Friday, February 12, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
All in My Line of Work
Look around my house, and there’s plenty of work to be done. I’ve heard some assume that since I am a stay-at-home-mom and we home-school, there should be no problem keeping an orderly home. I have all day, after all, right?
Wrong.
I mean, yes, I have all day between everything else that needs to be done, but my kids never leave, so neither does their mess-making ability. Have you ever noticed, friends whose kids attend school, your house is messier during Christmas vacation when your kids are home from school? Yep. My life. It only makes sense that if you all eat at home for every meal, there will be more dishes.
Dishes aside, here's my job of first priority...
Schoolbooks and pencils, both colored and unleaded, and papers and scissors and glue sticks and notebooks have taken hostage my lovely craigslist dining room table. All that stuff represents work. Not just naming a place for it all to belong, but teaching and tutoring and nagging and urging.
I am my kids’ educator and that responsibility often overwhelms me! I love the stage we are entering though. They love to listen to me read out loud. We begin each day with a Bible story, then American history, and often, accounts of great Christian heroes.
During this reading time, my children like to snuggle and occasionally enjoy making forts out of our living room furniture, which means blankets and sleeping bags draped over everything. Fun is always followed by work. Have you noticed? Piles of blankets and cushions heavier than they can carry must be hauled up the stairs. And folded. This is my job. For now.
We are working on the chores thing. Child slave labor is a beautiful thing. :)
And then, of course, there’s more folding after the use of these.
I have to say though, I love my stacked Maytags on the same level as the bedrooms. No hauling laundry up or down stairs. What a treat after living for seven years where the washer was in my dark yucky basement and I carried everything up one flight of stairs, squeezing the basket through the overstocked pantry, and then up another flight. Try doing that pregnant. And my husband wonders why I never did laundry!
Anyway, here’s my final job. OK, not really. Just my final picture.
You like my double monitor? My husband has the best technology castoffs! And they are indispensable for my line of work.
I’ve been working for Carrie for a bit now designing blog books. So. Fun. I especially enjoy our weekly meetings at the local coffee shop!
Really, I think every mom needs a hobby or a job where every so often she has the satisfaction of a finished product. Something about which she can say, THIS IS DONE.
Because every mom knows that the work of mothering is never done.
Now, off to do those dishes!
Thanks for the You capture challenges, Beth, at I Should be Folding Laundry. I never would have taken a picture of my dirty dishes if it weren't for you!
Wrong.
I mean, yes, I have all day between everything else that needs to be done, but my kids never leave, so neither does their mess-making ability. Have you ever noticed, friends whose kids attend school, your house is messier during Christmas vacation when your kids are home from school? Yep. My life. It only makes sense that if you all eat at home for every meal, there will be more dishes.
Dishes aside, here's my job of first priority...
Schoolbooks and pencils, both colored and unleaded, and papers and scissors and glue sticks and notebooks have taken hostage my lovely craigslist dining room table. All that stuff represents work. Not just naming a place for it all to belong, but teaching and tutoring and nagging and urging.
I am my kids’ educator and that responsibility often overwhelms me! I love the stage we are entering though. They love to listen to me read out loud. We begin each day with a Bible story, then American history, and often, accounts of great Christian heroes.
During this reading time, my children like to snuggle and occasionally enjoy making forts out of our living room furniture, which means blankets and sleeping bags draped over everything. Fun is always followed by work. Have you noticed? Piles of blankets and cushions heavier than they can carry must be hauled up the stairs. And folded. This is my job. For now.
We are working on the chores thing. Child slave labor is a beautiful thing. :)
And then, of course, there’s more folding after the use of these.
I have to say though, I love my stacked Maytags on the same level as the bedrooms. No hauling laundry up or down stairs. What a treat after living for seven years where the washer was in my dark yucky basement and I carried everything up one flight of stairs, squeezing the basket through the overstocked pantry, and then up another flight. Try doing that pregnant. And my husband wonders why I never did laundry!
Anyway, here’s my final job. OK, not really. Just my final picture.
You like my double monitor? My husband has the best technology castoffs! And they are indispensable for my line of work.
