Stanley'SMilestones

2011: Year in Review

2011-12-31T21:33:00.017-05:00

I will admit that the frequency of my posts has diminished more than I'd like to admit, but I have no excuse to offer other than life. I'm busy with other stuff. But I would be remiss if I didn't offer my traditional Year In Review, so here it is. I can only hope it's better than last year's was.

JANUARY
Oh, January, what did you have to offer us last year? Snow. Cold. Seemingly endless winter days falling on the heals of the next. But G and I stayed warm in our new king size bed. Yes, it was time. Honestly, we had been sleeping on a queen size bed with a large dog and that's not so much an issue as the fact that the bed was pre wedding and from G's bachelor days.
Oh, how we love our new bed.

FEBRUARY
Another cold and endless month, even if it is the shortest. I remember lots and lots of snow. See, Sammie is barely a spec in all that snow.

MARCH
Slow-melting snow, but the prospect of spring! I was one of three to receive Londonderry's annual Volunteer of the Year Award, which was an honor. Here it is, displayed on our mantle. Charlie Brown is in awe.

Also in March, Aunt Dee came to visit. She had a business trip and extended her stay to visit with us. Seeing as my sisters rarely come home anymore, it was an unexpected and pleasant visit.

APRIL
Apparently it was a pretty insignificant month because I didn't blog during any of the 30 days. Either that, or I was too busy working in m garden.

You know what, I think I will go with the latter.

MAY
I have nothing. It got warmer, the garden grew, days got longer.

JUNE
I saw John Oates from the former Hall & Oates at Tupelo Hall. Met him personally, got his autograph. Very nice guy.

The school year wound down to an end with a flurry of activities. I like June, except for the day I got a dirty traffic ticket. I will either be ordered to pay it on January 6 or will be pardoned. I'll let you know.

JULY
Oh, what can I say about July? Mom visited while my cousin Gayle underwent heart surgery. My mom was the nanny to Gayle's baby girl. We did the beach, the garden blossomed, and I went to a couple of country concerts. No big vacation this year because of other obligations, but it was still a good month.

AUGUST
August was busy. More concerts, more summer outings, and the first day of school (first day for Chris as he entered 6th grade at the middle school), to name a few. I got the quilt that I had been working on completed and mailed to my sister in time for what would have been Lauren's 14th birthday. I am very thankful to CFA and KC for their help.

This was, by far, the biggest accomplishment of the year for me.

SEPTEMBER
Besides the plunge into soccer season again, the best part of this month was my sister's wedding in Tennessee. It was the first time my sisters, mom, stepdad and I had all been together since August of 2010, and for a celebration this time. That was a great weekend. Oh boy, can we tell you stories...

OCTOBER
More soccer tournaments, but Jeff and I got to visit an old friend/coworker of mine in New Jersey during Tommy's tournament, which was a lot of fun. It was Jeffrey's desire to get to see a real black sheep in person. He got his wish.

The year ended with a bizarre freak snowstorm none of us will soon forget. We lost power for 4 days. Trick-or-treating was postponed to the first weekend of November, and within a week the snow was mostly melted. I said it was bizarre.

NOVEMBER
I got a job! Well, not a full-time job, but a little one-day-a-week job to supplement my 10-hour-a-week job. I sit on the block every Thursday at the local auto auction. I have to say it is really quite interesting. I am still amazed at how fast those auctioneers can talk.

DECEMBER
It was questionable as to whether or not we'd actually have a white Christmas, believe it or not. Yeah, the October snow was long gone. But we did get a little dusting. We celebrated Christmas this year not at our house like we usually do, but at G's sister's instead, which was a nice change. And as is typical for me, the decor started coming down the day after. It's the clutter! I can't stand it! But on this last day of 2011, I do still have all of the Christmas cards up and on display. Until tomorrow.

What will 2012 bring? I hope for many things like everybody else, like getting fit again and finding a job that is more than 10 hours a week (although I hope to never give up my job at the church). But mostly I hope for more peace and love, and that starts at home. I'm on it.

Court day!

2011-11-08T16:19:00.005-05:00

I went to court this morning. It was the first time I had been in this courthouse, but it wasn't my last, as I had hoped it would be.

This was the follow up to the traffic ticket I got in June. I was prepared to fight it out with the prosecutor, hard evidence and all, but this wasn't the time, apparently. And how would I know that, being a non-frequent visitor to court?

After the prosecutor finally arrived late and requested that all attendees who were there from my town line up and check in with him individually, I was quick to scramble into the very long queue. I was 7th in line out of nearly 40. Lucky number 7.

I noticed how the individuals in front of me were quick to open their checkbooks as soon as they had the opportunity to make their traffic violations disappear. You see, the violation could be very quickly taken care of as long as the offender would pay its exact amount towards a charitable organization. "Special Olympics is one of our favorites," the prosecutor told one eager fellow.

When it was my turn, I stated my name, clarifying that I was not Peggy, who shared my last name and also had a court appearance that day. He quickly reviewed my file and stated not to my surprise, "Hmm. Cited for failure to use required turn signals. Wow, I've never seen one of these before."

Really? Well, apparently every other offender who got such a citation from Officer Blink decided to plead guilty and pay it. There is a first time for everything, yessir, and let me be the one to make it happen. The prosecutor was not in a position to just toss my ludicrous citation out. He gave me two choices: I could make a charitable donation in the amount of the fine or set a date for a court hearing.

I'll be returning to court on January 6.

Happy Halloween! Not really.

2011-10-31T15:47:00.003-04:00

So much for fall. It's my favorite time of year, unless you get a random storm dumping a foot of snow 2 days before Halloween. Oh yeah, hello October 29, 2011 freak snowstorm. I had the night planned out, but it all fell apart. The great band we were going to see canceled, and I could have gone to a Halloween party, but it was way on the other side of town and I figured I'd be better off just going straight home from 99s Restaurant when the power went out and I was signing the manual credit card slip by candlelight.

I got home and was pulling into the garage just as the tree next to the northern corner of the front of the house split and came crashing down, blocking the front entrance. We never cared for that tree, and it was growing too close to the house anyway.

The sun shined brightly on Sunday, as it always does after a storm, and we proceeded to dig our way out. We had to, after all, because Chris' soccer game was absolutely still on. That's one of the benefits of playing on a turf field that can be easily cleared of snow faster than you can say "Goal". Besides, there wasn't much else to do with no power, so why not?

And just like the famous Ice Storm, the boys got excited and creative and kept themselves entertained. But when you don't have electricity, and you know where the road is going to take you, that gets old really fast. Even if school gets canceled on Halloween and you don't get to have a parade and classroom parties. And it may be exciting to be getting even another day off from school, like the boys are tomorrow (just keep adding those days to June), but really and truly, it is not fun. At all. And cabin fever can have tempers flaring in no time.

Still, I went to Wal-Mart today and paid $9.88 for a game of Monopoly the boys requested. We all know a game of Monopoly can last for hours and boy do we have plenty of those ahead of us as long as we are without power and school keeps getting canceled.

As for trick-or-treating? That has been postponed until next Sunday, November 5. But I don't know, it just doesn't seem right. I'm still putting away the halloween decor tomorrow. If the cabin fever hasn't really put me over the edge by then. For me, when November 1 arrives, I start thinking about Thanksgiving and Christmas. I start thinking about Christmas wish lists and gifts and that's easy enough when I am seeing white every time I look out the window. I'll bet you if we hadn't gotten this October snowstorm, I wouldn't be wishing for a generator for Christmas, either.

But for now, I'm going to keep my wish list to the present and keep hoping for electricity to be restored and school to resume.
Happy Halloween. Some treat this has turned out to be.

Full

2011-10-03T17:32:00.004-04:00

"Four boys. You must have your hands full."

Do you know how many times I hear that? Yes, I have my hands full but I'd rather they be full then empty.

We are a soccer family. All four boys play this sport. The three oldest play on a travel team, so the commitment level is higher than what is expected of a child playing recreational soccer, which is what Jeff does. He just has a one hour practice each week and a game on Saturday. His brothers have two practices each a week and a game on the weekend. Tommy and Chris also play for the middle school on two different teams, so they have practices after school daily unless they have a game. And if it rains a lot, like it did where we live last week, they will have to make up those games. Chris has four school games this week and Tommy has 2.

But I manage to get them to games and practices and where they need to be. G helps when he can, and mostly handles Joey's schedule since he coaches his team.

Joey usually has practice on Mondays at 5 so today I rushed him all the way to the soccer fields, only to find none of his teammates or G there. A quick phone call to the assistant coach's wife confirmed my suspicion: this week the practices are Wednesdays and Thursdays, as G will change the Monday/Wednesday choice each week and notify the team via email. Well, since I don't go and read what is in the SENT folder, I wasn't aware of this. And I didn't call G directly because, well, he doesn't carry a cell phone. We're working on that. And it wouldn't be such an inconvenience but these soccer fields are waaayyy over on the edge of town, 15 minutes away. And I had to dash back to the center of town to pick up Chris from school practice.

But his friend's mom called me and offered to give him a ride, but I was halfway there and told her I was, and that I had texted him so no thanks. Because I could just grab him on my way home. "You know he has Matt's practice tonight, right?" she asked.

No, I did not know that because I was under the impression that his former Monday Academy practices were canceled. Apparently not. So yes, please take him to practice and I'll head home and wait to hear from Tommy because he will be returning on the bus from his away school game and I will need to pick him up at the school once they arrive. I could ask G to do it, but remember - no cell phone. But I know he's going to the fields to pick up a check he needs for the Columbus Day tournament. Do I call a friend and ask her to drive over to where I know he is meeting the club president and ask him to please get Chris before heading home? Or do I drive all the way back there and get him myself?

I do have my hands full, don't I? A master schedule can't be a master schedule if it is changing week to week. It is unavoidable: the ball will inevitably get dropped sometimes.

Beach Day!

2011-09-01T22:15:00.003-04:00

I almost overslept this morning. I remember having a very strange dream about going on a job interview. But I managed to get up in time to get the boys off to school. And then I got ready to go to the beach for the day.

That's right, you heard me. I went to the beach. Alone. While the boys went to school. And it was as wonderful as I imagined it would be, except for when I had to leave at 2:30 so I would be home in time for the younger boys to get off the bus. But it was still way worth it. I never thought I would get a suntan on September 1.

Yes, I strategically timed my departure so I would still have time to pick up Cristy's pizza at Salisbury Center. Then I zoomed home and rushed around to pick up the two older boys from soccer practice and then get the oldest to his team soccer practice and then get to the 4th grade parent meeting at the school and then get back to the soccer fields to pick up the oldest, whose coach decided the extra 20 minutes and playing in the dark was going to benefit their games at the tournament this weekend. I finally got back home just after 8 PM.

I only got one slice of Cristy's pizza, but it was still worth the perfect day I had, lying at the beach and soaking up the last bit of summer sun.

I wonder if I was dreaming about work because I knew I was going to the beach and it was subconscious guilt because I wasn't going to work?

Probably not.

Irene's Scene

2011-08-27T21:41:00.005-04:00

Today I went to the store to buy some flashlights and D batteries. They were all out of flashlights. And of course, there was not a single pack of D batteries to be found. That's what I get for procrastinating. I do have lighters and candles, though. So there will be light, come hell or high water. And in this case, it is actually high water that will prompt the need.

The boys' first day back to school was supposed to be Monday, August 28. But yesterday, the superintendent went ahead and canceled the first day because Irene is visiting us tomorrow. This summer isn't even over and next summer has probably already been shortened with us already losing regular school days. It's not enough that we will surely have snow days this year; now we get to add hurricane days. On the plus side, we only got to to the beach 1 day this summer, but Monday is supposed to be a beautiful day and Irene will have long since moved on, so it just may be a spontaneous beach day for us. If anything, it will be worth going to check out the waves that will surely be high.

In other tidbit news, Tommy and Chris both tried out and made a middle school soccer team respectively. Tommy will play on the L team and Chris will play on the M team. They will have practices and games after school every day and then we will rush to their practices for their club teams and I will probably be on more than one soccer field both Saturdays and Sundays watching them play. We like soccer. A lot.

It's raining out right now. That's because Irene is knocking at the door. Eventually she will get really mad and start making some noise and disrupt our sleep. And we might lose power but that's okay because I have my candles ready.

I didn't know what title to use for this posting so I copied the blog title of a friend of mine. Because I'm sure you are wondering where the title came from and I know you care. You're welcome.

Why?

2011-08-12T19:01:00.003-04:00

I really don't know how it happened. I have four very active boys, and while they have been to a baseball game or two, for some reason, none has ever been at the precocious age of seven, when the questions are never-ending. Until Jeffrey.

We took two of our 4 boys to a Fishercats game last night. While I am not your biggest fan, I enjoy going to a ball game and watching the boys play. The Fishercats had a Golden retriever, which I presume is their mascot. That's how the conversation went from mammals to canines.

"Dad, where do whales come from?" Jeff asked during the drive to the game. "How did they become whales?"

While the players were warming up before the start of the game, their mascot came out onto the field. Of course, once the game started, the dog was no longer visible. "Where's the dog?" We told him the dog was taking a nap. "Where's he sleeping?" We told him he was napping in the Fishercat's dugout. And from there, it was one query after another, interspersed with some statements.

Imagine sitting at a baseball game with a 7-year-old sitting beside you, who apparently has taken a newfound interest since he last went to a game two years prior. "I want to be a baseball player. I could run around this whole field two times. Are they going to do that T-shirt thing again? What are they saying? What does 'charge' mean? Why do they say that? How many players are on the field? When is the inning over? It's getting dark. When's Chris coming home? Hey, can we go to the golf course two times tomorrow? Hey, what are they doing? (Smoothing the sand.) Why are they yelling that? I hope they do the T-shirts again. I might catch one. I got two-hole-in one today. Joey didn't even get a single hole-in-one. Why is he throwing that? (Player tossing a ball into the eager crowd.) I wonder who was that guy video taping? Where's the dog? Is he still napping? Is the dog going to come back? That grass is perfect right there. Not the whole thing. See that part right there that says 'Delta'? Why are they launching balls out? Come on, dad, you said a ball was going to come over here. Is the game still going? Why are there people going in? What are those kids doing? (Mascot chase.) Why did they only invite them? How do they ask you? Do you have to be in a costume? There's a lot of 'empires'. (Probably meant 'umpires'.) Dad, you said a ball was going to come over here. How can he catch that? Is the game over? Dad, why is everyone clapping? How come those people are up there? (VIP section.) How come they're important? Even those kids are important? Do they not care about us? Joey, can I hold the ball? (After I had caught one tossed into the crowd.)

And that is how I enjoyed the game last night. And it is one of the best memories I'll ever have of my youngest boy.

Use your blinker

2011-07-14T20:21:00.008-04:00

A few weeks ago, I was returning home from the grocery store with the 3 younger boys. If you know our town, you know the back way route that enables you to avoid traffic lights on busy route 102. I was on this back road, known as Commons Way, when the SUV in front of me suddenly pulled over and turned on his right directional. So, as you would have guessed, after stopping I proceeded to go around him. There was an entrance to a small parking lot just ahead of him, and it wasn't until I was attempting to pass him that I realized why he suddenly pulled over. There was a police cruiser attempting to back up. You know how drivers panic at the sight of a cop and go out of their way to be extra friendly. That's exactly what this driver had done.

So I stopped and I waited. But the officer was obviously waiting for me -- or us -- to proceed, and now that I was in a compromising position and inhibiting opposite traffic (of which there was none, but nonetheless...), I moved on. This road continues behind an adjacent strip mall and I continued on until I got to the Stop sign at Gilcreast Road, where I stopped and then turned right towards home.

Suddenly, the cruiser appeared behind me and flashed his blues. I knew he was pulling me over because he thought I was being reckless back where he was backing up when I attempted to go around the SUV and was ready to argue my case to him: I couldn't see around the SUV that had pulled over and turned on his directional.

Let's call him Officer Blink. So Officer Blink approached my van and replied to my pleasant, "Hello," with a gruff "License and registration." I already had them ready and I handed them over.

"The reason I pulled you over, ma'am, is number one, you passed that vehicle back there on the left, which is illegal. Number two, you didn't use your turn signal turning just now."

I didn't use my turn signal? As in, my right turn signal from a private way onto Gilcreast? Before I could reply, he returned to his cruiser while I pulled up the scanner app on my iPhone so I could listen. Unfortunately, by the time it queued up, I missed his call into the station. But he didn't return quickly, and I realized he had to be writing up a ticket.

Sure enough, he returned, citation in hand. "Ma'am, I'm issuing you a citation today for the traffic violation."

"So you are giving me a ticket because I couldn't see back there behind the SUV. I clearly stopped when I realized why he was pulled over and waited for you to go and since you didn't, I proceeded."

"Ma'am, let me finish," he said, obviously annoyed ~~from standing out in the rain~~. "I'm not giving you a citation for that violation. I'm giving it to you for not using your right turn directional."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I said nothing, knowing I'd incriminate myself if I did because I was so angry. He returned to his cruiser and knowing he was waiting for me to leave before leaving himself, I stayed put, pretending to text. Eventually, he got out of the cruiser and again approached my van. I rolled down my window and looked at him expectantly. "And why are we still here?" he asked.

"Well, I was texting and I don't text when I'm driving. It's too dangerous," I replied.

"Well, I'm sticking out in the road so you can't stay here," he retorted.

"Fine," I said as I rolled up the window. I put on my directional, pulled out into the road, and immediately pulled over so I was now off the shoulder, clear of traffic. He pulled out and turned left into the office park across the street.

According to the citation, "Other" was checked off, next to which he had written, "Failure to use required turn signal." Contrary to RSA 265:45, this penalizes the offender of a fine of $44.64.

Now, I suppose I could get over the fact that he was clearly being a jerk, pay the fine, and move on. But you see, here's the problem: I don't want this on my record. The last time I got a citation was over 13 years ago and I would like to think I am a careful and safe driver. Also, I almost always use my directional, and never fail to use it when I'm turning left or when there is a vehicle immediately behind me. But there was nobody immediately behind me, nor was there oncoming traffic on Gilcreast heading in the same direction I was, hence the lack of directional.

And it's just $44.64. But it is the principle that kept bothering me. So, last week, I parked across the street for an hour and surveyed the traffic that exited from Commons Drive onto Gilcreast. Of the vehicles 97 vehicles that turned right, only 32 used their directionals. For thorough measure, I also recorded the 35 vehicles that turned left. In this case, 10 didn't use their directionals. Clearly, drivers are more conscientious about using their directionals when turning left than when they turn right. But that's neither here nor there, and my observation may not guarantee me immunity from having to pay the fine. I needed more proof.

I was listening to the scanner a week later when I heard that an officer was at the supermarket, so I headed down, hopeful to catch him in the act of "forgetting" to use his directional at some point. It was my lucky day. He "forgot" to use it three times, and one of them was at the exact location where I was cited, and another was when he was turning after a Stop sign!

See?

The first is just after the location where he was backing up out of the parking lot.
The second shows him turning right from Commons Drive onto Gilcreast, which is where I was cited.
The third shows him turning left.
In all three, he doesn't use his directional.

I'm really hopeful that the judge will rule in my favor.

Chickie

2011-06-14T09:03:00.005-04:00

Once upon a time one cool, spring day, three brothers were outside playing in their yard. The older of the three thought he saw a frog on the ground, because those boys are always looking for and catching toads and frogs, but upon closer inspection, discovered a tiny newborn bird. They searched and searched for a nest in the nearby Magnolia tree, but no nest could be found. From where did this tiny bird come?

They brought the small creature inside to their mom, and she was very sad to see this helpless bird, because she feared for its very life. But then she had an idea. They knew of a nest in the Crabapple tree, and maybe, just maybe, the mother bird of the two eggs still waiting to be hatched would take care of this little bird, too.

One of the boys climbed the Crabapple tree and placed the tiny bird in the nest next to the two eggs, one of which was just starting to hatch, as its tiny beak was just poking through. The boy climbed down from the tree quickly in the hopes of calming the mother bird who was shrieking from the nearby tree to which she had flown when the boy climbed up.

They had to leave for soccer, but when they returned home nearly 3 hours later, the boy checked the nest and found Chickie there with the two eggs. They all hoped the mother bird was taking care of her adopted baby bird.

The next morning, the boy checked the nest again. This time, he found one newly hatched bird next to the second egg starting to hatch, and no sign of Chickie. What did the mother bird do with it? Nobody knows, although the boys' mother suspected she had kicked it out of her nest. Her worst fears came true. Despite their efforts, they could not save the helpless little bird.

The end.

(I never said it would be a happy ending.)

Slippery, slippery slopes

2011-02-27T20:13:00.004-05:00

You will never, ever guess what happened to me today. Actually, it wasn't just one incident, but several and guess what they all had to do with? Yes, the weather. As in SNOW. Snow, as in what was apparently flying outside when we opened our eyes this morning. Who knew we were getting this little storm? Not us, no sir. Snuck up on us, this one did. Good ol' sucker punch right to the gut.

Hubby cleared the driveway not once, but twice before heading out with one to a soccer game. It was not long after he left when I had to leave to go out, but boy did that Relentless Snow have something to say. Poor Sienna slipped and slid all over the driveway. After I ~~cursed and screamed at nobody~~ realized I was trapped, I parked her and went for the sand.

