She did it!

Heather got her drivers license today. She was so excited she could barely contain herself. I was invited to sit in the backseat for the drive home, so she could experience the thrill of "driving" without an adult in the front seat. She smiled and giggled the whole way home.

We pulled into the driveway and Heather ran next door to show her license to the neighbors. It's nice to see Heather so happy about driving. I bet I'll get at least a couple months of her running errands for me, before the excitement begins to wear off.

The library: I just can't stay away.

Yesterday I was trying to run errands but found myself doing the same things over and over. I was stuck in an endless loop and couldn't escape....Like a nightmare you just can't wake up from. So there I was, back at the library for the THIRD time that day. The lady behind the desk looked up at me with a confused/surprised expression on her face. (Yes, you have seen me before...)

"Have you been here the whole day?" she asked me quizically, with a pitying expression on her face. Maybe she pictured me eating a sack lunch in one of the bathroom stalls. And I'm trying to decide which was worse---making three trips to the library or spending the day there. So I just smiled...Either way, it doesn't make me look good.

Should I feel bad about beating the crap out of the wasp?

Nick was in the basement playing the drumset and I went down to tell him it was time to eat. I was barefoot and not paying any attention to where I was walking. Suddenly it felt like I stepped on a needle or something. I yanked my foot up, waiting for the pain to disappear---but it didn't. Then I saw that I'd been stung by a wasp lying on the floor, right on the arch of my foot.

Man, it hurt! I feel bad because whenever my kids get stung, I tell them to suck it up and quit over-reacting. But it hurt for a long time. I sat down and grabbed one of Nick's shoes and started beating the crud out of the wasp, the whole time screaming at the top of my lungs, until there was nothing left of the wasp but tiny bits.

My son stopped playing when he noticed my foot had started to swell. "I wondered what you were doing," he exclaimed, after I told him what had happened. See, this is the part that is the most disconcerting. There I was screaming and banging a shoe on the ground for several minutes and my son found this behavior perfectly normal. I guess I need to mellow out a bit so that in the future, it will be more obvious when I find myself in need of assistance...

These are not my hands.

I was driving the other day and looked down at my hands. I could barely concentrate on driving as I kept staring at my hands, thinking, "Whoa, those are so not my hands." First of all, when did my hands get switched with old people hands and second, why did I not notice this was happening?

There are brown age spots on my hands which must certainly belong to my mother or even my grandmother. All I know is that they sure as heck don't belong to me. At first I thought I'd just wait for them to magically change back, but deep down I have the sinking feeling that 1) they will never change back, 2) I'm stuck with them forever and 3) I have been betrayed by my hands.

I've done the denial and anger, so I guess the last step is acceptance. I just need to admit it: I have old lady hands. Okay. Not that I expected to, but I don't feel any better now and have nothing more to say about my old, spotted wrinkly hands. Except this: fair warning, if anyone tries to switch out anymore body parts for old lady ones, I'll be VERY VERY angry.

Follow Me Boys

Brian went with the scouts on a 10-mile hike this weekend to start getting them ready for a 50-mile hike this summer. I don't think they were prepared for the 18 degree weather they had during the night. It was a long, cold night spent awake searching in the dark for wood and standing by the fire trying to stay warm.

The next afternoon Nicholas and Brian came home exhausted with chapped lips and sunburned faces from staying so close to the fire. Nicholas went straight to bed and slept 20 hours to recover.

Things about scouts I learned from this trip:

A scout is strong...carrying their backpack 10-miles on a hike without complaining but afterwards leaves it sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor hoping it will unpack itself.

A scout is kind...and lets their mom and sisters eat the rest of their trail mix.

A scout brave...except when it comes to using any kind of chapstick.

A scout is trustworthy...but can't wait to tell everyone at church about how their scout leader (Brian) fell into the creek.

A scout is clean...yet wears the same clothes for the entire weekend camp out.

When they sold us the car they forgot to show us the secret handshake...