I’ve been working for Carrie for a bit now designing blog books. So. Fun. I especially enjoy our weekly meetings at the local coffee shop!
Really, I think every mom needs a hobby or a job where every so often she has the satisfaction of a finished product. Something about which she can say, THIS IS DONE.
Because every mom knows that the work of mothering is never done.
Now, off to do those dishes!
Thanks for the You capture challenges, Beth, at I Should be Folding Laundry. I never would have taken a picture of my dirty dishes if it weren't for you!
Grandma's Books
Going to Grandma's always means books and reading. This is the home that had a TV only for watching the Olympics or world events or Christian videos. Reading and crafts filled the hours here.
And, oh, the books! After 17 years of homeschooling, Mom and Dad have quite the library, so it was no surprise yesterday when Mom pulled out a story relevant to the coming holiday. Check it out here.
No, I am not being paid for sharing this. I am doing it out of the goodness of my own heart. :)
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Recipe for a Great Vacation
First, sleep in and sit around visiting with friends in your condo, drinking your husband's awesome coffee made with an industrial sized Bunn (that he brought from home) while most of your kids traipse off to enjoy the waterpark with their friends.
Lolligag your way to the hot tub and marinate there for a while.
After your daughter disappears from the hot tub, search high and low even though you know you'll find her in the lazy river. And she swims like a fish, so she's fine.
Change venues and sit some more in the wave pool water dome. Stare at your toes and wish you'd painted your nails.
Then immediately forget about them because you are enjoying your friends. And they really don't care about your toes.
Gather some giggly girls and head down the Woolly Mammoth. Thank God you went on vacation in the middle of the week so there are no lines, but still only go down twice because your thighs are killing you from running up so many flights of stairs.
Repeat above indefinitely until you get hungry.
Hurry down long corridors back to your condo...
Put kids to bed at a reasonable hour and then play cards with your friends and their teenagers.
Stay up way past your middle-aged bedtime, but sleep well in the king sized bed where you do not have to fight over covers or space or pillows.
Repeat. Liberally. But at least once a year.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
The Hurricane
What do you do on this ride? asked a first timer.
You scream really loud and raise your hands in the air, someone joked.
"Nooooo! Hold on! Jyou could diye!"
said the sweet Hispanic lady emphatically, as she loaded us in the tube.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Summer lives here
Four days of listening to lapping waves.
Many hysterical belly laughs, barely catching my breath while riding the swells.
Walking long hallways connecting beach and water-park and condo,
I enjoy the view from the corridor, but laugh in the face of winter flakes falling.
The seasons do not change the Summer that lives here.
For a short while in February, Summer beach days with friends return.
Hope
He yells. Challenges my authority. Whether because he is outgrowing the mother bond and relating more to his dad, or for the lack of discipline, I'm not sure. Is his anger my fault? Have I created this? I find it easy to blame myself.
He seethes. Pouts. Says things that scare me. His words hurt. They pierce my mother heart.
I calm myself. Seek strength from my Father. I hold him down to prevent him from running. From hurting someone or something. He yells more. Sets himself against my most precious beliefs. Challenges the very idea of God.
I wait and listen. He has said these things before. He knows they hurt me. When his anger subsides, so will his denial of God. I hope.
He is ready to listen now. I speak Truth with passion and kindness and pain. I say I cannot make him believe in God. But if he chooses that path, I cannot help him hope anymore. Whether his choice is right or not, the choice is his, but I warn him of the danger of a path without God. Without a loving Father. Without hope.
I remind him of things he knows but has momentarily forgotten. Of love and a plan for forgiveness. Of what faith will get him. His debt of sin has been paid. For moments like these, Christ died. He need not give up. The work of Christ is now within us. He has every reason to hope.
That's the difference between the path he threatens and the path I beg him to choose. Hope. Hope brings purpose. Hope calms anger. Hope speaks peace to fear. Hope gives courage and strength and determination. Hope changes everything.
My words are passionate and tear toned. For him and his soul. His eyes pool as well. His heart is once again soft. He hears with more than his ears and the anger is gone. His faith is restored. And because of Christ, I hope.
I found the above picture here.
