed upon by purse snatchers and such. So I thought "Better put my purse on the floor. Better yet, lock the door." I opened the door and as I was getting out, hit the lock button. The doors would not lock. I tried it again. Hmm. Wierd. Oh the keys are in the ignition. I can't lock the door if the keys are in the ignition. Clever feature! This would keep people from locking their keys in the car. Very clever. I removed the keys from the ignition, tossed them in the console and got out of the car, locking the door and slamming it shut. oh oh. I didn't! Yes, I did.
So I pumped the gas and went into the gas station to ask to borrow their phone. In this day and age of cell phone usage, apparently they aren't asked to use the phone often, they were thoroughly perplexed as to whether they should allow me to use the phone. They finally decided to let me as long as they dialed it for me. I called my parents house. No answer. I called my Dad's cell phone. My Mom answered. I told her what was wrong and asked her to go to my house, get my spare key and come to the gas station. Sounds easy, right? Silver key, not black, on red heart key chain. Shell station at the end of Pecan Parkway at Anderson Mill Road. Well an hour goes by and no Mom or Dad. I go back into the gas station and ask to use the phone again. Again a perplexing conversation in a foreign language. Finally I get ahold of my mother who is fielding phone calls from my father who is in another town entirely trying to find me. I could have walked to my house and back to the gas station by now. We finally get him redirected and he arrives at the correct gas station. With the wrong key. "Dad, just give me a ride home."
Unbelievable how tired one can get just from the "normal" events of a day, huh?
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Martha's Christmas Song
Here's my Christmas song, sung to the tune of A Partridge in a Pear Tree
On the twelfth day of Christmas the family farm was this:
Day 12 Valentine the Cat
Day 11 Reno is her brother
Day 10 Tiger's mom was feral
Day 9 parakeet named Ralph
Day 8 Yoda beta fish
Day 7 Skittles is too
Day 6 Takota is a lizard
Day 5 Goldie and Garfield
Day 4 Tallulah is a lizard
Day 3 Abby's a dog
Day 2 Ginger is the sick one
Day 1 And a chicken that we named Wanda
Oh no, I forgot the rats! Chrysanthemum and Rosie. This truly is ridiculous.
I know, it's not very good. I could do better if I had more time and less animal friends. Ginger just barfed on the rug again, I've got to go. Dogs!
On the twelfth day of Christmas the family farm was this:
Day 12 Valentine the Cat
Day 11 Reno is her brother
Day 10 Tiger's mom was feral
Day 9 parakeet named Ralph
Day 8 Yoda beta fish
Day 7 Skittles is too
Day 6 Takota is a lizard
Day 5 Goldie and Garfield
Day 4 Tallulah is a lizard
Day 3 Abby's a dog
Day 2 Ginger is the sick one
Day 1 And a chicken that we named Wanda
Oh no, I forgot the rats! Chrysanthemum and Rosie. This truly is ridiculous.
I know, it's not very good. I could do better if I had more time and less animal friends. Ginger just barfed on the rug again, I've got to go. Dogs!
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Parenting Gem No. 1
I figured out how to get my kids to pay attention to a pet that they've been neglecting! They (the pet, not the kid) have to have a near-death experience. Simple, huh?
The way I discovered this little gem of parenting? Well, it goes like this: today we got home from the Christmas parties at school (yes, we just got out today!) and found our sweet, gentle, somewhat annoying who-knows-how-old dog, Ginger, staggering around. She couldn't stand up, couldn't walk and her eyes were jerking back and forth in a scary way. Needless to say we freaked. I immediately jumped to the conclusion that she had had some kind of stroke and was dying. The kids were all crying except the oldest - he was yelling at the kids who were crying presumably because they were "scaring the dog" - and I moved straight into my "this is part of the circle of life, all of God's creatures are here only for a short time, yada, yada, yada...." speech. Meanwhile I'm thinking, "One down, twelve to go!" Yes, we have 13 pets. And we're caring for two more for some friends who are away. It's literally a zoo around here. Anyway, we took her to the vet to have her put down. It's the humane thing to do when an animal is suffering and certainly she was suffering, right? So we get to the vet and he asks "So, what's happening here?" I was hoping that he wouldn't ask a lot of questions. I was hoping that he would just come into the room with the needle, do the deed and let me go home. But no. "So, what's happening here?" he says with a smile and a pat on the dog's head. So I told him. And does he agree with my diagnosis of stroke and subsequent paralysis resulting in a terrible quality of life for the poor dog???? Noooooooo, of course not. He takes one look at her eyes and asks, "Does she have a history of ear infections?" To which No. 1 son pipes up, "Oh yeah, all the time." Dr. Vet says "Hmm, well it may be..." and launches into an explanation filled with 8 syllable words which ended with "...treat her with an antibiotic for a week and that should do the trick." I'm nodding and smiling throughout thinking, "S*&t, we're taking her back home again, aren't we?" Yes, I swear in my thoughts. Forgive me.