For some reason we had a hard time finding a Honda Fit. When Sarah started driving and it was time to buy a third car, the Fit seemed like the perfect choice. To our dismay, it took us several months to locate one and we finally ended up driving to Parkersburg (1 1/2 hours away) to buy it. In the Bridgeport/Clarksburg area we have seen only 2 other Fits driving around---another silver "twin" and an orange one. For this reason, and perhaps because we're strange like this, we always get very excited when we see another Fit driving down the street. It feels like we should have some special "honk the horn/flash the lights/turn on the windshield wipers" thing every time we pass another Fit. But then I feel silly, "it's probably just us," I think.

Sarah usually drives the Fit, but the other day Brian and I drove it over to the Post Office. Walking into the parking lot we stopped when we noticed THE OTHER SILVER FIT, also at the post office. It felt oddly like a family reunion and we had to force ourselves to stop staring and return to our own car. And then THE OTHER SILVER FIT OWNER came out and stood by his car. We felt foolish and looked away. We knew it was just us, but peeked over at him again anyway. He started waving---he pointed at our car---back again at his car---waved again and put his thumb up. All with a big grin on his face.

Driving home, Brian and I were laughing, relieved that it wasn't one of those one-sided relationships...and then it hit us. We had just missed a perfect opportunity to create some kind of Fit Wave or Fit Secret Handshake...Next time, we'll be prepared.

Little People, London, Hickeys, and Strep: a Week in Review

It's been a busy week. Nancy came and took the kids away. But every day we find little reminders that they were here with us. Like today I put on my shoes and found a little people hiding inside each one. Brian came home from a week in London. He visited all the usual tourist type places including Abbey road and King's Cross Station. Oddly there wasn't a platform 9 (or 9 3/4).

Heather had All-State Orchestra this weekend and another 3 full days of playing her violin. I'm not sure how she found out, but she said that all of the first 10 chairs in the first violin section also sported a violin hickey (she was 10th chair 1st violin). This time, at Steve's request, I took a picture of her hickey. A special note for anyone reading this: I will not be impressed or excited by your hickey. I am not in any way, shape, or form recommending or encouraging hickeys. Unless, however, it is a violin hickey. In which case, Heather and I would like to be the first to congratulate you.

Nick and Sarah were both sick this week, but hopefully are now recovered from strep throat. I've let the rest of the kids know, in no uncertain terms they are not allowed to get sick, as I've no burning desire to return to the doctor anytime soon. Wow, what an exciting week we've had. I can only hope this coming week isn't quite as exciting. I could stand a few days of boring.

Swapping spit with a stranger. Not so glamorous.

When is close too close? A guy at the doctor's office was talking to me. He was spitting at me as he talked and the spit was landing on my lips. I was sitting on a chair and couldn't move any farther away from him, although I tried several times. I was trapped. Trapped with his spit dripping off my lips. It was almost like I was paralyzed. I didn't want to wipe it off onto my hand because then I would have his spit on my lips and my hand. If I moved to get up and get a tissue, it would quite possibly start dripping down my face. If I screamed for him to back away (like I wanted to) the spit would start oozing into my mouth. So I sat as still as I could, eyes closed, pretending to sleep and the man eventually stopped speaking to me.

I'm home now. I don't think there is enough Listerine in the world to make me feel better. I just feel dirty. I mean ewwwwwwww! doesn't seem to do the experience justice. But I'll lie down for a couple of minutes and be happy that I'm healthy and alive (without a strangers spit balancing precariously in little gobs all over my lips...and I'll be fine.

Give or take 24 hours...

I was so proud of myself yesterday. At the very last moment I realized that Heather had forgotten her violin and would need it to get to her first All-state practice at noon that day. I still couldn't believe she hadn't called, as I drove over to the school and ran into the high school office. I was in a panic, knowing she would be late and explained that I needed them to call Heather to the office. The lady I talked to didn't think she'd gotten a paper about anyone being excused that day for All-State. But, I was in a hurry and I told her that I was positive Heather had rehearsal at noon on Thursday and all day Friday because Heather has been looking forward to this for months.