He seethes. Pouts. Says things that scare me. His words hurt. They pierce my mother heart.
I calm myself. Seek strength from my Father. I hold him down to prevent him from running. From hurting someone or something. He yells more. Sets himself against my most precious beliefs. Challenges the very idea of God.
I wait and listen. He has said these things before. He knows they hurt me. When his anger subsides, so will his denial of God. I hope.
He is ready to listen now. I speak Truth with passion and kindness and pain. I say I cannot make him believe in God. But if he chooses that path, I cannot help him hope anymore. Whether his choice is right or not, the choice is his, but I warn him of the danger of a path without God. Without a loving Father. Without hope.
I remind him of things he knows but has momentarily forgotten. Of love and a plan for forgiveness. Of what faith will get him. His debt of sin has been paid. For moments like these, Christ died. He need not give up. The work of Christ is now within us. He has every reason to hope.
That's the difference between the path he threatens and the path I beg him to choose. Hope. Hope brings purpose. Hope calms anger. Hope speaks peace to fear. Hope gives courage and strength and determination. Hope changes everything.
My words are passionate and tear toned. For him and his soul. His eyes pool as well. His heart is once again soft. He hears with more than his ears and the anger is gone. His faith is restored. And because of Christ, I hope.
I found the above picture here.
Friday, February 5, 2010
The Color of a Pill
I'm cold lately.
Tired too.
My skin is dry.
Winter creeps into my soul.
I'm forgetful.
Is it a season of the heart? Is it sin? Is it a season of motherhood? Or just the season of snow and cold and dark?
It may be those things. But it may be something else too.
I've never used it as an excuse before. I thought it some silly disease easily cured by one little pill. It didn't bother my beloved, either, when we were dating. He made sure to tell me so. I wasn't worried. It didn't bother me either!
What is this nuisance of a disease, so easily confused with the effects of a season?
Hypothyroidism. Under active thyroid.
I've been taking the little pill since I was ten. And I've been fine. Thankyouverymuch.
Except of course when I carried my babies. My body couldn't keep up and my dosage couldn't either. Was I extra tired than normal pregnant women? Was it harder on me than others? Every month my pill color changed. A higher dose.
Babies came and my dose decreased. Easily normal again.
I recently had my yearly checkup. I can't remember the TSH (Thyroid stimulating hormone) number, but my pill color changed. I must be getting older. Or something. Yes, I've been tired and cold and crabby, and at times, overwhelmed. I've even had "sluggish thought processing" and forgetfulness. My kids say I have short term memory loss. But my sister would claim I've always had that...(That's a joke, people!)
But I'm a mom. And it's winter. Doesn't that account for my symptoms?
Who knows.
I'll have to wait and see if this pill color helps.
Tired too.
My skin is dry.
Winter creeps into my soul.
I'm forgetful.
Is it a season of the heart? Is it sin? Is it a season of motherhood? Or just the season of snow and cold and dark?
It may be those things. But it may be something else too.
I've never used it as an excuse before. I thought it some silly disease easily cured by one little pill. It didn't bother my beloved, either, when we were dating. He made sure to tell me so. I wasn't worried. It didn't bother me either!
What is this nuisance of a disease, so easily confused with the effects of a season?
Hypothyroidism. Under active thyroid.
I've been taking the little pill since I was ten. And I've been fine. Thankyouverymuch.
Except of course when I carried my babies. My body couldn't keep up and my dosage couldn't either. Was I extra tired than normal pregnant women? Was it harder on me than others? Every month my pill color changed. A higher dose.
Babies came and my dose decreased. Easily normal again.
I recently had my yearly checkup. I can't remember the TSH (Thyroid stimulating hormone) number, but my pill color changed. I must be getting older. Or something. Yes, I've been tired and cold and crabby, and at times, overwhelmed. I've even had "sluggish thought processing" and forgetfulness. My kids say I have short term memory loss. But my sister would claim I've always had that...(That's a joke, people!)
But I'm a mom. And it's winter. Doesn't that account for my symptoms?
Who knows.