But because the snow was relentlessly NOT STOPPING, the sand was useless. Actually, it was only semi-useless. I think it did get me halfway up the driveway, when Sienna stalled and sputtered and spun her tires, but not without giving a little bit of her spunk because it was barely noticeable, but she was most definitely inching along. So I pressed my foot to the metal and kept going. And then I got nearly to the top. And then she started to slide a little bit sideways. But I was so, so close to the top, you see. And I refused to back down. Come hell or high water or spring thaw or whatever, I was going to get out of that driveway and I was getting out when I decided and not grumpy old Mother Nature, who seemed to really have it in for us.

And do you know what? i won. After some slipping and sliding and rocking back and forth, Sienna got her nose out to the road. And then, though she was most definitely in drive, she went nowhere. Barely an incline on the road, and after her battle to get out of the huge incline that is the driveway, she just didn't have it in her. I was shocked. I was actually stuck on the main road while Relentless Snow kept falling all around us.

I put on the hazards and other cars passed us while we tried to go forward, but just didn't. Oh, she could go in reverse just fine. But going forward was just not happening. So I decided to turn around and go in the other direction, which although headed northward, actually goes down hill. Success!

By the time I got finished and was headed home, the roads were much clearer. Even my driveway was all cleared, thanks to hubby clearing it a third time.

Then the three younger boys and I went to a birthday party. And the house where we went has a driveway just like ours, only instead of going down to the house from the road, their driveway goes up from the road to the house. And their driveway was well cleared too because some cars parked at the top, while most cars parked on the street. I parked Sienna in the driveway and just to be safe, since she was on a hill, I put the trusty emergency brake on. We all got out and the boys headed up and then I shut my door.

And then Sienna started to slide back down the driveway. And then I screamed. And then Jeffrey screamed, "Mom!" And then I ran after Sienna, intent on saving her from a terrible, awful crash. But I only wound up crashing into the #@!&! snowbank, soaking my jeans and shirt and coat. I probably would have been able to get myself back into the driver's seat to hit the break if it wasn't for that Godforsaken #@!&! snowbank, too. Relentless, this snow has been this winter. Relentless. The snowbanks are forever high.

I really believe my guardian Angels were watching out for me because if it wasn't for them, Sienna wouldn't have come to a stop before getting to the bottom of the driveway. Yvie's garden is right there next to where Sienna was slipping away, after all. And I was wearing Yvie's Life is Good shirt, not to mention Lauren's Oakley.

I parked Sienna on the flat street, sans the useless emergency brake.

Ingredients to a successful getaway

2011-01-25T15:40:00.006-05:00

I left my house this morning at 8:40 to drive the less than 2 miles it takes to get from there to work.

I got to work at 9:50.

Here is why:

Do you see that orange flag? That is about the spot where my non-4WD vehicle tends to get stuck ascending the driveway to the street. And we had a few flurries this morning to add to the already tons of snow. It wasn't enough snow this time to warrant the need to break out the well broken in snow blower, and not enough to necessitate the use of a shovel if you had AWD. But for me, with my mere 4WD van, the coating was not enough to give me traction, but enough to merely spin the tires, getting nowhere fast.

So I backed up, put the van in park, and reluctantly went for the shovel and began clearing the driveway. After that, you would think I would be set to go, but not with this driveway, no sir. A little sand, and then I'd be on my way.

Oh, but wait. The 20-gallon barrel was empty of salted sand. So stuck, I still was.

As luck would have it, just yesterday, I purchased some new bath mats and had put the old ones in the laundry room to be washed and put away. Apparently, their intended use would no longer be for bathroom decor, because I decided they would have to improvise for the traction I needed to get out of my driveway.

Success!

Down the road I drove with the red gas tank to fill up with gasoline needed for the next storm due tomorrow. But before that, I made a stop to one of the many blue sand barrels around town and filled up mine quite generously. To ensure it would not topple over, I strapped her in until I would get home later in the afternoon to deliver to the side of the garage.

I got to work at 9:50 AM. And I'm so ready for this week's storm. We get them weekly now, you know. Sometimes even daily.

Duck, duck, goose!

2011-01-05T17:14:00.006-05:00

It was just like any other afternoon. The boys got off the bus, waited for the bus driver to give the thumbs up sign so they could cross the road, and then they ran happily down the driveway, grateful to be home at last.

Only today, Jeffrey didn't come skipping into the house like his brothers because sadly, he had tripped and fallen outside.

"Oh, mom," Chris told me casually after he had been inside for a minute or so, "Jeffrey fell down outside."

"Where is he?" I asked.

"He's outside, lying in the driveway."

I open the garage door and go outside just as the nice man who happened to see Jeffrey flying and then falling, came running down the driveway. When Jeffrey didn't get up, you see, the guy actually turned his car around, parked, and came to Jeffrey's aid. Wasn't that nice of him?

So there was Jeffrey, lying there, in tears, waiting to be rescued. Of course, I would have gotten to him sooner if Chris or Joey had informed me sooner that he had fallen. It was barely an afterthought that Chris even remembered to tell me.

Apparently they didn't take Jeffrey too seriously, not even our neighbor who stated, "Well, at least it blends in with his hair."

Hmm, and what are you still doing over here anyway, Billy?

So, let me show you Jeffrey's bump. Because I like to share like that.

2010 In Review

2010-12-30T13:03:00.019-05:00

So, let's review the highlights of the year. If I really try hard, I can come up with a handful of good things, but the bad things still far outweigh them, sadly. I know, I know. I am usually a Glass Half Full kind of person but that really doesn't amount to much when the glass is half full of tears and sorrow and hurt.

Still, 2010 has to count for something, so let's see what we can come up with.

JANUARY
Oh, hello 2010! Let's hope it's going to be a great year!

Well, it came and went without much notice and we welcomed February.

FEBRUARY
I have nothing, sorry.

MARCH
March is always a welcome month because spring is so close and after a long and seemingly endless winter, spring is very much anticipated. My birthday is on the 3rd but really, it's just another day closer to spring. The best thing that happened this month was getting to see Martina McBride in concert. Of course, the day of the concert was basically a monsoon, but my friend and her daughter and I still spent the afternoon waiting for Martina's tweet that would give us a clue as to where the front row tickets to the concert were hidden. Totally worth it, because yeah, we found them.

APRIL
Again, nothing to write home about this month.

MAY
Ditto

JUNE
This is the month my cup started filling up with tears. But I'm not allowed to write about it, so I'll just leave it at that.

JULY
Oh, we took our family vacation after a respite of a few years to Myrtle Beach to visit my parents. The boys had fun and the weather was great and yeah, it was a good time.

AUGUST
August. This is the month my cup started overflowing with tears. Lauren has left a hole in my heart that I know will never be filled because nearly 5 months have passed and it is not getting any smaller. Time may help keep the cup from overflowing, but it will never fill that space with her gone from this life.

Sammie joined the family.

SEPTEMBER
I know, I know. I am supposed to highlight the good things that happened this year. Okay, let me think.

Does the fact that all four boys attend school full days count as something good?

OCTOBER
The leaves started to fall. Well, they really started to fall last month, but they started to fall A LOT this month.

Oh, wait! I remember something! We started to redo our kitchen and bathroom!

NOVEMBER
The kitchen finally got completed, mostly, save for the toe kicks that we are still waiting to be installed. But if you don't look down, you don't notice and the kitchen otherwise is functional and awesome and pretty. See?

I went to visit my sister and her family for Thanksgiving. I missed my boys but am so glad I went and got to spend time with my niece and nephews and sister and brother-in-law and some of their friends.

DECEMBER
Christmas came and went and now we wait for the new year.

The end. How was your year?

The Christmas tree

2010-12-26T17:10:00.016-05:00

Once upon a time, before the Millennium, and after a few years of going out to get a real tree, we splurged for a really nice flame-retardant tree at Naamco for $100. It was a great tree. So great, in fact, that visitors commented on how nice it was and asked if was real because, well, it even looked real.

In its early years, I set up the video camera and we'd video tape us decorating the tree. Our first dog, Mousse, loved to help. As the boys got older, they enjoyed putting their ornaments on the tree, and they were still young enough not to notice when I'd relocate them to balance out the tree.

Eventually, I ditched the video and settled for still snapshots, but even those were scarce.

And suddenly, a decade had past and the years started to show on our happy Christmas tree. So let's review. We will go back the last five years because the photos taken before that time were developed (as those taken now never are), and said photos are filed away chronically in photo boxes that I really don't care to rifle through and anyway, the scanner isn't working so even if I wanted to, I couldn't. You'll just have to take my word for it that the tree looked absolutely SPECTACULAR, even in 2006.

2006. Thankfully, the volume of gifts lessened with each passing year.

2007, still looking good. Apparently the tree was adorned with the angel this year.

2008. It could be 2007 all over again!

2009, and it's still standing tall, save for the top struggling to hold the star up. Maybe we should have stayed with the angel.

2010. I took the picture at a good angle, so you can't see it sadly tilting. But trust me, it is very much leaning. Can you see where the ornaments had to be moved because Sammie kept helping herself to them? Lots of bare, empty space at the bottom.

This photo shows the teetering a little better, as well as the bare spots. Trust me when I say there were no ornaments at the bottom of the tree, all around. No, if they didn't get eaten, they were saved and moved up, up, up.

Here it is naked. It looks even more slanted in person.

The husband says the tree is fine, that it is the stand that is crooked. I disagree. You see, I intend to take this tree down this year for the Very. Last. Time. I will set it in its original box and even pack the instructions (--yes, don't ask me how, but I managed to save those sacred instructions year after year so I knew the order to assemble the branches and followed them to the letter). Literally, I followed them to the letter the instructions gave me. N3, followed by M3, K3, J3, I3, H3, G2, F2 and F2.

Instructions. In case you don't believe I really do still have the original piece of paper. Original.

Today, Sammie actually managed to topple the tree over in one of her many attempts to eat yet another ornament off the tree.

See? Here she is looking as guilty as ever with an ornament in her mouth. A home-made ornament made by one of the boys, no less!

So, said tree will be packaged up, instructions and all. I'll even be generous and throw in the base because I'm thoughtful like that. Also because I intend to have a real tree next year and the year after that and so on, so I won't need a fake tree base.

If I was home this year, I would have quietly removed our tree from the home before the husband could protest and a real one would have taken its place. But I was visiting my sister and her family in IL, so the tree was put up by G and the boys.

I'll bet they didn't even read the handy instructions. Maybe that's why it was tilting...

The end. (of the 12-year-old Christmas tree. Bwahahahaha!)

Hello, world

2010-12-15T08:58:00.005-05:00

It's Wednesday. We made it to the middle of the week. And the morning is just as typical as any other.

Hello, world. How you been? Good to see you my old friend.

My list of things to do gets longer by the second. Nonetheless, I dive in, determined to get them accomplished. I make the boys breakfast while I multitask the other immediate needs. Joey shows me a notice asking for $3 for the holiday breakfast his class will have next week. It was due last Friday. I go in search of my usual hiding places for three $1 bills because it certainly isn't in my purse. I rarely carry cash.

Sometimes I feel as cold as steel. Broken like I'm never gonna heal.

"Mom," Joey reminds me, "I also need a stamped, self-addressed envelope." Another necessity for a class project. I give him an envelope and explain how he should address the envelope to himself. He goes for a pencil, but I tell him to use a pen. But there is not a single pen to be found. Where did all the pens go? No where, they are no where. "Just use a pencil, then," I give up on my search of a pen. But every pencil is broken, every mechanical pencil is missing lead, and the new electric pencil sharpener is wrapped and hidden away for the boys to open on Christmas morning.

Eventually, he finds a red pen, but I have long since moved on to the next project. I'm working on one of what will be several loads of laundry today. Some of it should have been done last night, but Tommy had interrupted my cycle to wash a single pair of sweatpants he planned to wear today. I can't lecture on him the impracticality of washing and drying a single item because he has already left for school.

I see a light, a little hope in a little girl. Oh, hello world.

The boys have finished breakfast, are getting dressed and ready to head out to wait for the bus. They rush to get out early so they can slide on the ice in the driveway. No, it didn't rain or snow recently. Christopher made several trips outside last night with bowls of water that he poured on the driveway, hopeful it would freeze overnight so they could entertain themselves while waiting for the bus this morning.

Of course, they bring Sammie out to play, too. I am thankful I didn't continue with the second level of puppy training because it seems with every progressive step I make with her and her adolescent puppy behavior, they undo it with their frolicking and playing. Today is no different. I am trying to get the trash out because today is trash pick up day in our section of town when Jeffrey comes in crying. Sammie pulled on his jacket and got hurt. As if provoking her and having her chase him around won't result in her coming after him. She is, after all, playing, as he wanted her to.

He stops mid-sentence, glances outside. I follow his gaze and we both watch the driver of the bus that had just picked up his brothers continue on to the next stop. There have been countless times when I have intercepted the bus coming back around the Cul-de-sac up the road, but not today. I am not even dressed, it is freezing out, and I have to go out in a while anyway. I tell Jeffrey to go watch cartoons, because I'll be driving him, only it won't be anytime soon.

Sometimes I forget what I'm living for and I hear my life through my front door. And I'll be there. Oh, I'm home again.

I'm drying my hair when Jeffrey tells me Sammie had an accident upstairs. I wonder how this could have possibly happened since only yesterday, I brought home a baby gate I loaned from a friend to block her from going upstairs. Jeffrey doesn't know how she got up there, but she did and when are we going because if we don't go soon, he will miss snack time at school.

I pull the van out of the garage, let it warm up while I gather my things together. I unwrap the memory quilt I have been making for my niece, ponder a moment as to whether I should include it in the box of gifts I still need to mail this week. The kids are understandably having a difficult time, and they are living in the house where she died just four months ago, with no plans to move. They can't even get a brief respite going to school because they are home schooled. No, perhaps now isn't the time to give them this. It might be better for all if I waited.

I take care of the mess upstairs, put Sammie in her crate, get the trash out and to the top of the driveway for pick up. I don't have time to make myself a cup of coffee. I get Jeffrey to school at 9:38. He is late, but he hasn't missed snack time. I stop at Dunkins for a large tea and a coffee for a long lost friend I'm going to see after I stop at the bank. My friend needs help with her computer, but I am there nearly 2 hours before we even get to the computer because we are deep in conversation, catching up on lost time. She is going through a difficult time, but still she smiles and stands proud for herself and her children. I have missed my old friend, but vow not to let time get away from me again and promise I'll be there to see her through this storm. That's what friends do, you know. They help each other no matter what, no matter when, no matter why.

All the empty disappears. I remember why I'm here. Just surrender and believe. I fall down on my knees. Hello, world.

Sammie's Thought Bubble

2010-12-09T20:16:00.002-05:00

New Kitchen, Garth, and a Flat Tire = My Week

2010-11-05T14:00:00.008-04:00

So my kitchen is coming along quite nicely. Although we are kind of in limbo at the moment and being in limbo since last Monday and not having the granite countertops scheduled to be installed until the 18th means 18 days of NO KITCHEN SINK. I really, really miss having a kitchen sink and using my dishwasher, because even though home cooked meals have been drastically limited to nearly none, cups and silverware inevitably get used and pile up and then I am forced to wash them in the bath tub and that is not fun. At all.

The main bathroom has been stripped of its two sinks, too. Do you know what that means? That means we have all had to use the upstairs bathroom sink. But at least we have a sink to use and don't have to brush our teeth in the bathtub, too.

This is ~~Garth~~ Ethan. He is the guy we hired to install our new cabinets. I had to take this photo without his knowledge because then he'd want to know why on earth I was even taking his picture. But doesn't he remind you of Garth Brooks?

Anyway, not only is he super talented with carpentry, but I discovered a couple of days ago that he is handy with cars, too. He arrived to continue with the project and informed me that I had a flat tire on my van.

Hmm. I suppose that would explain why that darn tire light was on. I did notice it, after all. And I pushed the little Reset button. And it went away. And then it came on again. But I noticed no flat tires, so I just kept pressing that Reset button, thinking it was confused and eventually would correct itself. I wasn't considering the fact that I had a slow leak due to the screw I had apparently driven over that lodged itself in my tire.

But Ethan, he saved the day. You see, he comes upon construction sites ALL THE TIME, and if he didn't have tire fix-it stuff, he'd be replacing a tire at least four times a year. So he fixed my tire and it wasn't even a temporary fix. It was PERMANENT. So I didn't have to go to a garage or use my full spare. Yay, me! Yay, Ethan!

So, as soon as those granite countertops are installed, I'll show you my new kitchen. But that may be two weeks away. I hope that tire gauge light goes off by then, because it's still on.

Sweet recollections

2010-10-18T18:27:00.015-04:00

I don't know if it is because she is gone, although I would venture to guess that it has a lot to do with the fact that my memories of her are recalled more and more lately. Perhaps it was because I had recently gone through old photos from that year. Either way, they are bittersweet memories I recall with sorrow now.

The first time I met her was this time 13 years ago. I was 8 months pregnant with Tommy, and flew out for a long weekend to visit Karen and her family in Tennessee, where they lived at the time. Although I had seen photos of her, this would be our first time meeting, and I was so excited.

I couldn't wait to see my sister. I couldn't wait to meet my new baby niece. Karen and her husband were blessed with a 22 month old son and recently with Lauren, and seemed to be the perfect little family. I think the fact that I would soon be a mother myself forced the feelings of envy back, because the fact that she even had a daughter certainly brought those emotions to the surface. A daughter. If there was ever anything I longed for in this life, it was to have a daughter.

But I knew I would. After I had my first child. Karen was just a couple of years ahead of me, but in a couple of years, we would be comparing Lauren's baby pictures with those of my daughter. I just knew it. In the meantime, I would get to spoil my baby niece as any aunt should.

Three months later, Karen would fly home to visit me and meet Tommy. Karen brought Lauren along for the long weekend away from her husband and toddler, and it was an unforgettable moment when we met at the airport. We hugged each other around our babies, and then instantly swapped babies. I handed Tommy to her and she handed Lauren to me. We marveled at them -- me at my niece who had grown so much, and her at Tommy, barely 2 months old, the same age Lauren was when I first met her.

It was a great weekend. We compared baby stories and visited our friends and our friends visited us. We were all green with motherhood, having our first and second children, and it was hard to believe how far we had all come from those college days and engagements and marriages and now babies.

Karen had a reason to visit home again in March: her friend was getting married. This time, she brought Lauren's older brother, and of course, Lauren herself. It was another opportunity to get the kids together, compare more stories, and visit with college friends.

And now, I wish I could relive those days again. Despite the fact that my boys are well beyond their babyhood years and the crib and car seats and strollers have long since been given away, I would do it all again, if only to get back those moments.

The denim hat

2010-10-14T22:02:00.005-04:00

When our kids were little, we used to hand down their baby clothes to each other. The good clothes, that is. Gymboree, Carter's, Osh Gosh B'Gosh and others who put out good quality clothing that lasted so well, they could be passed on to siblings and cousins.

The boys were all about the same age, so she'd ship me a box and I'd ship her a box after the boys had outgrown them. It worked out well and we saved a lot of money, even after the shipping costs. It was always exciting to have an outfit rotate back to me for one child's younger brother, in fact. I am still struck when I look at old photos and recognize one of my nephews wearing the same outfit one of my boys had worn, or visa versa.

Karen didn't send me the girls' clothes. There was no need, of course. But I got burping cloths or baby hats and whatever was unisex and could be used for either gender. And of course, I saved my favorite outfits the boys all wore, either collectively or individually and they are tucked away in a keepsake box just as the first tiny t-shirts and knitted baby hat each baby wore is tucked away in his own keepsake box.

Today, I emptied a chest that was in one of the boys' room. It had old letters from a college friend, cards and letters from G, and other odds and ends the boys had added over the years. At the bottom, under the stack of cards and letters, was the missing shoe from a favorite set I had bought for Joey. Surely I had saved the other shoe, determined to eventually find its mate? There was a pair of favorite pants Christopher had worn for his one year pictures.

And there was a denim baby hat. I had intended to save only my favorite baby outfits, and somehow, this baby hat had purposely been tucked away, although I couldn't remember why.

But I had recently seen it in a photo, and it gave me pause. I dug out the photo, examined it closely, scrutinizing the threaded pattern of the hat in the photo to the one in my hands. The denim had faded some, but yes, it was the same hat. Karen had sent it to me and perhaps I sent it back, and perhaps she sent it back to me again. I don't remember. But somehow, it never made its way back to her for the sons she had after I had my last, and now my reason for cherishing this hat is not the same as those I cherish the favorite few outfits my boys wore. This hat is a special keepsake not for my sons, but for my beloved niece, Lauren.

Some days, I miss her so much it hurts.

I love this American ride

2010-09-26T08:43:00.008-04:00

This was my 4th trip in as many months to see yet another country concert. Quite frankly, as excited as I was about seeing Toby Keith and Trace Adkins, I was glad it was the last because the drive to and from the Comcast Center was getting old. Granted, Jackie and I took turns driving, and I was supposed to drive for Toby's, but the Rascal Flatts / Kellie Pickler / Chris Young concert was just six days ago, on a Sunday, and since it had been postponed from a Saturday earlier in the month to a Sunday, I drove because Jackie had to get up early for work on Monday. So we switched and now she was going to drive us to see Toby and Trace.

We were on the road just after 4 PM, two country groupies excited about the night. We talked about work and kids and soccer and car crashes (don't ask) and listened to our favorite songs on the radio. We made good time and were nearly there, when suddenly she looked at me.

"You have the tickets, right?"

