Our Pet Ralph

Signs of Spring in TX.

That appointment.

Okay, I have a confession to make,

I have not been in for that check-up in a while, a very long while.

9 years actually. It is no coincidence that my last child is 9. I believe the last time I went in for that appointment was my 6 week postpartum check-up.

My doctor finally threatened to come to my house. Okay, not really, but she has been nagging incessantly. Truly; my kids have nothing on this lady.

So I made the appointment. It is in one month.

I have one month to fret and worry and freak out and then live in denial, and then fret and worry and freak out and then live in denial; lather, rinse, repeat. What can I say, it is my process.

I HATE that appointment! I think I may have found something I'd rather do less than get up on stage with my sister.

It's a foreign language

'He high sided on the first turn berm and cased the jump!'

This is a sentence I heard coming from the commentator last night while my men were watching Motocross on TV.

The sad part? I completely understood it.

Lord have mercy, I speak Motocross.

Please tell me those are temporary.

If you send your 9 year old daughter to a cousin’s sleepover at her grandma’s house and in a sugar induced fit of madness, she puts on no less than 17 temporary tattoos all over her person, including her face, don’t panic.

A little baby oil and some cotton balls will take them right off.

Hypothetically speaking of course.

Good News

It was starting to look like I might loose my carpool for next year. That would mean I‘d have to drive downtown 4 days a week. This usually takes up at least 3 hours a day, right in the middle of the day. I would have to do this while also homeschooling three other kids.

I am also teaching two classes at the co op; a Book Club class and a Presidents class. I am also now doing %98 of the parenting and household stuff since Sir D is snowed under, working 12 hour days and Saturdays. Sir D’s work schedule will gradually ease up to a reasonable level, but for the next few months it going to be hard.

Wondering what the good news is yet?

First of all, Ann no longer sounds like she is dying and her bloody eyes are clearing up, and no one else seems to have caught Whooping Cough, so you know, health is always a bonus.

Also, I just learned today that all the 2nd year Dyslexia Lab students will be attending class at the same time. That means a CARPOOL! WHoo Hoo!

You know the phrase Thank God for small favors? Well this was a BIG favor and I am definitely thanking God!

Weird Comments

I am sorry to say I've had to change my settings so that you must have a Blogger account to post a comment.

I hate to do it, because I know people who don't have a blog themselves sometimes like to read and comment on them.

I do have the annoying word verification thingy on so I thought that would keep me from getting spammed but I guess not.

I have had to delete two very long and weird comments in the last week so I have changed my settings to not allow any anonymous comments.

If you want to comment and can't please know it is nothing personal. I'd love to hear from you! You can get a Blogger account without actually having a blog and then you can comment!

Sorry for the inconvenience. A few always seem to ruin the fun for the many.

Where's Waldo Angela?

Sir D and I were sitting in our living room watching the 9:00 news a few nights ago, minding our own business, when who should pop up on my television screen?

My very own sister.

Because I am terribly eloquent and have an innate talent for stating the obvious, I said to Sir D, “Hay! There’s my sister!”

It’s weird to be closely related to such talent. She’s also the Fireman in the Barney: Let’s go to the Firehouse video if you want to check it out.

This is not the first time that has happened either. I saw her on the TV in a gas station in the middle of nowhere South Texas on vacation once. I just stood there staring at the TV. They guy behind the counter said “um, can I help you?”

I looked at him and said “that is my sister” he smiled warily and took my money and handed me my coke zero.

My sister and I look nothing alike, and well, I think he thought I was nuts.
It’s like being related to Waldo of ‘Where’s Waldo’ fame. You never know where she’ll pop up.

It’s funny that we’re sisters and yet so different. She likes acting and being on stage. Me? I think I’d rather chew my arm off.

I’ll stick to my writing thankyouverymuch. And I’ll only do it if no one is watching.

A Dragon! A Dragon! I swear I saw a Dragon!

***If you're coming here from Heart of the Matter, this post was posted last week, but I entered it in today's Meme anyway. It is such a great book! My kids loved it and I wanted to enter it, even though the post is a week old.