I'll have to wait and see if this pill color helps.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
The Faces of Vacation
Three days of laughing at the snowy outdoors, donning swimsuits and defying the elements. One indoor beach. An artificial hurricane. Many slides...a river. The air warmed and even tanned our skin under the glass dome. Twelve families lounged together, kids playing hard. Memories are easily made with these friends. Here are a few of their faces.
Every week is a new photo challenge and this week's theme was faces.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Not me: Camera purchase
Last week I purchased a new camera. I searched the internet, researched models and found some deals. After a whole morning of reading reviews I found a steal of a deal and clicked order. The price seemed almost too good to be true.
Two days later. A guy calls from the internet site I ordered from and says there may be a problem. I think it is strange to be getting a phone call, but I do not see what is coming. Not me. I am not trusting and naive. Not me!
The man says they may not have the camera in stock. He asks what I know of the camera. He attempts to upsell me. But I am not about to buy his pitch. Not me. I begin to see his scheme. He claims the battery with the camera I ordered is no good and that I need to spend $150.00 more on a longer lasting battery. I state that I am not interested but he will not give up. Neither will I. Not me.
I state honestly that I need to do some research. I agree to call him back to update my order. I quickly scan the internet for information on Canon batteries and find he is charging twice the price for the upgrade battery. I am not about to fall for that. Not. me.
I call the seller. I refuse the upgrades. He in turn claims the camera is on back-order for 18 days. I cancel my order. He says he hopes he can help me in the future. I don't doubt that. But I won't be helped. Not me.
I begin to research sellers. I probably should have done this earlier. But I didn't. Not me. I'd never had troubles ordering online, so I am not as careful as is prudent. I find the seller I dealt with has a reputation that proceeds him. Phone calls, pressured up-sells and delayed shipping. I am so glad I canceled my order when I did.
Meanwhile, I order a lens from a more reputable company. A salesman calls me from this company too. He tries to sell me an upgraded filter kit and warranty. I am not spooked by my previous experience and following research. Not me. I refuse to be fooled again. Not me. Not gonna happen. I decide to cancel that order and buy a used lens from a friend.
I order my camera for $80.00 more than the too good to be true price from a reputable company my family has ordered from in the past. I am not about to take a chance. Not me. There are times when you get what you pay for. And I will not succumb to my mistaken belief that the cheapest price is always the best deal. Not. me.
For more denials, head on over and visit Jennifer. This post has been shared on her site with others participating in:
Two days later. A guy calls from the internet site I ordered from and says there may be a problem. I think it is strange to be getting a phone call, but I do not see what is coming. Not me. I am not trusting and naive. Not me!
The man says they may not have the camera in stock. He asks what I know of the camera. He attempts to upsell me. But I am not about to buy his pitch. Not me. I begin to see his scheme. He claims the battery with the camera I ordered is no good and that I need to spend $150.00 more on a longer lasting battery. I state that I am not interested but he will not give up. Neither will I. Not me.
I state honestly that I need to do some research. I agree to call him back to update my order. I quickly scan the internet for information on Canon batteries and find he is charging twice the price for the upgrade battery. I am not about to fall for that. Not. me.
I call the seller. I refuse the upgrades. He in turn claims the camera is on back-order for 18 days. I cancel my order. He says he hopes he can help me in the future. I don't doubt that. But I won't be helped. Not me.
I begin to research sellers. I probably should have done this earlier. But I didn't. Not me. I'd never had troubles ordering online, so I am not as careful as is prudent. I find the seller I dealt with has a reputation that proceeds him. Phone calls, pressured up-sells and delayed shipping. I am so glad I canceled my order when I did.
Meanwhile, I order a lens from a more reputable company. A salesman calls me from this company too. He tries to sell me an upgraded filter kit and warranty. I am not spooked by my previous experience and following research. Not me. I refuse to be fooled again. Not me. Not gonna happen. I decide to cancel that order and buy a used lens from a friend.
I order my camera for $80.00 more than the too good to be true price from a reputable company my family has ordered from in the past. I am not about to take a chance. Not me. There are times when you get what you pay for. And I will not succumb to my mistaken belief that the cheapest price is always the best deal. Not. me.
For more denials, head on over and visit Jennifer. This post has been shared on her site with others participating in:
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