Oh yeah, those things. I guess we can't get past the gates without those, much less into the VIP parking lot with that parking ticket that says we were, after all, Very Important People who have frequented this place all summer long, claiming seats 27 and 28 in section 7, row L.

Well, I didn't need to answer her. The look on my face said it all. The tickets were still right where I left them, in the red desk in the hallway in the upper left hand cubby, the last ones in the envelope that held the tickets from the entire summer that I took out on each day they were needed to get us to the VIP parking lot and through the gates to seats 27 and 28 in section 7, row L. Yes, that's where they were. 1 hour and 32 minutes and 82 miles from where we were.

We had been making such good time, too.

I called home and asked my son what daddy was doing. "He's mowing the grass," Christopher said. "Can you get him for me?" I asked. "I need to talk to him." Surely he would mind a whole lot, but would still put the boys in the car and drive 30 minutes to the Burlington Mall with the tickets and meet us halfway so we wouldn't have to drive all the way back home.

So we backtracked, headed north again, only we got off the highway in Burlington. G and the boys met us in the parking lot, saving the day.

We made it back to Mansfield at 7, but by the time we could find a parking spot, after having kicked out the concert-goers tailgating in an empty parking space, made our way in, got ourselves drinks, and got to our seats, we had missed the first act. Nonetheless, the rest of the concert was chock full of awesomeness, even if we did have to do a lot of driving.

Jeffrey's journal

2010-09-16T08:24:00.013-04:00

Jeffrey, my first grader, is adjusting very well to his new school, thank you for asking. He has only visited the nurse two times within two consecutive days within the first three weeks of school, once when he bumped heads with another boy at recess and the next day when he fell back on his chair. Apparently he thought he might like to see if it would still rock on four legs.

The school had its open house last night for first through third graders, and I got to see where he sits and what he has been doing. We did get to visit the classroom the day before school started, but since then, his seat had been moved, of course. The teacher said the boys just all have to be separated at this age no matter what, but I wonder why they wouldn't separate them from the start. Surely, moving them had nothing to do with the fact that maybe they were catching up with each other after having not seen each other over the summer and maybe they were talking when they were supposed to be listening. Surely.

Jeffrey's teacher has them writing in a journal, and I got to see some of his entries. In his first entry, Jeffrey wrote about where he went on vacation.
See, I told you he had to be talking to his friends about it.

Jeffrey recently got to go to his very first Revolutions game. Heck, it was my first game, too.

But you can see what a big fan he is.

Just a few days later, he wrote about our beloved dog, Mousse, whom we lost tragically even before Jeffrey was born. Mousse was a chocolate Lab, but I can probably guess why he colored him yellow.

It probably had to do with this cutie.

I can't wait for Parent/Teacher Conferences to see what else he will write about. Probably the new refrigerator we just got and the kitchen that will soon get a facelift. But I'm just guessing.

Heirlooms in the house

2010-09-04T19:07:00.010-04:00

You know how I love antiques, right? I especially love them when they have history attached to my history as in, they once belonged to my great-ancestors.

In my house, I have an assortment of antiques, some even with stories. Well, they all have stories, really, but there are some, I'll admit, whose stories are and will always be a mystery to me. But they are still pretty neat, so they are part of my collection.

Visuals, I will give you some. But only the ones with the known stories and because, well, I have too much other stuff and then where would I stop and it's just stuff after all.

Every teacher who appreciates antiques would want this ruler in his or her classroom. It was my grandfather's. They just don't make them like that anymore.

Imagine having to mix things with this? It is a pretty neat contraption and, I might add, still works. Belonged to my paternal grandmother.

Can you guess what this is? It also still works. My 8-year-old guessed right away, so you probably can too. Think logically, like an 8-year-old would! The answer should come to you.

This was my paternal grandfather's "strong box" as he liked to call it. I think it's pretty cool.

Some of the linens in this basket were crocheted by my aunt and paternal grandmother. I don't know what that hammer thing is but here's what I'm calling it -- a Gong. If you know, please share so I can call it by its correct name, or else it will be known as the Gong.

I noticed this hanging on the wall in the basement that was once my grandparents. My aunt lived there but was planning a move out of state, so I boldly asked if I could have it. I have to find a place to hang it in my house now.

Nice lamp, huh? I admired this every time I went to visit my maternal grandparents and then when my grandfather planned to move to Florida, he gave me some things and I asked if I could have this lamp along with the beautiful hutch and buffet that belonged to them for so many years.

My aunt didn't want to take the pink depressed glassware with her on her move, so she gave that to me, too. It belonged to my paternal grandparents. The bone china belonged to my maternal grandparents. I think they look lovely in that hutch, don't you?

Old milk bottles on display here. Those are just the boys' marbles in one because don't I keep finding them all over the floor all over the house and now we have a puppy and the sound of a puppy choking on a marble is not a sound I want to ever have to hear, so there they set in the bottle. These were my paternal grandparents'.

And this is not just a desk. No, within its hidden confines is a beautiful Singer. Ms. Singer and I, we will be spending a lot of time together in the next few months. Check out the box to the left. Chock full of threads of every imaginable color. Eat your heart out, Martha Stewart. Oh, this belonged to my Aunt Toula and was given to me by another aunt who had kept it several years after Aunt Toula had passed away.

One of my favorite, favorite items recently acquired, this antique baby carriage. It was my aunt's and she was saving it to hopefully pass on to a granddaughter one day but she has two adorable grandsons and again, she was downsizing in her move, so she asked if I wanted it, even though she knew I have no daughters, nor would I ever have any daughters. But someday, I may have granddaughters (God willing, please, just one would mean the world to me), so rather than throw it or give it away, my aunt thankfully recognized my appreciation for things like these and offered it to me. I will display it as a piece of furniture in my house, and sadly, I may have to even include a sign directed towards the boys that will say, "DO NOT TOUCH - NOT FOR PLAY" because if I don't, then I don't have to tell you what could happen to it.

And if there is anything of value in this house, well, these pretty much sum them up. But they are all priceless to me.

Sammie

2010-08-23T15:00:00.006-04:00

It took us less than a minute to give her a name. "How about Paisley?"

"No."

"How about Sweet Pea?"

"No!"

"How about Sam?"

"No" did not echo back to me. No protests. They liked it. And since nobody objected, it became official. Her name was Sammie.

Yesterday, I brought Sammie home to live with us. We had been discussing her for a while, actually. Not *her* per se, but getting a puppy in general. And we almost all went to Brentwood to pick out who was left of the litter, which was 2 females and 1 male and honestly, if they had all come with me, Sammie would not be in the house right now. It would be her brother. But it was time for a girl. I needed to welcome a girlfriend into the house.

I lost two special girls this summer, you see. My heart was just starting to heal from losing my little friend in June when I lost my sweet niece, Lauren, earlier this month. Heartbreaking, it was. Broken hearts do heal, thankfully. But I needed some happy RIGHT NOW. And her name is Sammie.

If Lauren was here, she would be celebrating her birthday today, all 13 years. I think of her and get teary-eyed and sad, because the worst thing I ever had to do was say goodbye to her two weeks ago, barely on the heels of having to say goodbye to Yvie in June.

But some good has come from their passing. Yes, some. It has brought our families closer together, made me appreciate what I have and to realize new true friends I never knew I had. We would have welcomed a new puppy into our home eventually, but I don't know if it would have been Sammie, or if it would have even been a girl, if the series of events would have brought us to here and now and what we have today and what we will wake up to tomorrow.

Welcome home, Sammie.

Holiday weekend = birthdays and soccer games

2010-07-09T11:25:00.012-04:00

I missed Joey's 8th birthday last Friday. Not intentionally. In fact, until last week, I have never missed any of my boys' birthdays over the last 12 years. Ever.

Until this year. Why? Well, I had to be in West-by-Gawd-Virginia for our eldest son's soccer tournament championship. And while that may seem really fun and exciting, it was mostly not for me. A fourteen hour bus ride down and back was never on my Bucket list of things to do and it only left me with too much time to think and dwell on events of the days before that were the saddest of my life. (My little friend had passed away.)

Still, I managed to keep my emotions in check and dutifully cheered on the boys like any parent would do, despite their unfortunate losses. While they proved to be the best soccer team for their division in New Hampshire, earning them the privilege to participate in the 2010 Youth Soccer Region I Championships, we were able to see the talent of the all-star teams they rivaled, with crystal clarity no less. If our boys want to participate in next year's championships, they now know the work they have ahead of them.

But there were some fun parts during the trip. It wasn't a total bust. Dinner out with old friends, making new friends, checking out a college town (Marshall University), thankfully made the entire experience worthwhile. And Huntington, West Virginia does put on a decent display of fireworks to celebrate Independence Day. I also learned a whole lot while I was down there, especially how no matter where you go or what you do, politics will always prevail, and there are a lot of people with the same last name of Jones.

Joey still got his cake. Three, to be exact: a giant cupcake his best friend's mom made for him, a cake our neighbors got when they celebrated over the weekend, sans Yours Truly, and the ice cream cake I bought him after I returned home.

I will have had a 10-day respite before we embark on our 20-hour drive to Myrtle Beach, just G and me and the three younger boys in our trusty minivan. Tommy went ahead with my parents after the tournament ended. They drove from Myrtle Beach to Huntington to watch him play and took him back home with them. Yay for him and yay for us and yay for summer and birthdays and soccer.

The Last Day

2010-06-16T20:56:00.002-04:00

It's done. The Stanley boys are officially Moose Hill Kindergarten alumnae. Jeffrey disembarked the Kindergarten bus for the last time today.

I suppose I should feel a little sentimental.

But those sentimental feelings, I'm just not feeling them. At all.

You know that light I have talked about over the years? The one that was really dark and then slowly, it got brighter and brighter over time? That light. It is practically a floodlight now. And I can't help it; I just want to dance in that ~~spotlight~~ light. Why, you ask? Because in a little over two months from now, when the big yellow bus rolls up to pick up the kids for their first day of school, Jeffrey will be getting on that bus with his brothers. And he won't be returning home until somewhere around 3:30 PM. Do you know what that means?

That means that I have done my time. I have been home for the boys in their early years and now I can rejoin the great employment world. Oh, I am already employed. I have been for the last couple of years, actually. But it is just 10 hours each week, and really, it's more like a hobby than a job because it's a great job and I love working at my church with really great people. But I am eager to add more to the income because the older they get, the more we seem to spend on their extra curricular activities. Okay, the activities are just soccer, but multiplied by 3 and eventually 4, that is a lot of soccer money.

So. Seven hours, five days a week -- at least in a typical school week -- with NO shortlings at home. That light is probably just reflecting off of me, because I am surely beaming about what is yet to come.

But first, summer. Bring it.

Improvisions

2010-06-15T21:14:00.007-04:00

I like coffee. (I know; who doesn't, right?) Iced coffee, actually. And I'm a fan of Dunkins' like just about everybody else, but I don't mind brewing it at home, and I usually do. I make a gallon ahead of time, refrigerate it, and make myself a tall cup every morning. I make more as I need to, usually twice a week.

Last week, I made some and when I went to put the carafe away, it slipped out of my hands, crashed to the floor, and broke into pieces. I didn't think about it again until I ran out of coffee, which was yesterday, which required me to make a stop at Dunkins this morning. But Jeffrey was happy, because it meant he got a donut.

So before I left work today, I took a spare carafe to use to make my coffee. But it was too big.

So I came up with another solution.

But I lost half of what was brewed trying to pour it from the pan into the storage container.

So I found a better solution, except it only could hold 1/4 of what I needed, and that just wastes coffee filters.

Look! No hands!

I'm probably good until the weekend. Then I suppose I will need to go and splurge on the $10 it will cost for the replacement carafe. For a mere $2 more, I'll bet I can get me a brand new coffee maker. Really, why am I making these ridiculous improvisions?

A decade of Yvie

2010-06-09T11:04:00.007-04:00

This is my friend, Yvie.

I met Yvie a couple of years ago, but we didn't become really good friends until last year, when her baby sister was born. It is funny how a series of events change the course of the path of your life when you least expect it.

Yvie has many medical issues and requires constant round-the-clock care. As her mother always says, "It takes a village to raise Yvie," and this village, while it changes over the course of time, has grown bigger and stronger in the last year alone. That is when Yvie's baby sister was born.

I work part-time at my church where Yvie and her family are active members, and I can remember the day I found out a baby was expected. I remember thinking how great it was and prayed for a healthy baby for the family. Sarah arrived in late February, a tiny infant weighing less than 6 lbs. Everybody knows babies love to be held as much as people love holding babies. And with Yvie's needs, her mom expressed the need for lots of baby holders. So whenever I went to work and somebody mentioned Karen and asked if I minded going over to hold the baby, I jumped at the opportunity. See?

Well, I visited when I was needed, happy to help out when I could, and over the course of time, my time between Sarah and Yvie was split, and when Sarah was in somebody else's care, I'd sit with Yvie and we'd read or watch DVDs or color. I couldn't help it; without even trying, she stole my heart and there was no getting it back.

I started to visit with the boys, who adored baby Sarah, and who would spend time with Yvie, too. It got to the point where they were begging me almost every night to go to Yvie's house. By then, we were coming and going without the need for an invitation. We were always welcome, no matter what kind of day they were having, and the boys loved going over to play or eat or just visit.

Yvie turned 10 last month. Her doctors didn't expect her to survive this long. And while she is not going to get better, and it seems every illness sets her back a little more than before, we celebrate every day she is here with us, no matter how bad the day may turn out to be. Raising a child with special needs, compounded with complex medical issues, along with trying to balance the rest of the family, is in and of itself an unbelievable challenge. Hence the need for a village, and I am so thankful to be a part of Yvie's village.

Want to know more about this special little girl? Go to her website
and read more about her. If you wish to donate towards the ramp and lift that are needed to modify her home and give her easier access to the second floor and in and out of the house, then you can be part of the village, too. It's a really cool village to be in. I know. So do my boys. You can even ask them.

Good cop, bad cop: Part II

2010-06-02T21:14:00.007-04:00

Because of course, there IS a part II and I would be remiss not to share it with you.

I did pass by the construction site today, more than once, but our friend, Officer X, was not there. Maybe they all have to divide the overtime evenly. Or maybe he had something better to do and opted not to work OT. Either way, he wasn't there.

Now, let me set the scene for you. Those of you familiar with our happy little town know the 'T' intersection that is Pillsbury Road that if you are traveling heading East on the eastern side of Mammoth Road and turn right, will continue on Pillsbury Road to a Stop sign, or if you turn left, will take you onto Hardy Road. Drivers on Hardy Road and Pillsbury Road that come to this intersection must stop before proceeding; however, drivers on Pillsbury Road have the right of way. Okay, now do you have this visual in your head? Good. Here is what happened.

I was driving on Pillsbury, preparing to turn left onto Hardy. Drivers were stopped at the Stop signs in either direction, however the car on Pillsbury that was going straight onto Hardy proceeded without coming to a complete stop. This is typical for this intersection, and you have to be cautious all the time. So this car proceeded and I turned left behind him. The patrol car that was behind this car stopped at the sign, and then proceeded through. And then he turned on his lights. I pulled over. At first, I thought he was going to pass me to go after the car in front of me for not coming to a complete stop and essentially cutting me off, but he didn't. He pulled up behind me.

He got out of his car and approached mine and guess who it was? "Oh, I see," I stated when I saw him. Until I saw who it was, I was still trying to figure out why I was pulled over because I knew I did nothing wrong.

"License and registration, please?"

"Why did you pull me over?" I demanded.

"License and registration," with more authority this time.

I bit my tongue because I knew I'd regret what I wanted to say, and handed over my license. While I was looking for the registration, he stated, "The reason I pulled you over is because you didn't use your signal to turn."

Well. I gave him an incredulous look. "I don't have to use my signal to turn. You let the car in front of me cut me off and you pulled me over for not using my directional? I have the right of way. I don't have to use it."

He stood firm, but I could tell he looked deflated, apparently not pleased that I was not showing fear or that I was telling him what I knew to be fact. "Yes, you turned left and you should have used your left-hand signal."

"Oh, come on! ~~Can't you just let yesterday go and move on and stop wasting my time with your silly bullying games?~~"

I hadn't yet found the registration to give to him when he handed my license back to me. "Slow it down," he said as he walked back to his car.

Slow it down? Who said anything about anybody speeding?

I told you he was a jerk.

Good cop, bad cop

2010-06-01T14:23:00.004-04:00

One of my biggest pet peeves is when somebody is downright rude for no reason other than the fact that perhaps it makes him feel good. And when I encounter an individual like that, it really bothers me. Shame on that person, for there is a special place in hell for people like you.

There has been extensive road construction going on on a nearby road in town, and today I came upon it for the umpteenth time. I had to stop to let the cars in the opposite direction go through, after which time I was given the hand signal to proceed. Well, apparently I proceeded a little too fast, and was given the "slow down" signal. So I slowed down. The next officer motioned for me to slow as well, but he must have felt like reprimanding me anyway, because he yelled for me to stop. So I stopped. I rolled down the passenger side window and Officer X approached my car.

"That's way too fast to be going in a construction zone," he barked at me. "Do you understand that?" Like I was some kind of idiot driver.

~~"Well, officer, since I got the message clearly from the first officer and since you didn't stutter, yes, I got it."~~ "Yes," I said flatly before proceeding on.

Now, here's the thing that really irritated me. It wasn't the fact that I was stopped to be told to slow down. If I was going too fast, then I certainly deserved to be reminded I was in a construction zone. But it was his surly manner about it all that bothered me, and had he simply said, "Please slow it down in a construction zone", I would have responded with a sincere, "Sorry officer, will do." But because he chose to be an a$$ about the whole thing, I wasn't about to let it go.

Instead of heading home as I had planned, I detoured and looped around so that I'd have to drive past the officer ~~who was probably angry he got stuck on traffic duty again~~. This time, there was a truck in front of me and we were stopped. When we were allowed to pass, I drove at a snail's pace. Of course, I wanted to make sure I was going slow enough through the construction zone.

The first officer had a puzzled look on his face, obviously wondering why I was not moving along fast enough, as was the disgruntled one, Officer X. When he recognized me, he started clapping. So I clapped back, so proud of myself for doing it right this time.

So, why would Officer X feel the need to be rude to me? Well, perhaps he really was disappointed to be stuck on traffic duty, but given his size, he wouldn't be much help doing much of anything else, like chasing down bad guys. Too many donuts being on the force for twenty odd years will do that to you. At least he wasn't stuck behind a desk.

Or maybe he wanted to show off to the first officer, show him who was boss because clearly, that officer motioning for me to slow down wasn't enough or Officer X wouldn't have felt the need to stop and bark at me.

Now, he probably was thinking the same things about me in his head as I was thinking about him as I drove past both times, but perhaps after the second time, he might have considered his actions and decided he didn't have to be so blatantly rude. Or not.

Did I mention the very spot where they are doing this construction is right in front of where I work? Maybe tomorrow I'll walk to work and when I have to go past the construction zone, I'll be sure to walk very slowly, because I'd probably be reprimanded if I ran past it.

It wasn't all just litter

2010-05-16T20:36:00.004-04:00

Today, I have been really, really itchy. I usually manage to contract Poison Ivy from the fuzzy leaves in my own yard, but this year, I got a good dose of it while I picked up litter along a heavily traveled road where ignorant drivers don't seem to have a problem tossing out their trash as they drive down the road.

This is the third year I picked up litter, in fact, and only because a kind resident who lives not far from me took it upon himself to pick up the litter on my road did I decide to do a different road where the trash was abundant, thanks to all those litter bugs. I, along with many other caring individuals, volunteered some time to beautify our town one one day or another between mid-April and mid-May. Hey, we even have a name for our mission: Beautify Londonderry.

So, I was supposed to complete this project on April 17, but the forecast called for rain. Not just rain, but miserable, pouring rain. And did I have to go out in the rainy cold day? Hell, no. I postponed it to the first weekend in May. But then something else came up on that Saturday, so I postponed it again. And you know what? If I hadn't, I might not have been so lucky to find what I did, so it just goes to show you: Timing. Is. Everything.

I put it out there to my friends that I'd be picking up litter on Auburn Road and I would be happy to have them join me. But nobody did. Not because they didn't want to, but because they had ~~better things to do~~ other commitments. Still, I was relieved that I could count on one individual, Linda, who I had yet to meet, who had offered way back in early April, to help me pick up litter on my road as long as I helped her pick up litter on hers. But that resident I mentioned? Well, he happens to live on the same road she does and of course, he went ahead and picked up trash on her road before he picked it up on my road, so she was okay with that and we agreed we'd just go ahead and do another road that was in dire need.

She emailed me Friday night to make sure we were still on, and I confirmed that we were, but that we'd be a small group because I wasn't getting the response I had hoped for from others. Still, she said she'd be there. And I was extremely relieved because on Saturday morning, when my 10-year-old had said he'd help and at the last minute, he bailed on me, I knew it was just going to be the two of us, which is better than just me because I would have been really embarrassed to have a cruiser following behind just me with the lights flashing while I picked up trash. Everybody knows it's more exciting to have a partner. And Linda proved to be a great partner; funny, witty, and ready to go.

We opted to break the rules, be rebels, and didn't wear the orange safety vests. We had a cruiser with lights flashing behind us, after all. The vests would be overkill. And while the officer wasn't the cute patrolman I had hoped for, she was cool nonetheless. I recognized her from town as just one of the guys, a little rough around the edges, someone who will tell it like it is and put you in your place should you need to be put in your place. So, Shannon put on her lights and we set off to make a difference.