Have a lovely day, and feel free to refresh the page after you read it for more recent posts.***


Today we’re having a slow day. The boys have some extra curricular stuff they want to do, like install a stereo into Will’s truck. The girls are both coughing and Eve has a fever of 101. So we’re keeping it light.

The boys are going in and out and saying things like ‘wires’ and ‘tools’ and ‘amps’ and other things that are not really in my vocabulary.

The girls and I are reading the book The Reluctant Dragon by Kenneth Grahame. What a great book! We’re half way through it. Neither one of them really feels like doing much more than lying around so I’m trying to redeem the day by reading. A mind can only take so much Sponge Bob before it turns to mush so I feel that our choice of The Reluctant Dragon was a good one. The language in this little gem is beautiful.

Here is an excerpt…

What the Boy had feared however soon came to pass. The most modest and retiring dragon in the world, if he’ s as big as four cart horses and covered with blue scales, cannot keep altogether out of the public view. And so in the village tavern of nights the fact that a real live dragon sat brooding in the cave on the Downs was naturally a subject for talk. Though the villagers were extremely frightened, they were rather proud as well. It was a distinction to have a dragon of your own and it was felt to be a feather in the cap of the village. Still, all were agreed that this sort of thing couldn’t be allowed to go on. The dreadful beast must me exterminated, the countryside must be freed from the pest, this terror, this destroying scourge. The fact that not even a henroost was the worse for the dragon’s arrival wasn’t allowed to have anything to do with it. He was a dragon, and he couldn’t deny it, and if he didn’t choose to behave as such that was his own lookout. But in spite of much valiant talk no hero was found willing to take sword and spear and free the suffering village and win deathless fame; and each night’s heated discussion always ended in nothing. Meanwhile the dragon, a happy Bohemian, lolled on the turf, enjoyed the sunsets, and told antediluvian anecdotes to the Boy, and polished his old verses while meditating on fresh ones.

Is not that just lovely? I love it. Surely that overrides all the Sponge Bob, right?

The things my kids say…

Ann – “Daddy, how come you can speak Spanish, when you’ve never been to China?”

The rest of us – “Huh?”

I’ll never understand what goes on in that girls head.

Don't get between a man and his parking spot.

Today we will not speak of Whooping Cough or Algebra; though I still think both of the devil.

Today we’re going to talk about testosterone. It is a scary thing.

Sir D and I went out to dinner last night to discuss Will and his educational issue, which we are not going to talk about today on this blog.

Sir D has been working LONG hours at work. He is now in management and one of the people under him has been giving him pickled fits. It has been very stressful for him. He also has a cold and is just a little run down. Things have also been a bit stressful at home what with things from the devil and all.

We pull into the parking lot of a local Don Pablo’s Mexican restaurant. Normally Sir D will not go to a chain Mexican restaurant. We live in DFW, finding an authentic little hole in the wall Mexican place is not hard, but we were going for close-by and so that is where we went. Now I must say that the shirts they make their waiters wear should be considered criminal. Maybe that is why they were short on wait staff, I would starve before I’d wear that shirt, but I digress.

There we are, circling the parking lot, looking for a place to park. Sir D sees someone walking to their car and follows them; he waits off to the side to take their place when they leave. As we were waiting someone pulls up to the other side of where the car is pulling out and aims to take the space, but Sir D pulls in first; we had been waiting.

The guy in the little sports car started honking at us. He was not happy. He must not have seen us waiting (although we were in a king cab truck, kinda hard to miss) and thought we’d taken his spot.

Sir D was not in the mood to be pushed around by some ‘Punk Kid in Daddy’s car’. The Punk Kid rolled down his window presumably to shout unpleasant things at us. Sir D (who is not a small guy) hops out of the car and marches very quickly over to Punk Kid and his girlfriend, who are still sitting in the car.

If it wasn’t so embarrassing, it would have been comical. Punk Kid yelled “Hay!” at Sir D, in a deep, nasty tone. By the time Sir D made it to the car the kid’s tone had changed significantly. The kid said “Um, had you been waiting for that spot?” in a squeaky voice.

“Yeah, I had been, long before you pulled up” Sir D said in his deep voice.

“Oh, um, sorry” said the kid.

He and his girlfriend then drove off, looking a bit scared.