The secretary looked at me strangely but still didn't call for Heather to come to the office. "Can you call Heather out of class?" I asked her slowly so she would understand me. "It's in Morgantown," I emphasized. It was already 11:30 and I needed to give Heather her violin. Finally she called Heather down, but didn't seem too happy about it. I met her in the hallway.

Heather walked toward me giving me a look---the one you give when you want to make sure someone isn't carrying a sharp knife because you don't want them to hurt themselves. "Mom. Today is Wednesday." Then Heather turned around and went back to class.

First, I think I should get points for trying. I did remember, after all. I was a day off, but still.

Second, possibly this happens quite often. People go into the school and have their children called down for appointments and have the wrong day---all the time. Right?

Third, I had drank the last of my dr. pepper earlier that morning, so the trip wasn't a complete loss. I had to go out anyway.

Lastly. Today is Thursday.

It's cookie time!

The kids helped me bake cookies. They had no interest in eating the cookie dough---in fact, first thing they announced, "Mommy says, there are Rot-ten eggs in here, so we can't eat it!" I was very careful to make sure they didn't see me eat any cookie dough as I snuck a spoonful here and there. Hey, I figure I've been eating cookie dough since birth and I'm still alive...Anna was very disappointed when she came home from school to find none left in the fridge for her---we usually cook half and save half for eating (unless it all gets eaten before it gets cooked).

I liked Jesse's chocolate smile---it's nice to see a kid enjoy his food. Maybe it's not so endearing on an adult, so I made sure to wash my face as well. So I'm hoping I'm not the only one out there eating cookie dough. Maybe Nancy also hides under the table, licking the spoon and the bowl when no one is looking...and she just doesn't want to share...It makes me feel better to think that anyway:)

The Penultimate day and more random thoughts.

Brian thinks all my ideas should somehow be connected together. Well. They. Aren't. Sorry if it confuses everyone else. As we drive in the car Aurora and Jesse chatter. It isn't relaxed, mindless chatter either. It's intense---as fast as they can, have to get out every thought they've ever had---kind of talk. Like they've been storing it up for months or years. They are very interesting and after a week of hearing their secrets, I think I know everything.

Aurora wants to be a ballerina when she grows up and Jesse wants to be an artist. Which, Aurora thinks is very good, because then Jesse will be able to draw her everyday as she dances wearing her long, pretty ballerina dresses. This is just a tiny, speck of what I know.

Saturday we washed my car. It was 75 degrees outside and I have to admit after all the cold weather, it felt like summer. We rolled up our pants, took off our shoes and socks and waded in the puddles as we sprayed off the car. We each got a turn with the hose (some of us got longer turns than others). Unfortunately, we did such a good job cleaning the car, that when we went to the library later that day, we weren't able to find the car in the small parking lot. My car looks completely different when it's not covered in salt...

Jesse made a new kind of play-doh. He mixed a few colors together and called it his "rainbow play-doh." He showed it to me and said, "Isn't it a beauty?" The kids want to make chocolate chip cookies, so we're going to do that after lunch. Things are winding down, Nancy will be here in the morning so we're gathering and doing laundry.

Sorry I can't tie this all together for you. Maybe random fragments aren't meant to be linked together. Sometimes it's enough to be along for the ride. Just as long as you remember where you park.

Just let me pack some clean underwear first before we go.

They´re coming to take me away, Ha ha,
they´re coming to take me away, Ho ho, hee hee, ha ha,
To the funny farm
Where life is beautiful all the time
And I´ll be happy to see those nice young men
In their clean white coats
And they´re coming to take me AWAY,HA

My kids were singing this Dr. Demento song to me again last night. I guess It's become my own personal theme song. My kids started looking at me strange, especially when they are singing and I'm asking them: "the funny farm, hummm, I wonder if I'd get my own room?"

They´re coming to take me away,Ha ha,
they´re coming to take me away,Ho ho, hee hee, ha ha,
To the happy home with trees and flowers
And chirping birds and basket weavers
Who sit and smile and Twiddle their thumbs and toes
And they´re coming to take me away,HAHAAAAAAAAA

I like birds and trees and flowers....it wouldn't be too bad, right? Especially if you write me letters.

Time flies when you're having fun.