It wasn't long into our task when there, just setting among the disheveled stone walls, leaves, and debris, was a $100 bill. Not $1. Not $10. $100. I picked it up, inspected it, and even had officer Shannon check it out. She confirmed it was for real. I even heard her on the phone later when I went to get more trash bags from the cruiser telling a colleague what I found. I couldn't believe my luck. I told Linda she would get half, and why not? It was just her and me and a whole lot of litter before us. She deserved it as much as I did.

Now I know what you're thinking. You're wondering why in the world I offered to give half of my find to Linda. At least, that is what my 12-year-old asked me and coming from a pre-teen, I can understand his disbelief. But I told him what I will tell you: she deserved it, too. And she could have just as easily have found it instead of me. It's a win-win for both of us. Would I have offered to split it if it was 10? Probably not. But $100 is a generous amount of money, especially when you aren't expecting anything else in return, and I knew it would be selfish not to share it, and I wouldn't have enjoyed my luck. So, Linda, she was getting half.

Later on, on the other side of the road, Linda found $1. And you know what? She offered to split her findings with me!

Excuse me while I go get some Cortisone. Linda wore pants, while I wore shorts. She is obviously the smart one. We still made a good team, Linda and me. We cleaned up half of the entire length of the road (another volunteer group had done the western half of the road earlier in the month), and profited with $50.50 between us. That's more than half of any amount of gratitude we could ever achieve, don't you think?

Walking on, walking on broken glass. Lalala.

2010-05-06T19:47:00.007-04:00

I swept out the garage today. I actually had been meaning to do it for some time, but I just hadn't gotten around to it, what with all the other little things I have going on. And sweeping out the garage was not on my list of things to do today. At all. But now it's done, and I suppose I should maybe thank my son for that.

Want to know how I came about to having to sweep out the garage? I'll show you.

See this window?

That's right. It's broken. I realized it was broken when Chris asked me could I please move my van into the garage so he'd have more room to catch the little helicopters that were falling all around outside in the driveway. You know those little helicopter things that fall from the trees this time of year. Those helicopters.

So I saw something shiny and sparkly amid the dirt on the garage floor and upon closer inspection, realized it was shards of broken glass. But from where did it come? I have to admit, at first I never suspected it was from the window because the blinds were drawn and from inside, they concealed the gaping hole of the broken glass. But once I realized there was no other logical place where it came from, I peered intently through the blinds and saw that gaping hole. And my jaw dropped.

Want to know why my jaw dropped? Because it wasn't because the window was broken. It was because when I picked up my oldest son to take him to his skills session at the Sports Zone, he never said a word to me about how the soccer ball he was kicking around made contact with the window and broke it. Maybe he thought I wouldn't notice. Maybe he thought I wouldn't suspect him. I don't really know. But when I picked him up an hour later, after having swept out the entire garage and questioned him about it, he told me in disbelief, "I only kicked the soccer ball at it once!" Imagine that. That finicky window had the nerve to break after being hit only once by a fast flying soccer ball being kicked. What are the odds of that happening, really? It was just dumb luck, after all. That 25 year old window surely shouldn't have dared to crack, much less break. Both panes, no less. Maybe if it was tempered it wouldn't have broken.

Did you know that my boys don't have a big interest in playing baseball? You would have thought that surely one of their foul balls would have found its way through a window of the house at some point while they played in the yard. It just goes to show that soccer balls can do just as much damage, if not more. Bigger ball, bigger hole. Simple.

I'm sure the temporary band-aid wil give the home lovely curb appeal until the window gets replaced. With tempered glass, of course.

The police man

2010-05-03T20:04:00.004-04:00

Don't strain your eyes trying to read Joey's amazing story. I'll write it down for you, word for word, verbatim:
******************************************
The Policeman illistrated by Joey Stanley written by Joey Stanley

Ritten by Joey Stanley 3/25/10

When i grow up i want to be a police man! Because you can under arest people it will be fun mabye my freinds will be a police to. I hope on the first day i start being a police i will under arest somone. I really want to ride in a police car. The first day would be probably a good day my boss would wellcome me to police land. I hope when i grow up i will be a police man! Why do i want to be a police man because they have a gun to carry around! It will be so fun being a police. Do you want to be a police man? That's why i want to be a policeman!
*****************************************

Now. You tell me that isn't destined to be a best seller.

Home is where vacation starts

2010-04-24T10:34:00.003-04:00

Spring vacation has officially begun. The forecast calls for half a week of rain. As if that should be any surprise at all. I'll bet the sun shines all week long in Florida.

Unlike their peers, the boys will be having what I like to call a Staycation Week. In other words, we aren't going anywhere. More specifically, we aren't going to run into half of the town on Main Street, USA in Disney World because we don't fall into the group of families who have the privilege of going there for what seems to be their annual tradition. In fact, we have yet to even get there, but someday we will. They say someday never comes, but it does. Eventually, someday.

No, we will make the best of the week off not boarding yellow buses to and from school, and getting to play outside longer because we have no homework, seeking out the friends who are on Staycation like we are.

But we have something to look forward to, yes we do. If you ask 6-year-old Jeffrey if he has plans for his vacation week, he will stand tall, put his hands in his pockets and state, "No, we aren't going anywhere for vacation." (Emphasis on the word 'anywhere'.) "But in July, we're going to South America!"

So there, all you Florida frequenters. How many of you are going to go to South ~~Carolina~~ America in July?

It's a match, finally

2010-04-21T08:30:00.004-04:00

I like antiques. I especially like heirloom antiques handed down generation to generation. I feel fortunate that I have a handful of items that once belonged to my grandparents. They furnish my home with the rest of what I'd like to call mish mash furniture. That is, various items bought over the years from antique dealers, second-hand stores, or do-it-yourself-stores. Mostly, I'm partial to antiques. But I already said that.

So. I acquired some dining room pieces from my grandfather several years ago. Basically, I got the hutch, buffet, and another piece, along with a lamp I admired all through my childhood year, bone china, and other various items. Those dining room pieces are the best pieces of furniture in my house. And I love them. I've always admired them growing up. Perhaps because some of my best memories are when the family gathered around the dining room table at my grandparents' home. But my grandparents had long since gotten rid of the table that went with the rest of the set, so for the last several years, my dining room set was incomplete. I mean, I had seating for guests, but the table was one I had gotten from an unfinished furniture store and finished and it was originally purchased for our small kitchen.

And on the rare occasion when I got to a consignment or antique store, I'd look for a dining room table with enough chairs that would go with the hutch and buffet. I'd know it when I found it.

Well, I found it. And it wasn't in a store, but on the well known site Craigslist. Even better, I got it for a steal from kind and gentle people who took excellent care of the set. Want to see?

There are also two leafs that extend the table to seat a dozen people. And I got not 4 seats, not 6, but 8. Seating for eight.

I got the table with two leafs and 8 chairs for $300. The furniture originated from Gardner, MA. Anybody who knows furniture knows that good, quality furniture came from Gardner, MA. And I know they could have gotten way more money for it.

Here is a picture of my Gram taken in 1972 that shows the hutch with her table and chairs.

So if you come and visit, we will be gathering in the dining room, mostly.

A very shiny night

2010-03-15T16:25:00.009-04:00

Last night, some of my peeps and I went to see Martina McBride and Trace Atkins for Martina's Shine All Night Tour. I purchased the tickets back on the very first day Martina's fan club members could purchase them before they went on sale to the public. So I got really good seats, only 16 rows back from the stage.

But.

I planned to be in the front row. And guess what? I was.

Martina typically hides a couple sets of tickets on the day of each performance in the cities she visits. Not everybody knows this, or follows her on Twitter, but some of us die-hard fans do, and a handful of us all hung around the rainy, soggy city yesterday afternoon, anxiously waiting for her tweet with the first clue to where the first set of tickets were hidden. She finally tweeted this message:

2:13 PM Mar 14th via web
Manchester NH! First clue for front row tickets coming in 10 minutes!

We knew this because we saw her and some others returning to the Arena, having just hidden the tickets.

Well, wasn't that the longest 10 minutes of our lives. Finally, the clue:
1st Clue for tickets to Manchester concert: This is a "Rad" place to find lodging for the night...

So we zoomed off to the nearby Radisson Hotel, ran inside and began our hunt. We noticed two other couples there, looking for the same white envelope that we were. Eventually, our persistence paid off, and my friend Jackie found them between the seat cushions in the lounge/sitting area of the lobby.

After we finished jumping up and down with joy, we had one of the security officers there take our picture and tweeted it back to Martina with the code on the envelope:

@martinamcbride Code 4125. See you tonight!! http://twitpic.com/18lw2c

And then we waited. And we waited, and waited and waited. Meanwhile, the unlucky fans also looking for the tickets with us tweeted Martina: NHgall @martinamcbride OMG,I was on my knees few feet away from girl who found them. Trying to surprise a local army wife who's hubby's in Iraq / MelissaV1998 @martinamcbride is there another set??? we were so close....

Sorry, NHgall and Melissa.

Eventually, I managed to convince my two sidekicks that there was not going to be a second set of tickets, although Martina usually informs her fans either way. We would just have to take turns with the two tickets. Finally, Martina tweeted back:

@martinamcbride Code 4125. See you tonight!! http://twitpic.com/18lw2c /via @KerriStanley congrats! Have a great time!!

Haha. As if we wouldn't have a great time. We headed back to Jackie's to change, pick up Suz, and and headed off to meet friends at Margarita's for dinner and drinks before heading over to the show. While she was in her dressing room she tweeted this message: COLD and rainy in Manchester, NH. We are gonna heat up the place tonight!

Cold and rainy. It was practically a monsoon. But we didn't care because we had Front. Row. Seats.

Needless to say, we had a phenomenal time. Despite the fact that there were only 2 tickets, we managed to outsmart security and all three of us enjoyed most of the concert from the front row. If we could have gotten our friends up there with us, it would have been great, but the risk was too great. Still, from the 16th row, they enjoyed the show and Suz did manage to shake Martina's hand, a unsuccessful feat by Jackie and me.

So, highlights? Here they are:

After shaking our hands, Trace shook Zach's hand and gave him his Stetson. Zach was nice enough to let us take turns taking pictures in it.

This is Mark, Martina's guy. He had to go off and get Martina after he let me pose with him for a picture.

And finally, Martina's last tweet for Manchester:
OK. Manchester,NH was amazing. Again,very happy people.Lots of singing along.Lots of excitement. Dancing. I'm in my dressing room smiling.

A smily, shiny night. That's what it was. Even with the monsoon flooding the city.

Addendum: 3/25/10. Listen to Martina's live chat w/fans. Yours truly is Kerri Lynne. :) Click on the title of this post to listen!

The mall scene isn't what it used to be

2010-02-26T11:07:00.006-05:00

I don't make it a point to frequent malls. In fact, I do whatever I can to stay clear of them and only venture in when I have a valid reason to have to go. And since the nearest Apple store is in a mall near where I live, and I had to go visit them to resolve a technical issue with my Macbook, I took Chris and Jeff with me the other night.

Chris and Jeff don't remember our visits to the mall when they were little. Chris doesn't remember because he was probably just a baby being pushed in a stroller and Jeff doesn't remember because, well, by the time he came along, I likely didn't step foot in one with four shortlings in tow. Hello, I'd like to think I was never *that* desperate.

So, Chris, Jeff and I went to the mall the other night and you might have thought I was taking them to Disney World. I'll bet you never knew how much fun escalators can be when you don't ride them often. And the food court? So many choices in one place. Although Jeff couldn't understand where the remote controls were for all the mounted television monitors.

It occurred to me that perhaps I was sheltering them too much since they were awestruck at the most common things we see every day. Until we came across the pool with the giant bubbles in it, with other shortlings INSIDE the giant bubbles.

And then I realized that perhaps I was myself sheltered too much because when did these come about and how come I never saw them before now?

I will not be at all surprised when the next time I have to go visit the Apple store, I'll see a giant roller-coaster, and shoppers will be allowed to use the Segways that the mall cops use to get around.

I did say that, didn't I?

2010-02-16T09:38:00.002-05:00

You know how karma can come back and trick you? When you say something that you know will work to your advantage, because it just will and you don't question it. At all. But then somehow the impossible actually happens and you are so screwed.

That happened to me. Let me tell you about it.

Last night, I went to visit my little friend, Yvie and asked Jeff to come with me because really, he had no other choice. G had taken Joey and Chris to their soccer skills session and while Tommy was home, I wasn't about to let him supervise Jeff, since I can barely trust him to supervise himself. So, Jeff needed to come with me, only he was reluctant to because he was in the middle of playing with his Cars ensemble. You know, Ramone and Dinoco and Rust-Eze and the crew. In case you didn't know it already, Jeff is their biggest fan.

I suggested that he bring his racing friends along to play with at Yvie's, but he was certain that Yvie's baby sister with certainly steal them, so that wouldn't work, despite my insistence that she just thinks he's cool and so whatever toys he has are cooler and so what if she wanted to check them out? In the end, I made him a promise. "Jeff, if it doesn't snow tomorrow, I'll take you to the store to get a prize." And that was good enough for him and off we went for our visit.

I made this simple promise because there was a 100% chance that we were getting snow. So much snow, in fact, that school might even be canceled. Of course, I secretly hoped and prayed that school would not close because another snow day would inevitably push the last day of school in June out another day. So yes, I was certain there would be snow, but it wasn't going to hit our area until well after the kids were in school, and once they got there, school lunches would be delivered and well, once that step is taken you can't undo it and so the kids would be better off just finishing out the day at school. At the most, they would probably cancel afternoon Kindergarten, but it would have already started to snow and surely it would be in our best interest to just stay off the slippery roads and that is what I would tell Jeffrey when he asked to go get his prize that I promised him the night before. "I'm sorry, Jeffrey, but you'll have to wait another day because look, it's snowing out."

That was my plan. It didn't turn out that way. At all.

I was in the middle of a dream that the boys were all heading off to school when G came to wake me up at 5:45 AM to say the principal had sent an email announcing that the superintendent had canceled school for today.

Seriously? It wasn't even snowing outside. But okay, I ventured to guess it would start to fly at any minute.

It is now 10:00 AM. The snow has yet to fly. A snow day without the snow, that's what this is. And that karma I mentioned? It came back to slap me in the face in the form of a 5-year-old reminding me of the promise I made to him yesterday. "Hey mom, remember you said that if it wasn't snowing today we'd go to Toys R Us? It's not snowing, so when are we going?"

Karma and mother nature and weather people, here is what I have to say to you:

(Never mind. It's too bad to write down so I'm keeping it all in my head.)

Ashes and laundry don't mix

2010-01-19T17:13:00.005-05:00

Today's lesson is about fire hazards. Most of us know the typical hazards that can occur if we aren't careful. For instance, falling asleep while smoking can result in disastrous consequences. Leaving a candle burning unattended is another risk you take in hoping it doesn't go awry. You should never toss water over a burning pan in an attempt to put the fire out because it will only expand the flames. Likewise, don't leave a pot cooking on a stove unattended. You get the idea. Logical things you know you shouldn't do to avoid a horrible fiery accident that could burn down the building and leave nothing but smoldering remains.

My husband faithfully starts a fire for us every wintry morning before he leaves for work. We do what we can to save on heating expenses and utilize our wood stove insert nearly every cold day we endure over the course of what can be a long and arduous winter. Anyway, each morning he empties the ashes from yesterday's fire into a metal bucket. Where he empties the ashes is still a mystery to me, but I suppose it is somewhere outside in the woods. And said bucket is emptied when it is full and it usually takes about 3 days' worth of ashes before it has to be emptied. Until that time, the bucket is carried from the living room to the kitchen and placed on the kitchen table. Why he doesn't keep going out the door past the table and leave it in the garage or outside the back door is a question I ask myself more than once. Then again, it is not the only thing he does that is half-@ss, and I can only chalk this up to one of those tasks.

So. Today I was folding laundry at the table and soon detected an odd smell. Freshly laundered clothes don't usually emit this smell, but I checked them anyway, just to make sure my nose wasn't playing tricks on me. No, they smelled fresh and clean. But what was that peculiar odor? And then, I recognized it and noticed one of the socks from the basket had fallen into this bucket that had been sitting on the table for the past 6 hours. Six hours. Apparently, hot ashes do not cool down after six hours, as you might want to believe. And some soccer socks are quite flammable. See?

Needless to say, dear hubby won't be leaving the bucket of ashes on the table anymore. He doesn't want to be held accountable for burning down the house and I really don't care to have the house burn down. That is all.

Simple logic

2010-01-14T16:23:00.005-05:00

Really. Sometimes I question how phrases come about, and sometimes it is the simple question of a 9-year-old that has me wondering about it all, although I have questioned certain things myself.

Today's puzzling phrase has to do with being blind. Sort of. We were driving home from school, when my curious 9-year-old asked, "How can somebody be driving if they're blind? Like, why are they telling you if they can't drive anyway if they're blind?"

Exactly. Whose bright idea was it to call a driveway blind, anyway? How can a driveway be blind? Because to a thinking child, it appears that the owners of the driveway are blind and why is there a sign informing those of us driving by that they are blind? As if we need to know they can't see.

See what I mean? Surely you understand how the term 'blind driveway' sounds very illogical. If you don't, then you must be blind.

Motherhood

2010-01-12T18:37:00.005-05:00

Sometimes I wonder about me and this motherhood job I have. I think that if it was time for my annual review, I'd be given various warnings for insubordination, if not fired completely from the job. "We're sorry, but you just don't have what it takes to do the job," I'd be told. "You have some weaknesses that really impact the success of true motherhood and apparently, it's just not your thing. Maybe you should try something that doesn't involve little people."

Don't get me wrong. I love my little men immensely. I'd die for them, I really would. And I even miss the babyhood years. I miss waking several times in the night to have to nurse a fussy baby back to sleep, snuggling cozily next to me. I miss experiencing the joys of their firsts -- first laughter, first time sitting, crawling, walking. Of course, there continue to be firsts and will be more firsts as they grow older, and I do celebrate them, but I think that the firsts that come along later aren't really supposed to be celebrated because real moms don't want to let go of their babies and want to keep their little ones small forever because it's true what they say -- you blink and suddenly, they are grown and talking ~~back~~ and learning and have their individual likes and dislikes and personalities all their own. So when the last one takes that big step onto the school bus for his first day of school, you're supposed to be all teary and sad because you realize you are letting go and he is independent of you, ready to forge ahead into another long phase of his life. See, that's the problem; I don't get teary and all sad. I didn't with the oldest, and didn't with the youngest. No, I am thrilled to see my little guy take that step. I'm practically jumping up and down with joy. And so, isn't that wrong? Isn't that as far from maternal as you can be when you are more than happy to hand off your last baby to others for the day?

I think it's that light at the end of the tunnel and the problem is that the brighter it gets, the more blind it makes me. And if it's wrong to keep staring at that bright light, then so be it. But I can't help it. Life is dark enough; why wouldn't I want to notice the light and keep staring at it?

So if my feelings are all wrong, then I don't want to be right, because in this special circumstance, I think I am the only person qualified for this job. And no matter how big they get, they never outgrow hugs and kisses. And I don't, either.

2009: The year in review

2010-01-02T12:07:00.031-05:00

Here are the monthly highlights of last year, for your enjoyment.

January '09
Tommy cut off his hair.

February '09
This is usually a month I wouldn't mind sleeping through, but apparently we had a nice enough day where we all took a walk on the trail.

March '09
Another ho hum month, but for the fact that spring is a welcome respite. We must have an unusually warm day, because the boys played soccer like it was a day in June.

April '09
We endured a spring nocation, but were rewarded with an unusually warm day on the 28th, so warm, that we went to the beach!

May '09
The boys, in all their sweetness, picked me flowers they found in some woods. I later found out they are endangered Lady's Slippers and aren't supposed to be picked. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, and in this case, theirs got me some endangered flowers in my own yard. I'll let you know if they bloom this spring.

June '09
There were lots of soccer games we attended. A lot. Like every single weekend a lot.

July '09
There were some rainy days, but some sunny days, too. Days filled with snakes and salamanders and lobsters. We only ate the lobsters.

August '09
We made a new fire pit near the garden, whose flowers blossomed with pretty colors, but best of all, school started again!

September '09
After the first day of Labor Day soccer games, Chris broke his arm. We'll let you know if he breaks any bones this year, but we are hoping he won't. If you recall, he broke his leg skiing back in February of 2008.

October '09
Chris got his pink cast off, and we did some horsing around, among other things.

November '09
There were lots of leaves among the usual November events like too many days off from school, Thanksgiving, parent/teacher conferences, etc.

December '09
Shopping, Christmas trees, Christmas cards, holiday concerts, the usual. And retiring old Sienna for new Sienna on the very last day of the year.

And that concludes this year in review. It could be more exciting, but hey, we are your mostly average family with 4 boys. What do you expect?

Christmas is a wrap, like a Snuggie

2009-12-28T09:59:00.004-05:00

So. Christmas is done. And if you know me, you know that every last Christmas and winter-themed decoration has already been packed away until next year. Because that's how I roll. This house is cluttered enough with the six of us, so at the very least, I will de-clutter whatever I can at the very first opportunity and since I can't very well get rid of the shortlings, the decor goes.