I sat in the truck shaking my head. When Sir D returned I asked him why he did that. Why didn’t he just let the kid and his girlfriend have the spot, or ignore the honking at the very least?

Sir D said “This is Texas, that boy’s gonna get himself shot if he keeps that up. I was just teaching him a lesson. And I’m not in the mood to be pushed around by some little Punk Kid showing off for his girlfriend”

Testosterone. It is a mighty powerful thing.

I think I'll settle for average after-all.

It's seems Will's tutor has reached her limit. She is done with him. I can't say I blame her.

I am trying to have some perspective. This morning, after I talked to her I got angry, then I cried, then I went outside on my deck and sat in the sunshine and took it to the Lord.

After the Lord and I had a good talk, (okay, I mostly talked and He mostly listened) I had an idea that I think was inspired. I came up with a way to get through this. I needed some advice from an acquaintance first though, so I called her. She is a wonderful lady who has/is raising 4 boys. 2 are out of the house, 2 are still at home being homeschooled.

Talking to her helped me immensely. She had some real wisdom to share with me. I needed to hear it.

We have a plan, we know where to go from here. The world did not stop spinning, but it is not going as I had planned. Will's schooling is not going to end up the way I thought it would. Turns out, he's not a rocket scientist or a Rhodes scholar. He's an average student. Why is that bad?

My friend said something to me that really stopped me in my tracks. She said, no one wants their kids to be average. We want them to either be above average, or we want a reason why they're not; like ADD, ADHD, Dyslexia or whatever. If there is a reason for them not to be above average, okay. But if their is not, well they better excel.

Here is the thing, average is average. It's not bad, it's not bottom of the barrel, it's in the middle.

I am not suggesting we settle for mediocrity and I don't think she was either, but the point is, to be above average in everything might just be a little more pressure than a 16 year old boy can handle.

I'm listening God.

And just in case you were wondering, I now not only think Whooping Cough is from the devil, but so is algebra!

Office of Parental Revocation

Could someone please tell me where I need to go to turn in my parenting card? I do believe it has been revoked. If not, it should be.

Will failed his algebra test today. Sadly this is not the first time. The thing is, it was an OPEN BOOK test. How does one fail an open book test? Not only did he fail it, but he seemed surprised that he failed. He told me he thought he did well on it. So again, how does one fail an OPEN BOOK test and not even know it? His tutor is going to call me tonight. I can feel her judgment. I know she must be wondering what kind of parents we are.

I also got a call from the head of the Dyslexia lab about Ann. Ann forgot to give the note I sent, to her teacher. Ann currently looks awful. While she is clean and polished and her hair is done and her clothes are clean, matching, and appropriate to the season, she still looks like no one is taking care of her.

She is still coughing, and now one of her eyes is all bloody. She burst a blood vessel in her eye coughing so much. The Dr. said it was no big deal; it will go away on its own. But it just looks awful.

Also, she’s going around telling everyone she has Whooping Cough. And let me tell you, she looks like she has some sort of previously-thought-to-be-eradicated childhood disease.

So the director was understandably concerned when she heard Ann saying she had Whooping Cough and there was no explanation from mom. I had to explain to her when she called, that yes, it was most likely Whooping Cough, though it had not been confirmed through testing because the lab tech did not take a sufficient swab of her nasal passages when we schlepped all the way downtown on a Saturday morning to get this joyful little procedure done. And that even if it was confirmed, she is no longer contagious so says the Dr. that we have seen no less than 3 times in 2 weeks. Although, yes she probably was contagious for whooping cough earlier when I was indeed sending her to class, because the Dr. assured me, at that time, that it was just allergies and she was okay to go to school.

Just call me Mary, Typhoid Mary.

So if someone could please direct me to the Office of Parental Revocation, I’d appreciate it. Or you know, if any one else would like to lodge a complaint against my parenting technique, or complain about one of my children, please take a number.

Still Whoopin It Up.

Still cough, cough coughing.

Still hack, hack, hacking.

Still gasp, gasp, gasping.

Still wheeze, wheeze, wheezing.

These are still the sounds of my life.

I still think Whooping Cough is from the devil.


We're off to see the wizard doctor again today. 4th time in three weeks if you count the Children's Hospital.