So $118.00 and an hour and a half later we're back home with a pocket full of pill bottles and Ginger's a flippin' hero and everyone's oohing and aahing and petting and loving and right now, as I write this, No. 1 daughter is sitting on the bedroom floor next to Ginger hand feeding her. Hand feeding. That dog has been pet, hugged, squeezed and cried over so much today her fur is coming out. She's probably thinking that she has died and gone to doggy-heaven. This devoted daughter of mine, whom yesterday I could not even pay to take the dogs for a walk, keeps coming out and telling me about the plans she's devised to help Ginger to walk if she doesn't get her legs under her again. Which she might not, she might have arthritis as well as an inner ear infection. Her plans involve a sling type thing which we hold while she walks with her front legs and/or a wheeled cart to put under her back end. sigh. How long is Christmas break? And when are the Browns coming to collect their vinal-siding eating, dirt flinging, bark at everything that moves dogs?!?!
Bless you all and Merry Christmas!!!!
The way I discovered this little gem of parenting? Well, it goes like this: today we got home from the Christmas parties at school (yes, we just got out today!) and found our sweet, gentle, somewhat annoying who-knows-how-old dog, Ginger, staggering around. She couldn't stand up, couldn't walk and her eyes were jerking back and forth in a scary way. Needless to say we freaked. I immediately jumped to the conclusion that she had had some kind of stroke and was dying. The kids were all crying except the oldest - he was yelling at the kids who were crying presumably because they were "scaring the dog" - and I moved straight into my "this is part of the circle of life, all of God's creatures are here only for a short time, yada, yada, yada...." speech. Meanwhile I'm thinking, "One down, twelve to go!" Yes, we have 13 pets. And we're caring for two more for some friends who are away. It's literally a zoo around here. Anyway, we took her to the vet to have her put down. It's the humane thing to do when an animal is suffering and certainly she was suffering, right? So we get to the vet and he asks "So, what's happening here?" I was hoping that he wouldn't ask a lot of questions. I was hoping that he would just come into the room with the needle, do the deed and let me go home. But no. "So, what's happening here?" he says with a smile and a pat on the dog's head. So I told him. And does he agree with my diagnosis of stroke and subsequent paralysis resulting in a terrible quality of life for the poor dog???? Noooooooo, of course not. He takes one look at her eyes and asks, "Does she have a history of ear infections?" To which No. 1 son pipes up, "Oh yeah, all the time." Dr. Vet says "Hmm, well it may be..." and launches into an explanation filled with 8 syllable words which ended with "...treat her with an antibiotic for a week and that should do the trick." I'm nodding and smiling throughout thinking, "S*&t, we're taking her back home again, aren't we?" Yes, I swear in my thoughts. Forgive me.
So $118.00 and an hour and a half later we're back home with a pocket full of pill bottles and Ginger's a flippin' hero and everyone's oohing and aahing and petting and loving and right now, as I write this, No. 1 daughter is sitting on the bedroom floor next to Ginger hand feeding her. Hand feeding. That dog has been pet, hugged, squeezed and cried over so much today her fur is coming out. She's probably thinking that she has died and gone to doggy-heaven. This devoted daughter of mine, whom yesterday I could not even pay to take the dogs for a walk, keeps coming out and telling me about the plans she's devised to help Ginger to walk if she doesn't get her legs under her again. Which she might not, she might have arthritis as well as an inner ear infection. Her plans involve a sling type thing which we hold while she walks with her front legs and/or a wheeled cart to put under her back end. sigh. How long is Christmas break? And when are the Browns coming to collect their vinal-siding eating, dirt flinging, bark at everything that moves dogs?!?!
Bless you all and Merry Christmas!!!!
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Well, here it is folks, my first blog. And wouldn't you know, I can't think of a thing to say! I know some of you are saying, "What?!?? Martha with nothing to say? Can't be! Can't think of a single day when Martha had nothing to say!" Well, believe it. The kids are Mom, Mom, Mom-ing me and I can't think of anything to say except "Shut up!!!!!!!" which, of course, I'm not going to say to my precious muffins because that might damage their self-esteem, right?
Ok, now I've got something to say. David just barreled into the den with a dart gun (nerf), a pair of scissors and a roll of blue masking tape. And a flashlight. He had a plan. And he needed me to be his cohort. I do so love to be named cohort! We carefully taped the flashlight to the top of the dart gun so that he can....well... I'm not entirely sure what he plans to do. I guess I should have asked about his plans. I was concentrating so hard on the task that I forgot to ask about the reason behind what we were doing. Have you ever done that? Just pour yourself into doing something and you have no idea why you're doing it? Or if you even want to be doing it? Or if you even should be doing it? Get totally lost in the operation without having any clue about the objective. I do this all too often. And I bet that if I spent more time checking in with my Heavenly Father about His plans for me, I'd waste a lot less time! What do you think?
Ok, now I've got something to say. David just barreled into the den with a dart gun (nerf), a pair of scissors and a roll of blue masking tape. And a flashlight. He had a plan. And he needed me to be his cohort. I do so love to be named cohort! We carefully taped the flashlight to the top of the dart gun so that he can....well... I'm not entirely sure what he plans to do. I guess I should have asked about his plans. I was concentrating so hard on the task that I forgot to ask about the reason behind what we were doing. Have you ever done that? Just pour yourself into doing something and you have no idea why you're doing it? Or if you even want to be doing it? Or if you even should be doing it? Get totally lost in the operation without having any clue about the objective. I do this all too often. And I bet that if I spent more time checking in with my Heavenly Father about His plans for me, I'd waste a lot less time! What do you think?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)