Gifts. My kids, they got a bunch of 'em. Of course, they got a few things they put in their letters to Santa, but not all. The puppy will have to wait, as will their requested individual laptops. As if. Good grief, I didn't get my first laptop until -- last year!

But the three younger boys got their DSIs and Tommy got his iPod Nano. And we are very broke to show for it all. But some things are worth it and they are, except on the days when I am forced to go around with earbuds in my ears as I listen to Toby Keith and Martina McBride and the likes of them sing loud enough to drown out their incessant whining.

Remember last year when the Snuggie was a comical joke? But God bless whoever invented that thing because this year, it was a very hot item. Santa even left a couple under our tree. And while Tommy was outside self-filming himself snowboarding with that cool iPod Nano he got, I tried on his Snuggie. And do you know what? I didn't want to take it off. It was that snuggie. Hence the name, I suppose.

Tommy didn't really go for the leopard print, and preferred the pink one, so the next day, I got him a pink one because the leopoard print Snuggie was fine for Yours Truly! And then yesterday, after the last box of ornaments was packed away, I went and lay down on my bed in that Snuggie and it was like I was paralyzed, but in a good way. I closed my eyes and Carrie Underwood and Jason Michael Carroll and Brooks & Dunn sang to me and I didn't move off my bed until a very long time.

So if you didn't get a Snuggie, well, you should. I'm just sayin'.

Don't ask. He likes to wear it backwards.

Well hidden

2009-12-23T10:06:00.004-05:00

I'm good. Really good.

But that's bad.

I have gotten so good at hiding things, that I can't remember where I strategically hid them and now when I need to retrieve them, I am wasting time looking for them. ~~Not to mention the time I'm wasting writing about it because I want to keep you well informed.~~

I know I purchased small gifts for certain individuals, but I can't find them. So I search and search and come across something I had completely forgotten about, that isn't even related to Christmas at all. These certain items are still MIA.

I put some cash aside recently, knowing I would need it to purchase some last-minute gifts and I didn't want to carry it in my purse. I checked all my usual spots, behind picture frames, in the pockets of pants, between shirts in a drawer. Nothing.

Meanwhile, the majority of the kids' gifts are in one secret location, but for the odds and ends that are discovered or purchased too late to stash with the rest of the stuff. So I wrap these gifts and hide them away, making a mental note to remember where they are so I can retrieve them on Christmas Eve. But i am thinking I might have to write it all down, because my memory has been failing me more than I would want to admit.

The fact that there aren't enough hours in the day doesn't help me. I have gifts still to wrap, groceries to buy, hours to put in at work, kids to be home for after school.

Why can't I remember where I hid that money? And will I find it?

This is very bad.

Another reason you rock, L.L. Bean

2009-12-20T10:17:00.002-05:00

Do you have the L.L. Bean credit card? I do. I don't use it often, but when I do, I like accumulating points and then getting the $10 gift certificates in the mail. I put them in my wallet and let them add up and then I go to the L.L. Bean Outlet and buy cool stuff at great discount prices. Sometimes, I buy from them online because shipping is free. Free is good.

Yesterday, I ventured out to finish up the Christmas shopping. I hadn't used my card for past purchases, but we decided we'd use it for the last few purchases. So I got what I needed at Wal-Mart and headed over to Toys R Us because although Wal-Mart didn't offer the DSi bundle packages with preloaded games, maybe Toys R Us still had some.

Surprisingly, they did, even though they weren't the Mario Karte bundles, and I figured free games were still better than none, so I got three, intending to return the three I had just purchased at Wal-Mart. But my card was declined.

"But I just used it at Wal-Mart without any problem at all," I tell the associate.

"Did you make a large purchase?"

"Yes, I bought the DSis but they didn't have the bundle, so I'm going to return them as soon as I leave here."

"The card is flagged because of the purchase," the associate says to me. "That's why it is being declined."

So another associate goes and calls the credit card company while I wait, and then she comes looking for me because I need to talk to the credit card representative and answer questions that will convince her I am really me, that the card is really mine, and I am the one making these sudden large purchases after the card hasn't been used for some time.

I pass the test, the purchase goes through, and I return to Wal-Mart to return the unbundled merchandise.

Later, when I return home, G tells me I need to call the credit card company right away, because they called, apparently right after my first purchase at Wal-Mart. I had already spoken to them, so I don't call them back. Later later, when I am checking emails, there is one from them. The title reads: ALERT: Possible Fraud Activity

This is an email alert from the LL Bean Visa Card Fraud Detection Unit regarding your Visa® Card ending in XXXX.

As a security measure, we routinely monitor account activity to prevent fraudulent use of our customers' accounts.
During a recent review, we identified activity on your account that may be related to fraudulent usage and need to
speak with you as soon as possible to verify if the activity is valid.

Please call us toll free at (800)541-8471 and provide the following case number: 543834. Representatives are
available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

So. That is why I love L.L. Bean. You would so not get the chance to use my card if you ever tried to steal it from me.

S'now school

2009-12-09T08:25:00.005-05:00

Things sure have changed from when I was a kid growing up in New England in the winter. Naturally, when you're a kid, you are very hopeful that the impending snowstorm will be enough to have to cancel school for the day. You don't care that the snow day has just added another day in June because you are living in the here and now moment. It's snowing, after all. Green grass and swimming are the farthest things from your mind.

And do you know the torture we kids endured just waiting to find out? There was no website to be able to check on your school's web page. Nobody had come up with the common sense to run the list of school closings at the bottom of the television screen, either. No, we had to listen to the local radio station. And the longer the list was, the less cheerful were the DJs. They so loathed that part of their job, and I'll bet now they are so happy their self-imposed humor doesn't have to be sacrificed or compromised for the reading of the school closings list not once, but numerous times throughout the morning.

So on those days where closing the schools would be questionable, we listened to the radio. We cursed the commercials and the DJ banter, waiting for them to get onto the list. And God help them if they skipped our town. We were sure they were mistaken, and would wait to listen again, hopeful to hear our town. We lived in a town that started with the letter M, so we had a long wait, too.

But if our town was announced, we'd silently thank God for the day off. Usually, by 10 AM, the sky was blue and the sun was out, as were we, sledding and playing in the snow. Because in those days, nobody had thought of the logical solution to delay the school opening, either. No, a snow day was a an all-day snow day and we got the whole day off.

Today, there are plenty of resources to check for school closings. I also have to wonder that if we had known about the secret steps kids had to take to ensure a full snow day how many more days we might have enjoyed ourselves. Apparently, if enough kids participate, they will succeed!

As I was putting the boys to bed last night, I told them to cross their fingers that there would be school tomorrow.

"Oh!" said Chris. "I need a spoon!"

You see, all they have to do is sleep with their pajamas on inside out with a spoon under their pillows. And before they go to bed, they should flush an ice cube down the toilet. That's it. Presto magic. If the majority of the kids do these things, they'll get their snow day. Just don't confuse the steps. An ice cube under the pillow will melt, of course, and flushing a spoon down a toilet would be, well, disastrous.

If you think about it, it gives a whole new meaning to spooning.

Now I'm the parent and while my boys react exactly as I expect them to when they learn they have no school, I silently curse the spoons. But come June, when they are whining about the extra day added to their year, I give thanks while I sit outside, sipping my iced tea and stirring it with a spoon.

Illogical Randoms

2009-11-23T20:22:00.004-05:00

Here are some things that I wonder about:

The English language. It is really quirky, don't you think? Seriously, we say things that if you think about it, sound absolutely ridiculous if they are supposed to be logical.

Why do we say 'stand up'? Is there any other way, because you never hear anybody say 'stand down'. What's wrong with just 'stand'? Or is 'stand' supposed to go in the same category as phrases like 'catch up' or hurry up' or 'speak up'? Then again, you never hear anybody say "catch down' or 'hurry down' or 'speak down'. My opinion? 'Up' is uselessly used, at least for these phrases.

If some of our words are derived from another language, then why isn't July September and October August? It just seems logical that September and October would be the 7th and 8th months of the year, respectively.

These spin-off phrases created in the present should really be considered before we officially make them a part of the already confusing English language. Phrases and words like "true dat" and "meh" sound like they are spin-offs from some rap song. Really. True dat? As if saying, 'That's true" is now so terribly old school?

Unfriend just became an official word. That's not so unbelievable, but how come many other words that are prefixed with 'de' are not suddenly prefixed with 'un'. Let's think about that for a moment. Deactivate -- unactivate. Dethaw -- unthaw. Decompose -- uncompose. Hmm. They all sound so utterly ridiculous. And yet, for some reason, saying 'unfriend' works. Still, there are those who will insist that it unworks.

Just look at all the various terms we use for writing these days. No, you can't just say you wrote about something without being specific. It may not have as much merit if you blogged or tweeted something versus wrote or even published your writing.

And how come if you theoretically have a big cloud over your head, you are in a fog of unhappiness, but if you have your head in the clouds, you are euphorically happy?

So, what keeps you unsleeping at night?

Open letter to Apple

2009-11-16T18:09:00.003-05:00

Dear Apple People,

I like you. A lot. I like you so much that I even advocate for your really great products and the computers in our house are an iMac desktop and laptop computer. I listen to my favorite tunes on my iPod shuffle. And until today, I used my iPhone as my cell phone.

But my iPhone won't ring anymore. And that's because my patience with the only carrier with which you contract has run out. I took the last phone call where nobody could hear me because I was in one of the 99% dead zones of my town. Sienna sensed my frustration and she drove straight to the nearest Verizon store. I couldn't convince her that I should cancel my plan with AT&T before visiting the store, but she wouldn't listen. Probably because she knew that I had canceled my contract with AT&T once before more than 2 years ago, and AT&T didn't even blink or try to convince me to stay on as their loyal customer because they knew that the nearest tower they had was way too far from where I lived to serve my needs.

So I didn't get the Droid, as you might think. You know about the Droid, right? It does what i doesn't. But you know what? I really, really like my iPhone and I just didn't want to give up all the cool Apps and all the other things that make it as cool as it is, so I just got a very basic phone from Verizon. You know, so I can make and receive phone calls that wouldn't likely get dropped not only from 99% of the town, but from my very own home.

So my iPhone is now more or less my iPod Touch. And maybe, just maybe, all those rumors I'm hearing about Apple giving consumers the option to choose their own carrier will become reality. Remember that rumor? There was one going around that it was going to actually happen next month. I held out hope. I even went and upgraded my original iPhone to the 3G because I was told the coverage would be much better, especially in all those areas where I constantly had trouble.

But as you and I know, if there isn't a tower, the coverage will still be poor, if not extinct. And the rumor, it's still floating around, only now there is talk about Apple giving its consumers their choice next summer. Next summer. As in, over a half-year away.

Surely, you understand my predicament and I waited and waited and waited. But I couldn't wait anymore. So now I have to carry two devices around with me to be able to access emails and enjoy all my Apps on one and make and receive phone calls on the other.

But you know what really makes me mad? I got over the waiting part. It is what it is, and I figured eventually, I'd probably get tired of carrying two devices around and would bite the bullet, upgrade to a better phone, and pass the iPhone onto my kids to enjoy the games. What frustrates me more than all the dropped calls I dealt with over the last two years is the fact that AT&T is fighting me about breaking my contract with them and will likely penalize me with their "you broke your contract with us" fee. Even though, you know, their nearest tower to my house is over 3 miles away, and they waived the fee when I left them the first time. And I have to say that if they do not sympathize with my very clearly logical decision that forced me to leave them, I will quickly adapt to the Droid. And I'll learn to love it as much as I love your iPhone, which I still love, but just not as much anymore. Because, really: having a great device that I can't even enjoy as what it's called - iPHONE - amounts to nothing but failure.

Illuminating the darkness - DerryNews.com, Derry, New Hampshire

2009-11-06T11:45:00.001-05:00

Illuminating the darkness - DerryNews.com, Derry, New Hampshire

Posted using ShareThis

Newsworthy

2009-11-04T18:07:00.006-05:00

Hey, guess what? We're in the news. It's not often that our town makes the news, but lately, we've been mentioned a lot. Unfortunately, not for anything good. We are still feeling the effects from the recent murder-suicide here in town. Only Joey knew the youngest of the four kids, but they weren't really friends per se. They are both second-graders at the same school, but different classes. Unfortunately, he was one of the two siblings who witnessed the brutal beating his father gave his mother -- using dumbbell weights. How does one move on from that? So, so tragic. And certainly not unheard of in places you'd never imagine. We are proof of that.

Now we're in the news about H1N1. Well, who isn't talking about the swine flu, right? But I guess the high rate of student absences has given the local news station something to talk about. They even interviewed staff members from one of the schools. Yes, it happens to be the elementary school my kids attend.

We also made the front page of today's edition of the Union Leader. See? Okay, this is the online edition but in the printed version, it is front page news and there is a picture of the middle school principal.

Yup, I saw it all first hand, right here from my bed where I have been all. day. long. Okay, I did get up to go out and get Jeffrey off the bus, but only because I had to because according to their strict policy, his 12-year-old brother isn't old enough. But that's okay, I'm not complaining. It was probably good to stretch my legs anyway.

So, you know how hand sanitizer has become as popular as bottled water? I would be lying if I said I wasn't doing my part to increase those sales because you can now find hand sanitizer in my home whereas you wouldn't be so lucky just a year ago. And I even carry a portable bottle with me. Because a friend gave it to me because it's a Snoopy bottle and you know how I feel about the Peanuts. Lately, I've been using the hand sanitizer a lot. Like, as much as I wash my hands, and I do that a bazillion times a day.

And yet, I still got the damn flu. Is it the swine? I don't know. Who cares? I still feel blech. There is an unwritten rule that moms aren't supposed to get sick. I just love to breaking rules and being laid up all day in bed while things go undone.

And I am not beneath begging for chicken soup.

Less than ten

2009-11-03T09:37:00.005-05:00

Sienna isn't doing well.

This might very well be the end.

She coughs and wheezes whenever we go out, and that's not good for her at all. So I am purposely only taking her out locally if I have to, but even that can become taxing on the poor girl.

She has an appointment next Wednesday, but the procedure needed to make her better may prove to be very costly. At what point do you stop all treatments and accept that doing nothing more may be the best answer?

I had hoped she would make it through the winter, fully expecting it would be her last, but now I'm not so sure she will even get that far.

Her prognosis is just not good.

But I'm not ready to let her go. Nine years is not long enough. Sure, she has seen many great places in her lifetime and despite her occasional relapses, has always chugged on, no questions asked. Her temperature fluctuates drastically now, and I'm afraid the imminent colder weather will cause her to break down completely, possibly even paralyzing her. Then what do I do?

I've tried to be extra gentle with her, even giving her little pep talks when I thought she needed it. I'm not sure she can even hear me anymore. It is so hard to watch her slowly slip away, but that is what she has been doing, and I feel so helpless. Worse, I feel guilty when I have to force her to go out and go long distances, even though I try to keep those distances to a minimum.

So, please. Pray for my Sienna. She doesn't have much time left.

Deductive reasoning

2009-10-20T09:38:00.002-04:00

I was helping Tommy study for his science test the other night. And boy, I am always so amazed at ~~everything I forgot~~ the interesting things they are learning. This particular test was about genotypes and phenotypes. The study of genetics, basically. So after I grilled him with the questions, I decided to challenge him with a question not in his notes.

And so I asked him: If his dad and I have A+ blood types, and his three younger brothers also have this blood type, then why was his blood type 0+?

His answer: "I don't know. Because I'm the 0ldest?"

Oh. I see how you deducted that conclusion, Tommy. 0=oldest. Haha. That's funny. But, no. Being the oldest has nothing to do with it.

Now, who here can tell me how this can be possible? Do I see any hands?

Strong and Weak Connections

2009-10-16T20:04:00.005-04:00

The phone rang. You know, the land line, which is something some of us still have these days, and we all know why this house has to continue to have one. So I asked Joey to answer it. We were in my bedroom and the phone was closer to him on the nearby nightstand.

He got up, picked up the receiver, and said, "I don't know which button to press."

"Just say 'hello'", I said. And he put the receiver to his ear and said, "Hello?"

I expected him to hand the phone to me, but he didn't. A quick exchange with the caller, and then I heard, "No, I can't. There's something connected to this phone."

Back when I had to go and purchase and repurchase new phones, I purchased a cheap corded phone for the bedroom because it's always helpful to have a corded phone for those occasions when we lose electricity since cordless phones won't work. God knows my cell phone is practically useless, too. Remember, I'm in a dead zone hole over here.

Anyway, I had to laugh because seriously, there are still plenty of corded phones around. Right? It's not like I put a rotary phone out, for goodness sake. Because I could certainly understand and expect him not to recognize one of those.

In other not-so-exciting news, it snowed today. it did. Nothing to write home about, but the white stuff did fly in the middle of October in my neighborhood. If summer seemed short, I think autumn will seem even shorter.

Oh, and here's an interesting fact I that was brought to my attention today: Jeffrey got lost in a store.

Yup. Lost at Wal-Mart apparently. I picked him up at school and as we were leaving, the director told me how he told them the story of how he got lost at the store. They were asking the children what to do if they ever got lost in a store, and Jeffrey raised his hand and told his story.

The thing is , I don't remember him ever getting lost. Not ever. I mean, we've seen and done a lot worthy for recording and remembering, but I couldn't recall anything about any of my boys getting lost in a store.

So once in the van, I interrogated Jeffrey, because I had to determine if my memory was truly failing me or if I was even in this so-called story at all.

"When did you get lost, Jeffrey?"

"A long time ago." Okay, he's five. That could mean anytime last week or last month.

"Where did you get lost?"

"At Wal-Mart"

"Were your brothers with us?"

"No."

"So what did you do when you got lost?"

"Nothing. I stayed where I was. That's what I told them at school. When you get lost, just stay where you are."

"So..., did I find you?"

"Yes."

"Did I know you were lost?"

"No."

"Oh. So then you really weren't lost."

"Yes I was. But I just waited in that aisle and then you found me."

"Were you waiting a long time?"

"No."

"And when was this, again?"

"A long time ago."

I suppose that if I had had him tethered to me with something like, oh, I don't know, a cord of some kind, he would have never gotten lost. It's always so nice when your kindergartner shares what he learned at school, and even nicer when he can teach you something you never even knew.

To Olivia, with love

2009-10-15T20:56:00.005-04:00

One of Jeffrey's classmates had a birthday a couple of weeks ago, and today he decided to make her a card. Because you might not be able to correctly identify some of the not-so-obvious items in his drawing, I have labeled them for you.

Obviously, the way to a girl's heart is through happy scenes of dogs and trees and bouncy balls. And, it's all about the color green, not red.

If Olivia is smart, she will preserve and frame this picture, made especially for her from a fellow classmate.

Soccer, corn mazes and horses

2009-10-12T18:45:00.023-04:00

We wrapped up the boys' soccer tournaments yesterday.

After Chris' 8 AM game, a bunch of us met at Joey's Diner for breakfast.

Joey had a game at 11, but it was obvious that he wasn't going to make it, as he was fading fast from whatever virus he had been fighting since Friday. If he doesn't look green in this picture, it's because photoshop is a wonderful thing.
I wound up taking Jeffrey and him home and missing the rest of their brothers' games.

I took Tommy and Chris to the corn maze in town later that evening. It took us nearly 2 hours, but we did manage to find our way out of the real exit versus any of the 3 emergency ones. Chris lost one of his flashlights early on and wasn't very happy about it, despite my telling him that it wasn't worth worrying, as it was just $5. Still, I told him if he wanted to go looking for it, to retrace his steps and maybe he'd find it.

Today, the three younger boys and I met up with Tommy, his soccer coach, and the coach's family for some farm time. We rode horses.

And go-carts.

They fed the horses.

And even tasted horse food.

They cleaned the horses' hooves.

They climbed an apple tree.

Long holiday weekends rock.

Rainbow Bridge

2009-10-07T18:41:00.003-04:00

Mr. Comcastic came to fix my phone line, only it turns out the problem wasn't with the phone line, but with one of the new phones I had bought last week. So yeah, it cost me $30 for him to tell me the base of the cordless phone was defective and it essentially sent the message back to the cable box that it was off the hook even when it wasn't. I suspected it might have been the reason for the phone not working, but it did work for a few days, so I decided to go with mere coincidence.

Of course, I had thrown out the receipt for it, and of course I have to return it because I know it was defective to begin with and it wasn't in my house long enough for me to be able to place blame on the boys and their negligence. So, on my way back from a quick errand at the mall, I stopped at the store in Manchester to get another one. The same one, yes, so I can put the broken phone back in the box of the new one and return it, with receipt. Of course, I will tell them the phone is defective so they don't go and put it back on the floor for some other poor buyer to purchase.

I headed home as dusk started to fall and suddenly, out of nowhere, Fluffy walked into the road and I had no time to stop and I hit him. I pulled over and stopped and from my rearview mirror, saw a man go into the middle of the road, pick up the dog, and take him to the side of the road. I don't know what kind of dog it was, but one of those cute little ones with the perky ears. I pulled my guilt-ridden self out of the van and walked over to the man and the dog. The man was crying. The dog was still. I didn't know what to do, and knew I really couldn't do anything since the dog was dead. I apologized, knowing full well it probably didn't mean a hill of beans to the guy crying over the dog, repeating over and over, "She's going to kill me. Oh my God she's going to kill me. We just talked about this."

I asked him to please extend my apologies to her, whoever she was, but I don't think he heard me. He never even looked up at me and I guess I can't blame him because why would he want to look at the person responsible for killing his dog?