All I can say is, just be glad germs don't travel through cyberspace. My website may be germ free but I assure you my home is teeming with them.

This and That, Here and There

I have to drive downtown to run the Scotthis Rite carpool today. For a while we (the carpool) were paying a guy and his wife to drive for us. They were a really sweet couple with two darling preschoolers. They decided to become missionaries.

Humm? Is driving 3 3rd graders that bad? Apparently it is, they felt they needed to flee the country.

Oh, they said it was a calling from God, but I wonder.

So here I am today, getting ready to drive the carpool downtown. On the upside, we are listening to Henry Huggins in the car to keep the kids quiet for their entertainment. I forgot how much I enjoy that little guy.

Ann has her end of year testing today. I am praying that they’ll take one look at her test results, declare her cured of all dyslexia and send her home, never to return.

What?

It could happen!

I guess I aught to go get dressed. I don’t think they would appreciate me showing up in my robe, though it would serve them right for requiring me to be there before noon.

Enjoy your day. It’s going to be a beautiful one here. 72 and sunny with a little breeze. But don’t worry, we’ll get our just desserts this summer when it’s 572 degrees with %130 humidity. I won’t be bragging then.

I'm Working! I'm Working!

I have a confession to make. I can often be found in my bathrobe in the morning. There is nothing especially shocking about that except that I have been known to stay this way until 8 or 11.

It’s not that I am lying around, really. I get up and we do Bible, and then I get the kids going on school, then someone needs help, then Will needs me to work with him on his paper, then Ann needs me to do her Scottish Rite homework with her then, what? it’s noon and I’m still in my robe. Not because I’ve been lazing around you see, but because I’ve been to busy to shower and get dressed!

The problem is where I live. I live in a community across from a major missionary base. It is a wonderful neighborhood where everyone knows everyone else; the kids all play together and I really can (and have) borrow an egg from a neighbor. It has all the benefits of a commune, without the polygamy, unfortunate fashion choices, braded hair and brainwashing.

But see the thing is, people stop by in the morning sometimes; they want to give me something one of my kids left at their house or borrow some sugar or an egg, and I am still in my bathrobe.

I PROMISE I am working hard! I am not watching the morning shows and eating cinnamon buns. I only do that in the summer don't do that! REALLY!

Whoopin' it up.

Cough, cough cough.

Hack, hack, hack.

Gasp, gasp, gasp.

Wheeze, wheeze, wheeze.

These are the sounds of my life.

I think Whooping Cough is from the devil.

They have WHAT?

Perhaps it is somewhat unwise to say things like ‘For all that is good and holy, just BE SICK for goodness sake.’

It seems we have whooping cough around here. Yes you read that right; whooping Cough. Also known as Pertussis. That is one of those childhood diseases that we got our children immunized for.

Yeah, that worked well.

So back when I made this comment, ’It sounds like every person in my house has consumption, tuberculosis and a two pack a day smoking habit!’ it seems I was not too far off the mark. We have the only 1920’s illness I did not mention. Pertussis.

I do believe when I heard this, the words ‘You’ve got to be joking’ came out of my mouth.

I’m afraid it is no joke.

Shingles, head lice, (don’t ask, it was horrible) broken jaws, asthma attacks and now Whooping Cough.

Also in the last several weeks we’ve replaced a broken hot water heater, a broken dishwasher, fixed cars, had a car accident, replaced a couch and Sir D’s cell phone broke, and Sir D has taken on a new position that has him AWOL from home.

And did I mention my children have Pertussis?


UNCLE!

I LOVE a Fiesta!

The following is a re post from October. I am sad to admit, I am still wearing the same shirts, carrying the exact same bag, and wearing the exact same flats.

The shirts are now short sleeves however, and the jeans are now shorts or Capris. But the overall appearance is the same. I am boring. I think I am scared of print. D0 they have a 12 step program for this?

For instance, I bought this shirt from Old Navy.

It is cute, and it fits, but I put it on and then before I leave the hosue, I take it off. It is too loud.

I think I need fashion therapy.