"Does she know she looks like a princess?" Aurora asked, when she saw Heather getting dressed for the big dance. "Yes," I told her. "She's going to a ball."

"Wow, can I go too?" Aurora wondered, still looking at Heather's dress. We explained that she wasn't old enough to go to dances yet and would have to wait until she was older.

"How long do I have to wait?"

We told her that she would have to wait ten more years and her face fell. "Oh no. It's going to take all week before I can go!"

Deja'vu

This morning I was walking back and forth across the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal. Every morning Jesse follows behind me and asks me what I'm doing. Maybe if I sat at the kitchen table and ate breakfast like a normal person, he wouldn't ask me what I was doing. Which I don't have a problem with. Except every time I try to sit down and eat cereal, the cat perches near by, staring at me, licking his lips, waiting for me to finish so he can have the last few drops of milk in my bowl. It is very unnerving, so I've taken to pacing.

So it is me, Jesse and the cat walking back and forth. "I'm eating cereal," I tell him again this morning. He never believes me and has me tip my bowl down for him to see. "Frosted Flakes!" he yells out, very upset. "I love 'Frosted flakes!'" There are tears in his eyes. "No, Jesse, remember I eat 'Honey Bunches of Oats.'" I told him yesterday and besides, I've eaten the same cereal every morning for the past ten years or so (except for a couple of years ago when I got hooked on instant oatmeal for three months). I have to show him the box again to prove it really isn't 'Frosted Flakes.' He scrunches up his nose, "Those aren't 'Frosted Flakes,'" he decides looking at the box. "Yuck!"

He runs off back to his fire truck leaving me to finish my cereal with only the cat to follow me---until tomorrow that is. When the whole conversation will happen all over again.

Going nowhere and other random comments.

We were eating breakfast this morning. "I think I'm sick," Aurora told me. I looked at her to see if she was okay. "Do you know why I'm sick?" she asked. Nope. "Boogers," she replied seriously. "I've been eating my boogers and now I'm sick." She shook her head sadly.

"Me too, me too," Jesse exclaimed, obviously not wanting to be left out. "I'm sick from eating my boogers. Hey everybody, I eat my boogers, too."

Later we were coloring valentine's and taping lollipops to them. (All the valentine's were on clearance at Walmart yesterday so we got some.) Jesse was eating a red lollipop. "I love these," he smiled. "It's a party in my tummy."

After we got dressed this morning I started to put Jesse's socks on him. "I don't need my socks," he informed me. "I'm going nowhere."

Do you ever feel like that? That you're going nowhere? Those are the days I stay in my pajamas...

The pitter patter of small feet.

We have Aurora and Jesse with us for a week. My kids love having little kids in the house. This is day #2 and we are working on establishing a routine. Today we spent the morning at the Burger King playland where Aurora made friends with all the other kids there. She told me she was trying not to be shy (I think it's working).

On our way to the car Jesse informed me that I didn't put him together. "What?" I asked him. He jiggled his zipper, "You didn't put me together," he repeated. Yes, I forgot to zip up his coat. He is full of the cutest expressions and I can't imagine where he gets them from.

Aurora was into Heather's make-up this afternoon. I reminded her that Heather promised to help her with it after she got home from school. She knew and said, "I'm sorry, but I just couldn't wait to look like a fashion girl." I understand, sometimes it's too much to ask to have to wait to look like a fashion girl.

I didn't see it coming...stabbed in the back without any warning!

You know there are some things that you count on to never let you down. Cracker jacks always have a prize in the bottom of the box; a nap every Sunday after Church; and when you turn on the dishwasher it's supposed to WORK!

I feel betrayed. My dishwasher now sits on the curb outside my house. Even the garbage men were disgusted by it and refused to take it away this morning. There is a gaping hole next to the sink where my dishwasher used to be. It mocks me every time I go into the kitchen with it's visual reminder that if I use a plate or cup, I will end up having to wash it myself. Napkin anyone?

I do realize that people did survive years ago without dishwashers. But you know what, it doesn't matter. I just want mine back---the one that worked...is that asking too much?