So, I stood there and I couldn't really do anything for him. I didn't think he'd want to hear how I lost 2 beloved dogs to hit-and-run drivers and that we don't have another dog and won't until we take measures to ensure its safety with an electric fence because we live on a busy road, less busy than the road he lived on. I was about to lose it myself, so eventually, I turned and walked back to my van and coming in the opposite direction was a cruiser. How convenient. He let me cross and I motioned for him to pull over and he did, even flashing his lights.

I went on my way home. I am consumed with guilt. Why did the dog walk into the road in front of me? Why did I have to be the one to hit him? Damn, damn, damn.

Stupid phone.

Lost and Found

2009-10-07T12:11:00.003-04:00

Sometimes, I hide things I don't want the boys to have. Okay, I do that a lot of the time. Because they will either waste it, break it, or lose it and so some things are just better left..., hidden.

Today, Jeffrey was playing and talking to himself and I wanted to get the camcorder to record it, only I couldn't remember where I put it. So, I went to look for it. Usually, I put things under the clothes in my dresser drawers, but I can no longer rely on those as hiding places because the boys have found items previously hidden there.

So I looked in my closet for the camcorder. I was fortunate enough to find a bunch of permanent Sharpie markers that I put in the pocket of some pants, and even some cold, hard cash. Well, it wasn't really cold because it was in a pocket, but it was a nice surprise, considering I didn't think I had hidden and accumulated $24. A further investigation led me to the best find of all: chocolate!

Hello, Kit Kats. I knew I'd find you eventually.

867-5309

2009-10-05T12:16:00.002-04:00

To my BFFs, and you if it applies:

Are you trying to call me? See, the thing is, my land line is out of service. It has been broken since last Thursday. I had a live chat with Kennedy from Comcast on Friday and after she had me do all the common sense tests that I had already done to ensure the issue wasn't due to personal negligence, she ditched me. Maybe it was her break time or something, but she just up and left the chat room without any warning. Well, I had waited in the queue long enough to finally get to her and then I simply had other things to tend to, so it wasn't until Saturday that I had a chance to contact them again. I humored Chloe through all the things we had done the day before and she concluded that the problem required a technician to come out to the house. Umm, yeah. But you know, we still had to reset the box and all that before she could tell me this from her textbook that prompted her to say all the appropriate responses to my comments or questions. Like, how she was sincerely very sorry I was experiencing problems and did I mind waiting just a moment while she ran a "health check" from wherever she was, etc., etc.

So Comcastic isn't doing so comcastic lately because the next available date for somebody to come out isn't until tomorrow and assuming the problem gets fixed, it won't be until tomorrow evening. But in the meantime, you can still call me. I just won't answer because the phone doesn't ring. Luckily, I can access your lovely message from the computer, which I now check more often than usual because my phone has been eerily silent.

Or, you can always try to reach me on my cell. But the chances are, you'll get a voicemail greeting because I live in a hole where the coverage simply doesn't cover me. I have the iPhone and their carrier is AT&T and well, AT&T fails, fails, fails around here. And if Apple doesn't contract with Verizon before the end of the year, then those rumors I'm hearing will only force me to give it up and go get a comparable phone through Verizon because although the hole in which I live works against me, Verizon at least works better not just here, but most everywhere I go. And yes, I will be allowed to break my contract with them without incurring any penalty fees because they know their coverage basically sucks where I am and there's nothing they can do about it unless they put up another tower or allow me to piggyback on one of their competitors but we know neither of these things will ever happen.

So, Comcast now owes me a credit for the 5 days I haven't been able to talk to you, and I do so miss hearing your voice. If you don't leave me any messages before then, let's catch up on Wednesday. I'll buy us coffee with the money Comcast is giving me.

Okay, bye.

The Chore Chart

2009-10-03T21:17:00.006-04:00

I have been trying to come up with a new and creative way to get the kids to want to do chores, and came across MomBabe's creative work here.

So yeah, I stole her idea, modified it just a little to fit and work for us, and came up with this:

You like? So far, I can't believe how well it is working. The basement got cleaned, they are washing their hands, and I am not even fighting with them anymore to go and brush their teeth every morning and night. Bedrooms have been picked up and beds have been made. The thing is, eventually these new ideas wear off and get old and die. But I'm really hoping the incentives will keep them wanting to pick up after themselves, read some books, and turn their socks right side out. That's what the sock graphic is for, in case you were wondering.

Here's how it works: I put a laminated picture of the task in their envelopes. Once they complete the task, they turn the task card around so the back is facing out. When I see the task has been done, although these days I am sure to get their friendly reminders, I take the task card out, put it back in the plastic bin you see at the bottom, and place a star in their individiual envelope. So they can't steal each other's stars, they each have their own color. And the stars are kept out of their reach, obviously.

If they choose not to do the task, or are just being whiny and bratty as they occasionally will do, they can earn themselves a lightning strike, whose color will match their stars. At the end of the week, we will count up stars and strikes. For every strike they might have received, they lose a star, and then whatever stars are left can be redeemed for a prize or allowance. Each star has a monetary value of $.50 so on average, if they were having a really, really good week and earned 20 stars, they'd get $10.

Now, the tasks will evolve and change. I mean, I'm really hoping that in time I don't have to keep paying them to brush their teeth or turn off the lights they left on. And if they keep coming with me to church, maybe some of the God stuff will start to sink in and they will want to have Him in their lives. Baby steps, but I'm sure we'll get there eventually.

I guess MomBabe's chart isn't working and she is going to change it. Too bad. Give me a week, and I'll let you know if mine was a flop, too. In the meantime, I may be sharing my meager paycheck with the boys, but at least I'm not finding inside out socks all over the house.

The Wheels On The Bus

2009-10-01T07:57:00.006-04:00

So you know how we're all in a recession and the economy is suffering and we are all feeling the effects in one way or another, a little, or a lot. That ripple effect is felt by all, even those too young to be currently employed who are experiencing their childhood years and becoming educated on the this great place we call America.

Zoom into Londonderry, NH, home to approximately 25,000 people, 620 +/- of which (including 2 of my shortlings) who attend one of the three elementary schools in town.

I pay my fair share of taxes, and a good percentage of those taxes go to our school district. So yes, I will take full advantage of those resources I support, and I gratefully put my kids on the bus most every day to go to school. Likewise, I rely on this same safe source of transportation to return them home.

Now where was I going with this? Oh yeah, the economy and budget cuts. Well, at least part of the recent turn of events surely have to involve budget cuts, although those higher up will surely disagree. The bus company with whom our town has a contract apparently doesn't employee enough people to drive our buses. So there have been some issues with getting students home from school and some drivers have had to double bus students, meaning that after completing one route, they would have to return to the school and do another route. The kids on the second route would get home much later than they otherwise would.

After a while, this tactic was, in fact, failing. It became obvious that an alternative solution needed to be considered and implemented. So it was decided that as long as there was a shortage of bus drivers, some of the routes needed to be combined permanently. Well, of course that's logical. Who wouldn't agree with that?

Two routes were eliminated and the routes of these two buses were dispersed between four other buses, one being ours. Because, you know, my life would be otherwise really ho hum and boring and I wouldn't have anything to write about.

Okay, some cool bus facts: The maximum capacity of a school bus is 83 students with them sitting 3 to a seat. That's probably OK for kindergartners, but kids, they grow, and by the time they are in 4th and 5th grade, some are nearly adult-sized. Don't forget, we live where there are 4 seasons, and around here, winter can be pretty darn long, so factor in heavy outerwear requirements during the majority of the school year, and sitting three to a seat can get pretty ~~cozy~~ uncomfortable. No doubt, the poor kids will be spilling out into the aisle, which is a huge no-no. They can't wear seat belts, but there had better not be even a foot in the aisle of the bus.

(Raise your hand if, when you grew up and took the bus to school, it exceeded the maximum number of students allowed and you stood in the aisle for the duration of the ride. Both of my hands are up.)

So! Guess how many kids are going to now potentially be riding my kids' bus with this change? Eighty! Doable? Umm, yes. Safe? Well, according to the bus company, it is. But if you ask a bus driver, you will get an emphatic and resounding NO. In fact, our bus driver has said that she will not continue driving if they implement this change. Well, my kids would jump up and down with joy (not on the bus, of course, because they know that is not allowed), as they are not her biggest fans, but one less bus driver only causes more issues on top of those they are trying to fix, so I'm betting they really don't want to lose anymore drivers.

Being a resourceful person and always striving to ~~make anybody's business mine~~ keep my thumb on the pulse of the town, because I like to think I know me some people, I called a friend who drives for this company. You want the straight facts, you have to go to the source, right? This friend used to fill in, meaning her route changed daily because she always filled in for somebody who was sick. But remember, the drivers have been quitting, so this year she has a permanent route and because she has a permanent route, she isn't in the office as much and as she stated, actually prefers it that way. So she didn't know anything and in fact, I knew more than she did.

We the parents are being told that they have had to combine routes because they don't have enough drivers. What they aren't telling us is that the buses will now be filled to their maximum capacity. Our bus driver feels this compromises their safety, and even if she wasn't driving a bus, wouldn't want her child put in that situation.

Now. What does this all mean for me? Well, nothing, really. I mean, does it mean I'll start driving my kids to and from school every day. Hell, no. Will they be uncomfortable? Possibly, but I don't think they will be in danger. Hopefully it will all work itself out to the best resolution.

Do you need a job? Do you love kids? I hear the bus company is hiring.

~ADDENDUM~
Well, enough parents apparently complained, because I received this email this afternoon from the school principal:

Dear Parents/Guardians:

We have removed the Fieldstone Drive addresses from Bus Route 29 and will revert to the schedule that has been in effect since the beginning of the year. Thanks for your flexilibity and understanding as we work to fix the bus situation.

The Meeting Place

2009-09-22T19:43:00.003-04:00

There has been this couple who has been showing up at the picnic tables in the back of church every day, right around lunch time.

See?

We don't know who they are, but we think that they think nobody is watching.

We also think that they are trying to justify this apparent affair that by meeting in the back of a church, they will be forgiven as long as they are closer to Him, so to speak.

Because they are so having an affair.

Conversation with Me and Myself

2009-09-08T19:14:00.004-04:00

Me: The fact that you are picking up Chris early from his friend's house because he hurt himself is not a big deal. He has been playing soccer all day. It's been hot. He barely ate lunch. He's probably tired and ready to go home and relax.

Myself: But he fell off a bike. It seems odd that he is still crying nearly an hour after he fell.

Me: Too much soccer. He's tired.

Later on...

Myself: He can move his arm but he's in obvious pain, despite the Ibuprofen and ice pack he had earlier. Look at those eyes; what do they remind you of? Don't you remember that look?

Me: Oh, I remember it, all right.

Myself: Then I would steer this van in the direction of the closest ER.

Me: Yeah, and I'll be kicking myself if it turns out to be a $50 visit for them to tell me I'm over reacting and that boys will be boys and he just bruised his arm. Not to mention, I am tired and haven't been home all day and it's Saturday night so I'm sure the ER is having a busy night already.

Myself: So what. Have some compassion, for goodness sake. The poor kid is cradling his arm and all you can think about is that you'll be out $50. Suck it up and go make sure it's not broken.

Me: It had better be broken if I'm going to pay a $50 copay for a diagnosis!

Myself: If it isn't, you won't be the first over-protective parent taking her kid into the ER only to leave hours later with nothing more than a pat on the back, but thanks for your business.

Later, later on...

Me: Well. Who knew that very little swelling and mobility can occur even in a broken arm?

Myself: Aren't you glad your maternal instict told you to bring him here for proper treatment and a firm diagnosis?

Me: I'm just glad I had a justified reason to pay $50. Even better, we were in and out of there in less than 2 hours.
At the ER, ready to be discharged with a tempary splint.

It's difficult to see the break, but you can kind of see the bump before his wrist.

Step 2 of getting a cast: the arm sock.

Hot pink is all the rage. Ready for autographs!

Unpleasant surprise

2009-09-01T20:49:00.008-04:00

Last year when I went to check the inventory of soccer balls in the storage container, Joey found some mascots.

This year, I opened the container to this:

What? All you see are soccer balls? Look closely at the picture's foreground. What do you see? Better yet, just go ahead and click on the picture to get a real good look.

Yeah, imagine how nice that was for me. It's a baby, but a snake is a snake is a snake.

I'm just glad I had the boys with me to take care of it.

The first day for the last one

2009-08-27T20:51:00.004-04:00

So Jeffrey started Kindergarten today. Sort of. Since the whole experience of riding a bus to school and the fact that they are going to school at all is such a big deal, the district has set in place a sort of baby-step procedure so, you know, the parents don't completely break down and lose it when they are sending their babies off to school. Me, I'm not one of those parents. Never was, never will be. No, I'm more than happy to send my shortlings off to earn their educations through our wonderful public school system, thankyouverymuch.

So while all the elementary, middle, and high-school students are boarding the buses on the first day of school while parents are snapping those must-have pictures, the kindergartners get to board the bus WITH mom and dad. Yes, all the parents get to hold their babies' hands all the way through the journey, from the moment they step on the bus, then off at school, in and out of the classroom, back on the bus, and off again back home. And for some children, this probably minimizes their trauma of having to leave mom and dad for the first time if they were never pre-exposed to preschool or something else that encourages independence and builds on their social behavior.

Seven years ago, I boarded the bus with Tommy. Two years later, it was me and Christopher. Two years ago, I went for a third time with Joey. Today, I would board the Kindergarten bus for the very last time with my last child, Jeffrey. Was it bittersweet? I suppose, maybe. Honestly, we waited for over an hour to see anything yellow coming over the horizon and down the hill and while it was a beautiful day, waiting for over an hour with a 5-year-old can get pretty old after not too long. Several times I had to assure Jeffrey that we did not, in fact, miss the bus, that it was just late and would be here soon enough. But soon enough kept passing by and well, you can imagine that after a while we got tired of watching the grass grow or even watching for the bright yellow school bus. By the time it did arrive, we weren't even looking for it and only recognized it by the diesel sound it made approaching our house. And approach and stop, it did, and we got on.

And then Jeffrey ditched me. He took the very first seat and there was no room for me because the toddler son of the bus driver was asleep in his car seat next to Jeffrey. "Jeffrey, don't you want to come and sit with me?" I asked him. "No," he said and that was that. I got several sympathetic smiles as I took the next empty seat four rows back on the opposite side. I was tired from having waited for the bus and keeping him entertained and getting nauseous quick as we turned left and right, stopped and went to pick up more kids and parents. To be honest, I didn't really care one way or another that he chose not to sit with me. I sat back and closed my eyes, thankful I didn't have to make small talk with my little partner and eager to hurry up and get there and get off the bus.

Once at the school and in the classroom, he was off doing his own thing, hardly eager to hold my arm and cling to my side like most of his classmates did. So you see, not only was I more than ready for him to start school; apparently he was ready as well.

Tomorrow, he will board the bus by himself and yes, I will be there to see him off and snap a picture. And on his last day of school, I'll snap a picture of him getting off the bus. And on all the days in between, I will see that light that has been dark for so long shining a little bit brighter. Because it will mean a new era for me when a year from now, I will have four children in school for full days. Full days. Five days a week.

And on that first day, it will be the first day of I-don't-know-what, but I know it will be very, very bright.

The meaning of a song

2009-08-12T20:55:00.003-04:00

The other day, I downloaded some Martina McBride songs from iTunes. Because Martina rocks and if you know me, you know I love country music.

When the detailed invoice was emailed, G wanted to know if there was a hidden message I was trying to send him based on the song titles:

1 What Do I Have to Do
2 Where Would You Be
3 Walk Away
4 Lies
5 Sunny Side Up
6 Wild Rebel Rose
7 Through Your Eyes
8 Tryin' to Find a Reason
9 I'll Still Be Me
10 Two More Bottles of Wine
11 Anything and Everything
12 Good Bye
13 From the Ashes
14 House of a Thousand Dreams
15 Anything's Better Than Feelin' the Blues
16 I Don't Want to See You Again

Umm, no. I only put hidden messages between my lines of poetry. DUH. But I had a good laugh.

Stormy Years

2009-06-15T09:16:00.013-04:00

The teams are named after storms, which is really quite fitting when they are likely the stormiest times of their lives, teenagers and their raging hormones. Last week, the 5th graders got their team assignments and met their 6th grade teachers at the middle school they will be attending. Students from eighteen 5th grade classrooms of three different elementary schools in town will merge to four teams, or "pods" as they are commonly called because of the layout of the building.

Back when I attended middle school, I was in the White House. My sister was in the Red House. Guess what the 3rd house was called? *Yawn*. If you were to ask Tommy what team he was assigned to, he would tell you he was on the Monsoons, while some of his friends were with the Tsunamis or the Twisters or the Zephyrs. When he goes to 7th grade, he will be with either the Cyclones, Hurricanes, Thunderstorms, or Typhoons, and in 8th grade, with either the Blizzards, Heatwaves, Nor'Easters, or Tornadoes. All crazy weather patterns I couldn't keep straight, and that also very accurately reflect the experiences they will endure. Not to mention those their parents will also suffer.

The daughter of one of my very good friends attended preschool with Tommy. Jillian's mom and I alternated carpooling.

They both had the same teacher for Kindergarten, although Jillian attended the morning session, while Tommy attended in the afternoon. But we made sure they played on the same soccer team.

Jillian and her family came to meet Tommy's two younger brothers at the hospital after they each were born.

They would attend different elementary schools and there wasn't a chance they would be classmates again until they got to middle school, and even then, they would have to be assigned to the same team.

Jillian has 2 older sisters who doted on and adored Tommy's younger brothers during their babyhood years while we all attended a weekly play group at St. Jude's Church.
This is where Karla and I met, in fact. Many summers found us enjoying hot days at their house where we would swim in their pool.

We also took excursions to the beach.

Tommy and Jill were inseparable and Jill even told her grandmother she was going to marry Tommy someday.

As they got older, they naturally gravitated towards friends of their own genders because boys to girls were not cool and visa versa. By the time they are pre-teens, they have begun to notice classmates of the opposite sex, only not so much as the one who built sand castles in the sand or played hide-n-seek with you.

We saw Jillian yesterday at her sister's high school graduation party and naturally, I asked her what team she would be on next year and she said she was assigned to the Monsoons.

For some reason, I wasn't at all surprised.

Flying on a wing and a prayer. And in a plane, of course.

2009-05-20T21:21:00.004-04:00

I'm going to my niece's high school graduation. That means I'll be missing out on my youngest son's preschool ~~graduation~~ End of the Year Celebration, to be politically correct. I'll also miss Chris and Tommy playing in their soccer tournaments over the weekend.

My niece lives in what is known as The Sunshine State, except this week and all during my short 4 day visit, it has been and is expected to continue to rain sideways. Tomorrow, when I leave, temperatures are expected to hit close to 90 here.

Since I'll be missing Jeffrey's preschool event, I went to the rehearsal today and took pictures. I will be packing the camera to take on my trip, so I'll be relying on the parents of Jeffrey's classmates to take some pictures of him in my absence. Imagine imposing that on them if we didn't have digital cameras?

After the rehearsal, we went to Mack's for ice cream.

So the last time I flew was in July of 2001. I plan to just take a carry-on bag, but now I'm wondering if it will be more of a hassle purposely packing or not packing what will not be allowed on the plane. Thank God I'm not a high maintenance person and that my sister would surely urge me to use whatever toiletry items they have to avoid having to check luggage and visit the baggage claim area upon my arrival. What are the guidelines? No more than 6 oz. in a zip-lock bag? No liquids? Maybe I should just check the carry-on. I mean, will they really think the personalized beach stone I have packed between the graduation throw blanket for Jordan is going to be used as a deadly weapon?

I'm not worried about it. I suppose I can decide when I get to the airport. See what kind of mood the authorities are in and see if I should take my chances or just check the bag. Besides, I have too much other stuff crowding my mind to have to worry about how to pack my bag.

The end of the school year is approaching, and that means teachers' gifts. I am always grateful for the room mothers who offer to take monetary donations to put towards a gift for the teachers because then it's one less thing I have to worry about. I got an e-mail from Mrs. Jones and gave Christopher an envelope to give to her son at school today. To verify that she should expect, I e-mailed her to let her know to look for it in her son's backpack. She e-mailed me back to tell me I must have had the wrong Jones because she didn't have a son named Evan, but a son named Owen who was in Joey's class, but if I wanted to give her the money today at Mack's, she'd be there.

I wondered what Evan's mom would think when he got home and handed her an envelope with $10. Thankfully, Christopher had his phone number, so I called and left her a message. I probably sounded like a complete idiot and she probably had a good laugh. Couldn't I keep my kids' classes straight and who was the room mom for each? And did I even know that Mrs. Jones had one son in Joey's first grade class and another preschooler in Jeffrey's? No, and do you know why? Because I was not one of the moms who had time to chat when I dropped Jeffrey off for school, nor did I join him for field trips to the fire and police stations. Because most of Jeffrey's classmates are the oldest of their siblings while he is the youngest and I've been there and done that three times already, and where I didn't work before, I am working now and was always rushing to clock a couple of hours while I could.

Do I even have time to fly this coop for 4 days? Hell, no. But I wouldn't miss it for the world and G will get through the weekend looking after the boys on a wing and a prayer while I'm flying high, solo. Solo. Just me. So what if it's raining sideways?