However, I did buy these shoes as well as the black and white one's below and they match with everything! (Except the above shirt. I do know that much)

I LOVE them. I get lots of complement on my fun shoes, but I think that next to all the bland solid colors, the pattern on my feet draws the eye away,and that is totally okay with me. My feet have not added nearly the inches that the rest of me has. So, yeah, look at my cool shoes. See how skinny my feet look in them!




****The Following is a repost from October***


I went to Target today. I shouldn’t have because that store is a giant cash eating black hole for me, but I did it.

I bought my winter wardrobe. I am hoping that if I spend money on warmer clothes, I’ll actually have a chance to wear them.

So here is what I bought. I am so boring. This is just the long sleeve version of my summer wardrobe. And instead of jeans, in the summer, I’m in jean shorts. WHOO HOO! Such a fashionista I am!

I did buy a multicolored striped purse and some flats that had some pattern in them (I can’t tell you how happy I am that flats are back!!!) but for the most part, everything I own is a solid color.

Here are a few of the things I bought.

They had this shirt on sale so I bought a few more in various colors; one can never have too many solid colored T’s in TX.

Then I bought several colors of this, just like above, but note the longer sleeves.

I did go a little crazy and get this version with a peter pan color, but I bought it in black so I can wear it to church.


And let's not forget the must-have hoodie. (AKA a sweatshirt if you're over 18.) I do own a nice coat to wear to church on the 3 Sunday's a year that it is necessary, but mostly I just wear this. I also have a nice crocheted sweater, but well, that is harder to wash, so I stick with the old standby. Could I get any duller? Hello grey, my old friend!

I think if my sister in laws knew I was buying more solid colored shirts they‘d have a fit. Someone has to be the plane jane in the family, and I take that position very seriously!

Lawsey Mercy people. The coughing!

It sounds like every person in my house has consumption, tuberculosis and a two pack a day smoking habit!

And it’s been like this for weeks. They just cough and cough and cough. I’ve taken some of them to the doctor and he tells me they just have a little spring cold.

Spring cold my foot, they’re dying of consumption!

All night long; cough, cough, cough.

We have humidifiers running, which was really funny to me last night as the rain was coming down in sheets and we are using a handy dandy little machine to humidify our air. Brilliant! We have purchased enough cough drops to supply an army. We have propped them up, given them herbal, throat soothing teas, and NyQuil. Nothing will stop the incessant coughing! I’m about ready to try a hot toddy!

No one has fevers, no one has green snot, no one is even feeling all that bad other than a complaint of a raw throat now and them. It is that horrible sorta sick place.

For all that is good and holy, just BE SICK for goodness sake.

Or stop coughing. One or the other, please! It’s not so hard; be sick or be well.

But LORD HAVE MERCY, stop the coughing!


***If you're entering my blog on this page only, click refresh and go to the most recent posts. You'll see waht all the coughing was about***

The Tyranny of the Urgent

I tend to get a little stressed out in April and May of every school year. Some mom’s get stressed this time of year because they start thinking; the kids, they are going to be home all summer with nothing to do!

Me? I am thinking the kids; they are going to be home all summer with nothing to do! I can’t WAIT! By the time we get to the end of the school year, I am overwhelmed with meeting all the deadlines and expectations of other people.

I was reading over Sally Clarkson’s Educating The Wholehearted Child today and I thought what happened? THIS is how I meant for our homeschool to look and feel. This was my aim. How did we suddenly find ourselves so far off the mark?

All the things that sounded like such a good idea when we signed up for them in September have become an evil and unbending taskmaster. Every class my kids are enrolled in at co op is having some sort of year end event; science fairs, plays, term papers, end of year parties, award nights, daddy-daughter dances, class projects, you name it, we’re a part of it. How did this happen? We were so careful!

All those things are getting done, but sadly, nothing else is. We’ve not had a decent meal in a week. The laundry is piling up. The house is a mess, Mom is frazzles. Nothing I want them to do is getting done because all the things others want them to do come first.

I don’t like this. I did not sign up to homeschool my kids only to have the schedule dictated by others. And yet, here we are.

I know it is the time of year. Everything does not necessarily start at the same time, but it is all ending at the same time.

I need to reread this post in September when I am signing my kids up for classes and church activities and remember I don’t like how it ends! I want to educate my children, ME. I want to set the tone and schedule.

I don’t want to find myself here in April and May next year saying things like, “no honey, we don’t have time for a story, you’ve got to get x y and z done for Mrs. So and So.

I’m learning. By the time they all graduate, I’ll have this homeschooling thing down pat!

Let us consider...

This was the quote of the day on my igoogle page.

I have no idea who this guy is, but what a hilarious observation! This totally cracked me up.

I like an escalator because an escalator can never break, it can only become stairs. There would never be an escalator temporarily out of order sign, only an escalator temporarily stairs. Sorry for the convenience.
- Mitch Hedberg

Music and Stuff

Go check THIS out.

It's free worship music, and BooMama Says it's good. BooMama knows her music stuff!

Don't Be That Guy!

How to make the punishment fit the crime when the crime is just being a jerk?

I love my kids, really, with all my heart and I take my job as their mother very seriously. I like to use reality discipline whenever possible. (Actually, I like to use no discipline, but we don’t live in a perfect world, and sadly my offspring did not come out of the womb obedient.)

Yesterday Will and Bob went to guitar lessons and then to the Wal-mart to pick up something for the Momma because I was too lazy busy. While they were running this errand for me, Will treated his brother like a jerk.

There is really no other way to say it. I was very disappointed in Will. I was sad. Why would he do that?

I told him that was crappy and he was acting like a real jerk (yes, I used the words crappy and jerk! Those are 4 letter words around here and the girls’ eyes bugged out of their heads when Momma said Crappy and Jerk!)

I told him he was not ‘that guy’. Don’t be ‘that guy’.

Sigh, disciplining teens is hard. I feel like he needed to be thunked in the head while I yelled ‘what were you thinking’ at him, but I don’t think that would be appropriate or effective.

So, how does one discipline for jerk-like behavior? I was thinking of making him take Bob to a movie Saturday night instead of going to the youth group function, but if his attitude stinks about it, it is kinda like punishing Bob. I could just go the old fashioned rout and ground him, but that seems to just instill bitterness in him.

I want a contrite heart. Any suggestions? Other than military school in Mongolia, cus we can’t afford that.

Cookies Make The World Go Round.

Well, it looks like I am going to be on the Children’s Sunday School committee, because clearly I am insane. I should be on medication. Can anyone say glutton for punishment?

Why oh why won’t the Lord let me run and hide? Why do I have to be on a committee with people who have hurt me in the past? People who’ve shunned my child because of her allergy?

And I don’t really like committees. I am a worker bee. Give me a job and I’ll do it, but I don’t want to plan and organize and recruit and tell others what to do. I don’t like to be the leader. I am a total follower.

I think the Lord is trying to grow and stretch me. I don’t like to grow and stretch. Sigh.

The first committee meeting is in two weeks. So I have two weeks to fret.

Sir D suggested I show up at the first committee meeting with cookies. In Sir D’s world, cookies solve all problems. I think I might actually do it. You know, buy them off with sweets. Sounds like a good plan to me.

(Anyone else see the irony there? Buying off the SS committee with snacks because they won't stop serving snacks in SS? hehehehe)

Pet Peeve

Today here on the hilltop we’re going to discuss a pet peeve of mine. We’re not going to talk about the fact that the lady from the Children’s Sunday School committee didn’t show up for our meeting. We’re not going to talk about how frustrated I am that I can’t seem to get anyone’s attention, and that Ann’s safety is of little concern to the powers that be at my church. We’re not going to talk about that fact that I have admitted temporary defeat and Ann and I are just going to stay home for a few weeks until I stop simmering and can come up with a solution that does not involve me constantly shadowing her everywhere for the rest of my natural born days because my church thinks Jesus goes down better with snacks, or her throat closing up resulting in her dying in Sunday School.

Nope, not gonna talk about any of those things.

What we are going to talk about is the fact that my debit card won’t let me put more than $75 worth of gas in the Mother Ship at a time. At $3.37 a gallon, $75 does not fill up the Mother Ship.

I want to stop for gas as few times as possible, but my debit card won’t let me fill up. And yes, that is the card that takes my money directly out of my bank account, that is mine because I (Sir D, actually) have earned it and it is not a credit or a loan from anyone, but my very own money in my very own account.