Van, go

2009-05-10T19:53:00.009-04:00

Sienna turned over 100,000 miles last month, remember? So Murphy's Law says everything is supposed to start to go.

Remember back in the winter of 2007 when I went to open the hatchback and felt something springy unspring and the door didn't open. But I wasn't concerned because I figured I'd just have to open it using the key and so what? Minor inconvenience, but certainly the better option to going and fixing it. Only it wouldn't open with the key, either. No secret button or latch inside. No, the hatchback would forever stay closed unless I had it repaired.

One day last spring, I did happen to stop by the shop to get an estimate on having it fixed. Because it was kind of getting to be a nuisance putting all the groceries in and around the seats of the van. And what if I ever needed to transport something big? Yes, I could remove the seats from one of the passenger doors, but if the item was longer than the van's interior length, then I'd need to have that hatchback open.

But I couldn't get an accurate estimate because they didn't know how long it would take them to figure out how to open the door. The cost for the part it itself was about $100, but it could take hours and hours to figure out how to get it unlocked. And then of course, they would need to likely remove the inside of the door to be able to replace what needed to be replaced, and then put it all together again. $300? $400? $600? Maybe, maybe not.

I decided I could live with continuing to put the groceries in the passenger seat area.

Amazingly, it passed its 2008 inspection without serious financial intervention other than the standard fees because whoever did the inspection apparently didn't try to open the hatchback.

Then last fall, one of the front tires went flat and I was eventually forced to replace two tires.

But whoever did the inspection last year didn't do it this year because whoever did it this year did try to open that broken hatchback and of course, failed. "The van won't pass inspection unless all doors are functional," I was told. Like it or not, the hatchback had to be fixed.

So, Sienna earned her 2009 sticker after one new battery, 2 new tires, an oil change and a new hatchback lock. Surely I could get another year out of her as long as I was gentle with her. It doesn't have air condition, but so what? It didn't last summer, either, but I survived. And unless I can get the broken seatbelt in one of the passenger seats to give a little, nobody is allowed to sit there.

Our garage is very narrow. Before I pull it in to park, all passengers exit the vehicle in the driveway. Last Monday, Jeffrey was the last to get out, so he proceeded to close the passenger door. Remember, this is a 9-year-old van. Those fancy automatic doors didn't hit the market until the following year or so. Anyway, as is the routine, everybody gets out and heads inside through the garage and when Jeffrey didn't follow his brothers into the house, I turned to see what was holding him up. And there he stood beside the van, two hands holding onto what was the door handle, up in front of his face in proportion to where it came off the door. His face showed a mixture of shock and fear. I know he was thinking it was not right that he was holding the handle in his hands and wondering what my reaction would be to it breaking.

I rolled my window down, put my hand out. "Let me have it. Don't worry about it, it broke before, it was bound to break again eventually." He handed me the handle before running inside.

I've gotten very good at opening the passenger side door by sticking my arm through the front driver's door. Likewise, I've gotten even better at closing it without catching my fingers in the door.

Still, I just know she can go another year.

Treasures in the woods

2009-04-17T18:03:00.007-04:00

My wagon is missing. And naturally, nobody knows where it is, not even those who are probably responsible for losing it. I didn't notice it until now because I didn't have a need for it. It is my main source of transporting stones to fill in holes in my walls and this, my friends, is prime season for collecting rocks. The earth is still soft and the snow of course, is gone.

So, I headed southeast into the woods in search of the wagon. I happened to have my digging tool with me and wouldn't you know it? I just happened to stumble across some really cool slate and granite! Some of them even had some really cool moss on them. Want to see?

Now, to most of you, these are nothing more than rocks. But they are invaluable for me because one of my walls -- the first one I ever made, in fact, is in serious disrepair and these will work quite nicely when I renovate it.

Yesterday, Jeffrey and I took a ride to the beach. While there, my van hit the 100,000 mark. See?

And to prove I was at the beach, this was my view when the odometer turned over to a six-digit number:

But also, I was there to collect beach stones. I have more than enough now and have actually reached the point where I can enjoy a trip to the beach without the guilty pleasure of taking home an exorbitant amount of treasures I probably shouldn't be taking in the first place.

Anyway, if you think my woods discovery was a waste of time and effort, I can tell you that I also found five golf balls, a tennis ball, an empty water bottle (which was thrown into the recycle bin), and a snowboard that were otherwise not immediately visible. So, see? There is no better time than to go exploring in the woods! No bugs, no forest growth on the ground as of yet, and you just never know what you'll find.

And yes, the wagon is still MIA.

The high price of saving a dollar

2009-04-13T15:08:00.006-04:00

Let me just say this: Some people are just mean and hateful. It's sad when "paying it forward" comes down to hatred breeding hatred, but that the only conclusion I can come to after an incident today where I had the unfortunate luck of being the straw that broke the camel's back for the gas station clerk.

I drove out of my way to the nearby Irving gas station to save a little bit of money, $5 and change, to be exact. For some, $5 is not much. But for me, it goes a long way, especially in our failing economic times. So, I shop at the grocery store where .20 is earned for every $100 spent, which can be redeemed at this gas station within a 2-week period. If I can purchase gasoline for $1.69/gal instead of $1.89/gal, then I will frequent the location that gives me more for my dollar.

When the store initially started this program, you were required to take your coupons into the store after pumping gas to be reimbursed for the savings you earned. It was a slight inconvenience, but nonetheless, something anybody did who wanted to save as much as they could on gas. This was started when the gasoline prices met or exceeded the $5 mark, so filling your gas tank to walk away with $10+ softened the blow considerably. Well, the gas prices gradually came down and have now steadied somewhat, and in that time, the process for getting reimbursed was improved. If you were like me and used a debit card to purchase gas, you could simply insert your Rewards Card at the pump and have the savings deducted immediately rather than have to go inside to get your due change.

So, back to today. The gas gauge was hovering near empty, and after I dropped Jeffrey off at preschool, I drove to the gas station. I used my debit card, but was not prompted like I usually was to insert my Rewards card to take advantage of my savings. I noticed a sign there that indicated one needed to go inside AFTER fueling to get reimbursed. I filled the tank and proceeded inside to finish my transaction. Inconvenienced? You bet I was. The wind was blowing so hard that it felt like January, and I know the recent improvement worked much better than this old way, and if it was only a couple of dollars, I might just say to hell with it. But it was over $5 and for me, that would go a long way.

I walked inside the store and up to the counter. It was obvious why I was there, as I was holding my card out for the clerk to take. Now, pardon me for not skipping in gleefully with a huge grin on my face, because that certainly isn't a requirement for me to get refunded my savings, especially when I had to go out of my way to get it. Likewise, I don't expect the clerk to be extra cheerful, but I do expect a certain amount of respect and courtesy. I did not get that from this clerk. He looked at me and maybe because I didn't have that cheerful grin on my face, asked with disgust, "What?" As if it wasn't evident to him why I was there. I was put out a bit, and now this guy's obvious ignorance didn't improve my mood, but perhaps he was already having a bad day, as we all do, so I simply stated that the sign outside said I needed to come in here to get reimbursed.

Well. Apparently that is when the camel's back broke because I unknowingly hit a nerve with him and he proceeded to show me either how much of a bad day he was having or just how hateful he could be. Let's say it was both. "Look, miss," he said to me, "I don't need any attitude from you. I get enough attitude and all you have to do is ask what you need. You're the worst ones, you Reward savings people." He practically spit out the words, categorizing me among the most despicable kind of people he has ever had to deal with. "You need to bring in your receipt and then you can get your change back," he continued. "You're the worst ones," he repeated, shaking his head in disgust.

"Do I need to go back out and get my receipt?" I asked him. I was hoping he said I would because I was thinking at that point that taking his verbal abuse wasn't worth the $5 and I'd just leave without it.

"Which pump were you on? Number 4?" He takes my card and proceeds to print out my receipt. I, of course, am standing there practically reeling from his accusations, but I'm too stunned to speak and figure I'm better off just keeping my mouth shut, getting the business over with, and getting out of there. I already knew I would never be back again. But maybe he wanted to ensure for good measure that I wouldn't patronize that store again because he proceeded to berate me even more, talking 'out loud' to himself. "I swear, you're the worst ones with the attitudes, you people. The worst ones."

Yessir, got that message loud and clear just a moment ago, but hell, the knife you are wielding is sharp and long, so you just keep right on pushing it in further. Because I'm just the worst of the bunch, so I surely deserve your wrath.

I nearly turned on my heel and walked out then, but I held my ground. Besides, he seemed like the type of guy who would pocket my money and I wasn't going to give him the opportunity. No, I waited, biting my tongue so I wouldn't show him the attitude about which he spoke or dare stoop to his pathetic level. Excuse me, but WHO is it that has the attitude here?

Another clerk stepped behind the counter, just as another customer was approaching the counter. "Can I help you?" the clerk asked the man.

"Yeah, I'm just wondering about the Rewards thing because I can't enter my card and you used to be able to do it right at the pump now," he said.

"Right, we just recently upgraded our system and haven't set that part up yet so you have to do it the old way," the clerk replied.

Oh. Well that's a logical explanation. It's a relief to know it's just a temporary problem that will soon be corrected. Although for me at that point, it was a moot point. Still, why couldn't I get this clerk instead of Mr. I-Hate-My-Job-And-All-You-People-Too? And why couldn't I tell this clerk off, knowing he was way out of line? I didn't deserve that kind of service. I didn't approach him with a smile, but I didn't approach him complaining about anything, either. He passes my card and receipt across the counter, gets my change, and hands it over, saying nothing. I summoned up the strength to thank him, turned, and left. And by the time I was back in the van, I had broken and started to cry. And then I cried more because I was furious at myself for letting this guy get to me.

I drove out of the station with a full tank of gas and an empty heart of faith. I drove to church ~~and prayed for his troubled soul~~ and vented to Trish and Sr. J. and told them how mean and hateful people can be and how this jerk ruined my day and stole my gratitude at having saved a little bit of money. I had a cup of tea and we talked about other things because I didn't care to waste my breath on the event any longer and would only be reminded of the horrible incident it turned out to be every single time I got in my van until I had to fill up my gas tank again.

Let me just say this as well: I think I'm going to try a new supermarket this week.

Why I couldn't work yesterday

2009-04-08T20:36:00.003-04:00

Those of us who work in the pastoral offices of the church had to take the day off yesterday. This is why.

Normally, the staff wouldn't blink at this so-called request. After all, who are we to turn our backs on our community? But this week was probably the worst week to be asked to take a day off. Holy Week is a busy, busy week at our church.

But, I only work a mere 10 hours a week, so I really wasn't affected by this event. Besides, I don't usually work on Tuesdays, anyway.

Through the years

2009-03-25T10:31:00.027-04:00

My youngest son turns five today, and that means I could finally take the last picture that chronicles his growth monthly for the first year, followed by annually on his birthday, as I have done for his older brothers. So, drumroll, please....

Ta-da!

I know, I know. It's a little over the top, but I'm over the top like that. Tommy is on the left, followed by Christopher, Joey, then Jeffrey.

And for the record, I did plan for Christopher to wear the same outfit in his 4 month picture that Tommy wore in his 5 month, and for both of them to wear the same outfit in their 9 and 10 month pictures, as I did for Jeffrey to wear the same outfit in his 1 month that Joey wore in his 2 month picture. Jeffrey is wearing the same outfit in his 7 month picture that Christopher wore in his 11 month picture. I did not, however, plan for Jeffrey to be wearing the same shirt on his 4th birthday as he's wearing for his 5th. Apparently sometimes the plans just plan themselves that way.

9:08 AM

2009-03-09T09:21:00.006-04:00

The past weekend was a much appreciated gift. Temperatures hovering near 60 brought many of us outdoors, dodging patches of snow and in search of new life trying hard to emerge from what has been a snow-covered ground and snowbanks five feet high, no exaggeration there.

I'm sure I wasn't the only one who drove around with the window rolled down on either day, because the weather was that generous and we couldn't get enough of the fresh air. With still a ways to go, the snow was far from completely melted, but it was getting pretty close. While outside cooking dinner on the grill Saturday night, I inspected the ~~aftermath from the December ice storm~~ garden for signs of new life and did find some in the Day Lily area. Soon, I knew I would be donning my gardening gloves and bringing life back to the dormant garden. Spring cleaning indoors might have to wait, because if the opportunity presented itself for me to be outdoors, I was certainly going to revise my list of priorities. Some people already have; I heard the neighbors taking advantage of the weather yesterday and the distinct sound of the chain saw while they cleaned up their yard of the debris from the ice storm. Others did not, as their Christmas decorations still adorned their homes. Either way, it was a good sign: spring was definitely going to arrive; we just had to be a little more patient.

Okay, maybe a lot more patient. This morning, I looked out the window to snow. Not just the snow working hard to disappear, but fresh, new and still falling snow. Big, fat snowflakes clung to branches and there were a lot of them. Where on earth did this storm come from? Last Monday, I wasn't surprised. In fact, I knew on Sunday that the kids would be adding yet another day to the end of the school year because there wouldn't be school on Monday due to the intensity of that storm. But today. What happened to a couple of inches? Would this be yet another 4-day school week?

I turned on the TV to the education channel. As I suspected, Londonderry schools were cancelled. Only..., hold on. Back up. Actually, they weren't all cancelled. Just Kindergarten was cancelled. And there were no delays listed for the rest of the district. To verify what I could only assume was some kind of clerical error, I checked the local news, and the district website and they all broadcast the same announcement: Only Londonderry Kindergarten was cancelled. Okay, then. The kids had school!

I broke the news to the boys, and even interjected some sympathy for them because while I understood the superintendent's decision not to cancel had everything to do with the too many days they already missed, this particular storm was alredy wreaking havoc on the roads. I tuned into the scanner and heard nothing but news of accidents here and there and the fire department vehicles being called out to even more. Officers on the road commented on poor road conditions and there was no doubt many were in for a treacherous Monday morning commute, my kids included.

The boys headed out for the bus just after 8 AM, as is their routine. By 8:45 AM, they were still out there waiting, so like any good mother would, I joined them. Poor Joey was shivering, and the bus was no where in site. I brought along my laptop in a plastic bag so I could continue to listen to the scanner. There was a report of a bus stuck on Stonehenge, and since this is the route the boys' bus takes and since it hadn't arrived yet, I could only assume it was theirs. But it must have gotten unstuck because it finally appeared at the top of the hill.

I pushed the button to end my call to the school. I wasn't questioning whether there really was school, but I wanted to know what the protocol was for how long one should wait for the bus before giving up. Was there even a protocol? Isn't it a standing rule to wait for one hour for a professor to show up for class at college before you are allowed to leave?

The bus pulled up to a stop in front of our house at 9:08 AM. School had already started at 8:50, but I'm sure today's tardiness would not be counted against them. With any luck, they would reach the school by 9:45 AM. And once there, they were as good as safe and would stay for the day because hot lunches were already in the making and they were better off there then back on the roads with the rest of the commuters trying to avoid being a reason to dispatch a fire truck or ambulance to yet another accident.

Our driveway that I will need to clear. But I don't have to hurry. Jeffrey's preschool also cancelled school, so the bus can remain parked in the garage for the day.