But somehow the Visa Company still gets to decide I can only have $75 at a time at the gas station. Weird, because they allow me to spend 4 times that when I’m in the grocery store, but outside at the gas station attached to the grocery store I can only spend $75 of what I may have mentioned is my money.

Thank you for listening to my peeve about Visa Debt Card policies…and stuff. Please feel free to leave me a comment telling me what your peeve is, it is quite cathartic to get it out.

Tiny Bubbles...

Oh, Please say it ain't so!

Apparently, the bubble is back.

Can you believe this? This is from Chadwick's!



And this from Nordstroms.


I am so sad and scared.

I think I wore this exact dress to some sort of dance/prom thing in Junior High School.



Do we learn nothing from our past mistakes? Are we always destined to repeat them?

The Bubble Skirt, really?

Twins?

I had a nightmare last night. I found out I was having twin girls.

It was one of those weird sort of dreams that happens in flashes. First I was telling Sir D we were going to have twin girls.

Then I was HUGE pregnant.

Then I had these two babies in car seats I was trying to carry everywhere. Their names were Elinor and Margaret. We called them Maggie and Elly. (Too much Jane Austin perhaps?)

From there it was one scene after another of me trying to hold two cute curly haired, 6 month old fat babies on each hip and grocery shop, and teach my co op class, and school the kids, and go to church, and cook.

I woke up exhausted.

The funny thing is, where in the heck was my family? I remember the other kids in the dream but none were helping and Sir D was absent from the dream altogether except for when I told him we were going to have twins.

Hummm?

Perhaps I am feeling a bit overwhelmed with life right now? Sir D is working LONG hours with his new position. I didn't think I was that overwhelmed, but let me tell you, a pair of 6 month old girls, no matter how cute, would most definitely send me over the edge!

I can't tell you the relief I experienced when I woke up to my house of NO TWIN BABIES!

Salmon Says...

I have a meeting this Friday afternoon about Ann and Sunday School. It’s going to be a tough one I think. At least it is at Starbucks. Disappointment goes down a bit better with a frappuccino.

We’ve had trouble with Ann and our church since she was 2. It has been a long road.

For those of you new to my little piece of the World Wide Web, Ann has a fatal allergy to all dairy. It is kinda of a trick to keep her safe when apparently, God’s Word can not be taught without a tasty object lesson of some sort.

For the last year there has been a wonderful lady on the Sunday School committee who had been my advocate. She tweaked some things so Ann’s class would be safe for her. And if she couldn’t, she’d simply email me in advance and let me know what weeks there would be food and we’d stay home that Sunday and do home church.

She has moved on to other ministries. Sigh. We’re back to square one.

I am hoping the lady I am talking too on Friday will be sympathetic, but I’m not holding my breath. I could jump in, join the committee and do it all myself, but there are some reasons why that would be hard and awkward. I won’t name them all, but it’d be a bit like being the single republican at a democratic caucus. I’m not that brave.

I have to admit that a large part of me wants to give up. It has just been SO hard at the church we attend. I know every church has problems because every church is made up of people, and all of us people have that darn sin nature, but something in me thinks that this issue would be easier elsewhere.

The problem is that we have two teen boys who LOVE church, they Love their youth pastor and consequently I do too. He is a great man with lots of Godly wisdom. I don’t want to pull the boys away from that, but I am not sure how much more I can take with Ann and the allergy situation.



I feel like a salmon swimming up stream. I’ve been doing it for 7 years and I’m a bit tired.

Beware the 1st of April!

I thought you all might like to know that I have not fallen off the face of the earth.

My parents were here visiting this weekend, then on Monday I had to drive Ann and her carpool downtown to the Scottish Rite Dyslexia Lab School. When I came home and could finally blog, no Internet access! UGH!

We had some big bad storms blow through, typical Texas spring day, but it threw out our Internet.

So, the storms are gone, the Internet is up, I have a sort of quite minute (the kids are in the back room playing a geography game) and I have really, nothing to say today, except...

Watch out! It's April Fools Day Y'all, and that day is just downright dangerous in this family.

I feel a bit like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.