ADDENDUM:
The principal sent this e-mail at 9:36 AM:
Good morning,

Thanks so much for your flexibility this morning. We do the best we can in predicting the weather. We consult a weather service and work with the bus company to make sure all students will be safe. The storm this morning was much more intense than had been previously predicted. However, it is now 9:30 and all the buses have arrived safely. We will do our best to make sure we have a safe return trip as well. We are hoping to have all the buses here right at 3:00 so that we can get the students home safely.

~~~~~~~~~
And just after noon, we received this letter from the Superintendent:
Dear Parents,

Today, to say the least was not the best of days for all concerned. We greatly appreciate your understanding this morning. At approximately 4:30am we spoke to our private weather service and were told that we would have rain till approximately 11:00am with a switch over to snow at approximately that time of day, with a total accumulation of no more than 2 to 4 inches.

Thus we made the decision to hold school predicated on that information also figuring that the roads would be plowed by dismissal time.

As we all know the weather took a turn for the worse and we received all snow this morning. A number of buses were delayed, a few were stuck for a short period of time, and one Middle School bus was clipped by a snowplow, no injuries have been reported.

Our first concern is always the safety of the children. If the weather report we received had been different, I would have made a different decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~

So, there you have it. No matter what, he has still earned the title of NH Superintendent of the Year and I'll bet every single parent who put in their complaint to him today will the ones who are most thankful come June when that extra day didn't have to be added to make up for today. And for the record, I wasn't one of those parents but I can imagine he got quite an earful judging from the tone of the letter. But! That's why he gets paid what he does, right!?

Working out the work out

2009-03-02T17:26:00.002-05:00

If there's one thing all this snow is good for, it's to remind me how much I miss going to the gym because let me tell you, my body protests louder and louder every time I am out there pushing that snow thrower around and shoveling another foot of snow.

Yeah, I used to go to the gym. A long time ago, I was so there three, sometimes four times a week. Tommy and Christopher participated in the Powerkidz program and I did my cardio and weight lifting work out. One time, I even tried an aerobics class, but it was a total bust because who knew all the aerobics lingo that prompted the moves you were supposed to follow? Not me! Wait! I do remember something about a grapevine...

Anyway, aerobics wasn't my thing. I preferred to follow my own agenda and if I wanted to skip cardio one day to go for a swim instead, nobody was there to stop me. Plus, when I was pregnant with Joey, the swimming was a welcome respite from the otherwise more aggressive work out I had to cut back on the closer I got to my due date. And after Joey was born, I even paid somebody to watch him three mornings a week until he was three months old, when he could be left in the Kidz Korner room.

Then, I don't know what happened. I got busy. Too busy to get three kids out the door and I tried to do my work outs at home, but we all know how well that works if you have kids underfoot and are lacking the equipment you got used to enjoyed at a gym. I don't think I was even a member there long enough to earn the title of Gym Rat and really, I didn't care.

Until now. Just dragging trash barrels 100 feet uphill to the edge of the road is a work out. Never mind shoveling or pushing that blasted snow thrower that has been getting a better work out than the person pushing it.

Today's snowfall was a challenge. Although it was light, it was deep, and it took quite a long time to clear the driveway. The snowbanks are so high that the snow has nowhere to go and then passing by the edge would cause mini avalanches and I couldn't just leave them there, so I'd have to go back and clear the path again and again. And then there was the issue of dealing with the sheet of ice under the snow that caused me to continuously slip and slide. My neighbor apparently saw me at one of my weaker moments because when I was almost done clearing it and getting ready to deal with the top, he came and offered to take over. I don't think of myself as the Damsel in Distress type, but we all know the snow mixed with salt and sand thrown into the driveway by the passing plows is the worst to have to clear and did you really think I was going to decline him the opportunity to ~~boost his ego~~ help out an aging woman who is clearly out of shape? I'm not too proud to show off my independence and besides, I was practically getting my *ss kicked and I needed to be able to function for the remainder of the day. Disciplining boys with cabin fever is a lot more effective when I'm in the vertical versus horizontal position.

So I was thinking of giving myself a self-rewarding birthday gift by joining a gym again. But I know that now isn't the time because I know I wouldn't get there enough to justify the expense. Besides, I have to upgrade my iPhone because I'm otherwise in a dead zone and I should be able to use the damn thing to make and receive telephone calls in my own house! So, the expense of that requirement was the perfect answer when G asked what I wanted for my birthday. In the meantime, I have to mentally prepare to get physical again. Chasing boys around and hauling stones to build my walls doesn't count.

I think I'll join the gym next year and just try to be more discreet about appearing out of weight when I'm hauling the trash to the top of the driveway. And if spring is really 18 days away, then hopefully I won't have to think about how many more times this winter I will have to clear snow from yet another snowstorm.

A vacation going nowhere

2009-02-26T20:23:00.007-05:00

The boys were on vacation this week. That means that if you didn't board a plane to head some place tropical and warm, or if you didn't take a road trip some place north to put your boot prints on some mountain ~~because one of you was afraid he'd surely break a leg again~~, you prayed you'd survive the week with the kids home from school and that you wouldn't be bargaining with God to let you stick needles in your eyes if he could make the week fly by because you know it would be far less painful.

Winter break, as in, "let's see if my tolerance will break". You have to realize that having four very active boys between the ages of 4 and 11 will inevitably cause you to toughen up. Like it or not, your tolerance level becomes stronger for boys who feel the need to wrestle with each other until one eventually winds up hurt and subsequently whining, or who simply must embark on an adventure over the river and through the woods and test the strength of the layer of ice covering the swamps, bringing home muddy and soaking proof that although it may seem like winter couldn't get any colder and will never allow spring to arrive, it must be getting warmer. At least a little.

So the extra doses of whining and sibling rivalry eventually wear you down because there is no light at the end of the tunnel. You can't silently, or even loudly, announce your heartfelt gratitude to God and teachers and other parents who missed their flight or had to cancel the road trip that tomorrow they'd be back in school because tomorrow is another vacation day. Like yesterday was, and the day after tomorrow will be. Who, in their right mind, would ever dare to call it a "vacation"? It's a vacation from routines, and even if within that routine you are doing the chore you have always loathed, you welcome it nonetheless.

I detest "February vacation". Probably because not once has the month of February in my 40 calendars ever seen a notation of me going anywhere south. The summer clothes are packed away in October and don't see the light of day again until at least April. I just think March might be a better time for teachers to take this week off. After all, in two months the boys will be enjoying their April vacation, but by then, so will I because we can enjoy more outdoor activities. Just think of the soggy muddy mess they can track in from their adventures over the river and through the woods then!

The boys did enjoy some extra-curricular activities this week. Tommy went snowboarding. They have had friends sleep over. We've been to the movies. They even took a ride to the beach today and came home with treasured stones and weathered beach wood. We have done our part to boost the economy some by getting take-out and renting movies. When they return to school and are asked what the best part of their vacation was, they certainly won't have nothing to say.

And then they can start counting down the days to April vacation, which for us, will be another week where no hotels or airlines will have reservations with our names because we'll be out in the yard, in the woods, on the trail, celebrating not a week off from school, but the wonderful season of spring. We won't even mind if it comes early.

And you know what? I don't care that we aren't taking a trip somewhere. We will probably do a whole lot of not much, just like this week. And the boys will probably whine and fight and test my patience and at the end of the week, I'll be glad that they will be heading back to school, but I will love them more than I did the day before because I will have had another second, another minute, another day with them. No matter how many times I tell myself I can't take another minute, I will remember how fortunate I am to have them in my life, to fill my days with love, joy, laughter, even pain. Because some children won't have their mom to drive crazy and some moms won't be there to thank God and teachers that the kids are going back to school.

I may detest this week, but I never lose sight of where I might otherwise be if they weren't in my life and I'll take a week of sibling rivalry between four precocious boys over a week alone in some tropical paradise. Okay, I would so take that week, but I know I'd miss them and would be eager to return home to them and would count my blessings, all four of them plus my husband, my home, and our health. Because some children won't have a mom or a dad or a home or good health. I get that, I do. And every once in a while, the story of some stranger
will resonate in my heart and mind, a vivid reminder that even if we aren't fortunate enough to go on vacation, we have each other and that's more important than getting to pack a bathing suit in February.

Wish List item

2009-02-11T08:00:00.003-05:00

If only I had some extra cash lying around...

Buy It Now >price: US $100,000.00

Make Offer >
End time: Feb-27-09 19:01:48 PST (16 days 14 hours)
Shipping:
Pickup only - see item description for details
Ships to: Will arrange for local pickup only (no shipping).
Item location: Santa Rosa, California, United States
Buyer: User ID kept private

INTRODUCTION:
This auction is for 3 original Peanuts statues. Each statue is 1 of a kind and cannot be found anywhere else! Only serious buyers please. They are only available for local pick-up and buyers are asked to contact Kent Stevenson about payment arrangements prior to buying. For more information please read through auction, thank you.

DESCRIPTION:
You are looking at three original Peanuts statues created in tribute to Charles M. Schulz. These statues were displayed throughout the city of Santa Rosa (the home of Charles M. Schulz and Snoopy) in the summers of 2005-2007. These statues were made in very limited numbers and each statue is an original concept designed by the artists and the business owners who commissioned their creation to bring them to life! Theses statues are one of a kind and cannot be found anywhere else! These particular statues are construction themed and make a great addition to any collection or business! The statues stand 4 feet high and stand on a base. Thank you for looking!

CHARLIE BROWN:
The Charlie Brown, statue known as "Charlie the Surveyor", was created for the summer 2005 event "It's your town, Charlie Brown!". Only 50 Charlie Brown Statues were created and each one is unique and 1 of a kind!

SNOOPY "JOE COOL":
The Snoopy statue, known as "Snoopy the Laborer", was created for "Snoopy's Joe Cool Summer" for 2007. Only 100 Snoopy "Joe Cool" Statues were created and each one is unique and 1 of a kind!

WOODSTOCK:
The Woodstock statue, known as "Woodstock the Engineer", was created for the "Summer of Woodstock" for 2006. Only 76 Woodstock statues were created and each one is unique and 1 of a kind!

Ready for Orbit Audition

2009-02-05T19:50:00.002-05:00

So today I went to the dentist. While I'll admit it's not my favorite place to go, I always like that clean feeling after having my teeth cleaned and I always leave there promising myself to floss each and every day and not only once in a while and to occasionally scale my teeth with the pathetic dental instrument they sell at Walmart that is nothing like the instruments they use in the office that if I had the nerve, I might swipe just one so that when they do that prodding exam at the beginning of the visit, I'd pass with flying colors.

Plus, I get to meet new staff because every time I go, there is somebody new there and the dentist is great, but he does maintain a well-lubed revolving door when it comes to his staff.

So today, I met the new hygienist because my most favorite hygienist, Darlene, left to be home with her little boy. She actually would still be there, except her husband was deployed to Iraq and it made more sense for her to leave, although I'm certain there would always be a job for her there if the opportunity ever represented itself (as it had once before), and I'm hoping it will soon. In the meantime, Jenn is getting her feet wet and if she has thick enough skin, she'll be there when I return in six months.

Anyway, before she got started, she offered me a pair of glasses. Eye protection. I had never been offered eye protection before, so right away, I saw a red flag. It was going to be a simple cleaning and why did I need glasses to protect me from flying debris -- debris that came from my own mouth?

Okay, so they were optional but just to be safe, I put them on. Then she began the prodding part of the exam. Only in this case, it was more like jabbing and poking. In the past, an assistant would record the numbers for the hygienist, but she did it alone, and silently. I usually get 1s, 2s and 3s but I couldn't help but think she was coming up with 4s and 5s because she surely had to be drawing blood with every poke to my gums.

The second red flag went up when she kept alternating poking and jabbing with recording the numbers and leaving me there in limbo. No suction, no rinse. I know she drew blood because three times, I was forced to swallow and I certainly know the taste of blood.

Onward to the cleaning, and apparently she was impressed and commented more than once about it, thankful that she wasn't challenged with me. She was happy she could even take an early lunch.

She finished up and proceeded to polish and asked me what flavor I wanted. When I couldn't answer, she realized why and I finally met Mr. Slurpee! Don't think I didn't kiss him more than it was necessary.

I don't have to return until August, a time that is so difficult to even imagine on a day when it felt like I was living at the South Pole. Yes, South. Read up on your geography and you'll see that it's colder than where Santa and his elves live. But by then, maybe I'll muster up the courage to swipe a dental tool to scale my teeth. Because they sell plastic pathetic instruments at Walmart.

Nothing at all

2009-02-03T11:59:00.008-05:00

I know, I know. If I could hybernate like the bears, you know I would, and I'd rather you find me not home than to make you come in and listen to mumbo jumbo ho-hum stuff, which is what you'd get this time of year. Not that this isn't a good thing, because even a boring day is better than a bad day, but I guess I'm just going through the days, happy to be one day closer to spring than the day before.

I mean, do you really want me to rant about my driveway and what a hazard it can be this time of year? Or that I have to practically stand up in the van to see over the way-too-high snowbank to make sure the coast is clear before I can pull out of said horrendous driveway? Or how I'm tired of winter and snow and school cancelations and dry skin and always being cold?
That's what I thought.

So instead, I got nothing. Maybe my friends have more exciting things going on. I'm sure they won't mind if you visit them. Debbie will definitely make you laugh. And Mike just writes the most incredible stories. Not to mention that his daughter, Emmeline, wears better clothes than the models in fashion magazines, mostly thanks to her creative dad. Brian's stories will have you rolling on the floor, although he's apparently taking the month of February off and is abandoning his faithful fans until March rolls around. He got away with it last year, and so he thinks he can get away with it again. Sadly, he can, because we suckers will be banging on his door to let us in on the first day of March. But read some of his older posts if you aren't familiar with him. Then get in line on March 1.

Are you a cat-lover? Even if you're not, Rockygrace will welcome you. Hey, she's even using sophisticated words now on her blog.

I recently came upon MomBabe and feel like I nearly struck gold. She cracks me up as much as Dawn does and I only wish I found her sooner.

They should keep you busy for a while and in the meantime, maybe something really exciting will happen in good old Londonderry, or whatever knack for humorous writing they all have will rub off on me and I'll have something to make you laugh, too. Or I'll just call it a day and stick with the poems.

Stuck

2009-01-30T16:19:00.004-05:00

Today's classroom theme at Tommy's school was Career Day, so students could dress up in outfits or uniforms that would depict what they want to be when they grow up. Since Tommy plans on being a ~~professional snowboarder~~ snowboard instructor, he wore his snowboard boots to school. I didn't question whether he packed his sneakers in his backpack because I didn't think I had to, but I learned quickly that he hadn't when he called me just before 9 AM to ask if I'd bring his sneakers to school. Because, you know, I just sit around all day looking for things to do and places to go.

Unknown to me yesterday and finding out only this morning, G had the day off. He thought he was going to have to go shopping for a small Toro snow thrower because the one we had had apparently expired. He was able to revive it, so the day's agenda changed to his starting on taxes and stacking more wood. Under normal circumstances, his being home only messes up my plans, but today, I didn't have to get Jeffrey bundled up to make the run over to the school. So I made my coffee and off I went, but without getting very far. I had lightly sanded and salted the driveway yesterday afternoon, but apparently not enough because although I made it to the top, I had to stop for the one little white car to go by and then I couldn't see past the 12 foot-high snowbank and thanks to the plow's messy aftermath that froze at the edge of the driveway, I had to back up, which my non-AWD vehicle didn't like, and so I slid back into the snowbank, sort of. After spinning my tires, I decided to do the practical thing, turned off the van, trekked back down the driveway, and grabbed the nearly empty barrel of sand. I figured I would fill it up from one of the blue barrel supplies in town after I dropped off Tommy's sneakers. I scattered the last of the sand and salt under the tires and made another attempt to get free, to no avail. Back down the driveway, this time to retrieve the bucket of ashes from yesterday's fire because the sand/salt barrel was empty and this would work just as well. But I over-corrected and only wound up more in the ditch than I was originally.

I silently thanked God that I had AAA and went back inside to make the call, only to find that my yearly membership renewal wasn't until mid-March and apparently, I had used up all my get-out-of-jail-free passes, but they would certainly still come out for a $50 fee. I canceled the request because I could certainly use a shovel to dig myself out, and not for $50. By now, it is after 10 AM, and since he hadn't received them yet, Tommy called again to make sure I was bringing his sneakers and to emphasize that he would need them before lunch at 11 AM. I could certainly dig the van out in under an hour!

I am not the damsel-in-distress type. By now, G knew about my situation and wished me luck as I headed out the door, and I wasn't insulted because if I could get my van stuck, then I can certainly get it unstuck on my own, without any assistance. I was almost dug out when G came out to ~~lecture me on the do's and don'ts of driving on an icy driveway~~ help me get on my way. Between the two of us (team work!), I did get free, although I didn't ask for his help and told him I had it all under control. (I did. I would have gotten out eventually.) Still, I was thankful that he was home and there to help me and I told him as much as I drove off, nearly clipping the car driving down the road because - hello! Snowbank! Can't stop to see who is coming! You just have to take your chances and play chicken.

Anyway, Tommy had his sneakers by 10:30 and I stopped at one of the blue barrels later to fill up our supply. I dropped it off back at home in between dropping of Jeffrey at school and heading to church to work and give blood at the blood drive taking place, and again, my helpful husband offered his assistance, but not without dropping the barrel on his toe. I told him to wait for my help but he didn't listen. His toe is fine.

I did try to give blood, but was rejected. Again. I tried to give last year and was turned away due to low iron, and did try to make up for that all this week by taking iron supplements, but it wasn't enough, it seems. My number was 11.7 on the second try, and it has to be 12.5 or they won't take it. But! I still got my coupon for a free pound of coffee, so it's all good. You can't say I didn't try!

Tattletales

2009-01-29T19:31:00.002-05:00

"Dad!" Jeffrey called to G, "Joey's going to tell on me!'

I giggle. G chuckles. "Okay," he calls back. "It looks like you beat him to the punch."

Letter from the principal

2009-01-27T07:52:00.002-05:00

Hello,

Your child may have come home telling you about heating problems In Rooms 101 and 103. I want to make sure you know that we are working very hard to correct the problem. I also want to assure you that there is some heat in both rooms and at no time has either one fallen below the mid-sixties.

Not to get too technical but Chuck Z., who is the director of Building and Grounds and an expert on boilers, has been over with his crew on several occasions to work on the system. They have flushed the pipes, ordered a new pump, and made some changes to the building's heating system to help adjust the temperature in the two rooms where the problems exist. In his words they have now, "changed the operating schedule, increased boiler water temperatures, and used portable electric heaters in order to maintain 70 degrees in the classrooms." We are hoping to have further repairs made so that the system will be functioning appropriately as soon as possible.

Thanks for your child's patience with this problem. We'll let you know when it's all corrected.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I received this letter via e-mail yesterday. Of course, despite the fact that there are 32 regular classrooms in the school, one of my three is bound to be in one of the two without heat. Ironically, Chris didn't even mention anything to me until I asked him and when I did, he was very nonchalant about it. I attribute that to the fact that he is just quite used to colder than normal temperatures! Thermostats are kept at 64 at our house, but we utilize the fireplace insert more frequently than we have in past years, so temperatures reach the mid-70s in the living room and upper 60s in the rest of the house.

We got an oil delivery yesterday and according to G's very thorough and detailed analysis report, we used approximately 147 gpd last year – 101 gpd this year) / 147 gpd last year = 0.313 = 31.3% reduction (not too bad with still being warm enough).
Just in case you were wondering.

Message for Kicks and Ronnie

2009-01-23T11:20:00.002-05:00

We ran out of Cookies 'n Cream ice cream yesterday and in my house, that could be a potential crisis, so I made an impromptu trip to the grocery store yesterday afternoon for more. Brooks & Dunn ~~and I~~ were singing their new song, Cowgirls Don't Cry. We got to the last refrain of the song when, from the back seat, Jeffrey stated matter-of-factly, "You can too make a cowgirl cry."

"You can?" I asked. "How can you make a cowgirl cry?"

"You can just pinch her."

Of course. Brooks & Dunn apparently didn't think of that but who really cares? The song is still another hit. So ride, baby ride.

Londonderry Lancers

2009-01-21T18:18:00.005-05:00

The First Lady preceded President Obama's visit at Mack's last November. Of course, I tried to snag a ticket to his event, but was not so lucky. I might have been lucky to just park in the apple orchard and trek through the woods, or to ask the boys' principal if I could hang at her house, a stone's throw away from the event. No doubt, those secret service guys would have blown my cover ~~, especially if I had loud-mouth Jeffrey with me~~.

But I would be remiss if I didn't brag about the fact that our high school's band was chosen to march in the Inaugural parade. I mean, if Dawn Meehan is going to stand in the check-out line at the grocery store and show everyone her article in Hallmark Magazine (page 199, for those of you who want to check it out when you're waiting to check out at the grocery store), of course I'm going to give you the link here to watch the Londonderry Lancers march down Pennsylvania Avenue.

You're welcome.

Translations with a pre-schooler

2009-01-13T08:32:00.002-05:00

"Mom, can I just have a coil?"

"A what?"

"A coil." He puts emphasis on the second syllable, as if this will make me understand better what it is he wants.

"A coil?"

"Coil."

"Coyille? What's a coyille?"

"You know, that brown thing with white stuff inside."

Now, friendly readers, tell me what you think he was requesting. Think like a 4-year-old and it should be easy!

I'm Bored

2009-01-09T09:08:00.002-05:00

I'm thinking that if we can put a good melody to the words to this song Chris wrote, we might just have a hit.

Lost tunes

2009-01-06T07:43:00.003-05:00

Last night, while I was sitting in bed playing on my Macbook, (which I absolutely love, but that's another post) Jeffrey, my ever precocious 4-year-old, when he learned he couldn't play with mommy's Mac, inquired about my iPod that was setting on the nightstand.

"How do you turn this on?" he asked.

"It's locked," I told him, "so you can't."

No matter. Of course he will find an alternative means to use it. If it had 4 wheels, it could almost pass for a matchbox car, right? But who needs wheels, anyway? He proceeds to drive the iPod around on the floor, much to my displeasure.

"Jeffrey, please stop doing that and give it to me. That's not a toy." He places it back on the nightstand and goes off to find some real matchbox cars to drive around on the floor.

After the boys are tucked into their beds, I try to improve my score on Pathwords, to no avail. It's just not a compatible game without a good old fashioned mouse, which I did utilize, but found it still doesn't work well unless it's on a flat surface. No bother. I'm tired anyway and decide to turn ~~out the lights~~ off the computer.

I sometimes listen to my iPod before falling asleep because let's face it: Toby Keith and Keith Urban's crooning voices are much more easier on the ears than G's snoring. But not to my surprise, the iPod is not on the nightstand. I reluctantly climb out of bed to go in search of my tunes. I even get my trusty flashlight and pretend I'm a CSI in search of clues. My search doesn't turn up the sought-after item, but I did find a nickel and my heating pad that I was looking for last weekend to sooth my upset stomach.

The flashlight casts a beam of light that I follow upstairs to Jeffrey's room. He is lying in bed playing a game on his DS. "What? What do you want?" he asks me.

"Jeffrey, where is my iPod? Where did you put it?" He continues to play his game, but I can see the little wheels turning in his head as he tries to continue the game and recall where he left what he knew he shouldn't have taken.

"It's in the living room." He sounds like Elmer Fudd, pronouncing his l's and r's with w's.

"Where in the living room?" I had already looked there.

"It's with my cars on the living room floor." Yes, the very place I already looked, but maybe I missed it. I go downstairs to look again and again, I don't find it. But I do find the remote control for the TV in his backpack which is a search that got squelched today, but if I had a Clicker Caller, it wouldn't even be an issue.

A second visit to Jeffrey's room. "It's not there, Jeffrey. Where exactly is it in the living room? Do you even remember?"

He takes the flashlight and I follow him downstairs to the spot where his cars are o the living room floor. He seems genuinely surprised to find it not among his toys. "I'll look for it tomorrow morning," he tells me. "I don't have school so I'll have all day." Is it going to take all day to find it?

I search a little longer before finally giving up and going to bed. I listen to G's snoring and eventually fall asleep.

This morning, Jeffrey climbs into my bed to snuggle. "Don't you have an iPod you need to be looking for?" I ask him.

2008: The Year in Review

2008-12-28T18:22:00.006-05:00

Well, it arrived fairly uneventfully, at least for us. The last time we rang in the new year was before kids, and the sleep I lack is precious, so today becomes tomorrow when today becomes yesterday and it's just another day. You're going to read that a couple of times to make sure you got it, aren't you?

So, let's start from the beginning. January. January brings cold gray skies, snow, more cold, and nothing much to look forward to. It came and went into February.

February for me is an even colder and grayer month than January. But this year, we were looking forward to a few days on the slopes, something we have never done before with the boys. Tommy could perfect his snowboarding skills and hopefully his brothers would enjoy some skiing, the two younger ones for the first time. But that didn't happen. Well, Tommy did perfect his snowboarding, but Joey and Jeffrey didn't embrace learning how to ski and Christopher wound up breaking a leg on his second run down a mountain.

At least it's a short month, even though we had an extra day this year. So, here comes March and hope that spring really will eventually arrive, but not before we got enough snow to make it a record with over 100 inches and just 2 inches shy of breaking a record. This year, I turned 40. G got me an iPhone I had wanted and my twin sister sent me money to supply myself with en entire year's worth of Friendly's Wattamelon Role. But that odd craving for this seasonal item has disappeared, amazingly enough! I tore up her check and sent her a DVD chronicling our 40 years.

Spring did arrive, and Jeffrey joined the BBC (broken bone club) when Joey closed the van door on Jeffrey's hand.

I got serious about securing a part-time job in April and somehow, things came together not as I expected, but blessedly when I was offered a job at my church, which I started in May. It was a welcome change to be working, even if the hours were less than I would have liked to work because of family obligations and little ones still at home. But the flexibility was and still is, priceless.

June arrived and eventually, the last day of school for the boys, but no vacation to look forward to since we took one in February and my 8-year-old van probably couldn't make the trip down south to visit family anyway. But we had the pool and it's only an hour's drive to the beach.

July brought a little bit cooler weather than we usually get and nobody had to camp out on the porch because it was too hot in his bedroom to sleep. The three older boys and I participated in Religious Education the last two weeks, me as teacher and them learning, but not before Tommy joined the BCC by breaking his collar bone while skateboarding.

G took the first week of August off, and we took some day trips. We also prepared for winter and added extra cords of wood to our supply because we refused to pay the high oil prices. I took to walking to work some days, or not going anywhere at all to avoid the pain of paying at the pump whenever the gas tank went below empty.

September! One of my favorite months of the year because the kids get to return to school! And this year, Jeffrey would be heading off to preschool three afternoons a week, which would give me about 7 hours of freedom. Of course, those hours are usually spent at work, but it is a great place to work and there aren't kids fighting and whining so it's all good.

October is always a very busy month with school and soccer and everything else, but I always enjoy it for the change in colors the season brings. This year, however, brought more sadness with the passing of the boys' pediatrician. It is still hard to believe he's gone.

November brought with it the excitement of the political scene that will be in future history books. Thanksgiving turned out to be more pleasant than it usually is and we prepared for Christmas.

December brought a little bit of snow, but a whole lot more of ice and another claim to natural history. We survived seven days without electricity, while others endured even more than that. It made for a beautiful Christmas in Londonderry with all the lights. Or lack thereof.

What can we expect in 2009? We will welcome a new United States President. We will see more snow, no doubt, at least here in New Hampshire. And I hope to keep reconnecting with friends from the past, thanks to Facebook. I have 149 friends. Are you one of them? If not, jump on board!