Thing 1 and Thing 2

A Ministry? You've Got To Be Kidding Me!

2010-10-09T04:50:00.001-07:00

Two years ago, I was on the prowl for a part time holiday retail job. The reasons were simple. Extra money. Seasonal. Temporary. Work through the holidays and be done with it. I'd already done holiday retail prior to this and HATED it. Serious loathing going on here, folks. It was pretty horrible.

I'm happy to say that I survived Christmas retail again, as I embarked on this new job. Because it was my second job, I was pretty much there on weekends only. (Read: 5 days to recover in between scheduled shifts!) As December drew to a close and gift returns were dwindling as well, I waited for those magical words from my boss . . . "we're done with you."

Actually, those words never came. In fact, as the new year began and I was still finding myself on the schedule each week, no one was more surprised than me when she asked, "would you like to stay on?"

Every part of me wanted to reply "NO!" Not that I'd had a bad experience-it turned out to be not so bad really, and even fun at times. But, I had no desire to be in the retail world again-at least not on a regular basis. My voice was working a lot faster than my brain however, and I found myself saying, "sure."

Two years later, I am looking at Christmas in the face again. "What? It's only early October!" you say. Ah yes, but this is retail. Remember? (giggle)

When I started the job two years ago, I clearly remember expressing my frustration with some dear friends in our small Bible study group. I was frustrated with how customers acted, frustrated with the materialism factor, and just frustrated in general. I will never forget how one of those girls looked me in the face and suggested that I look at it as a ministry.

It took everything in my being to not laugh at the suggestion. Hmmm. A ministry. Sell candles and shower gel for Jesus? There was no wrapping my brain around that one. But, on the other hand, perhaps He did provide the opportunity to stay there for a reason-other than extra money (of which is minimal at best during the rest of the year).

I'll be honest and say that I didn't initially give her suggestion too much of a second thought- that is, until the day that the mother-in-law walked in the front door. As we were "trained" to do, I welcomed her to the store and offered to help her find what she was looking for. To be honest, she seemed a little lost-uncertain of knowing exactly what she needed. I made a few recommendations, which prompted her to blurt out "my daughter-in-law is dying," as she looked at me with tears in her eyes.

What do you say to that? She looked to be about the same age as my own mother, so her daughter-in-law could very well have been around my age. I gulped. And waited. And wondered what to say next.

She finally composed herself and explained that she wanted to buy some lotion for this special woman in her life-telling me that her son wanted to massage his wife's arms and hands. Just about then, my manager gave me "the look" from a distance-indicating that she wanted me to move on to another customer. Clearly my manager also had no idea the kind of customer I was dealing with, either. I'll be honest here and say that I disobeyed my manager, vowing to explain later.

I turned my attention back to this woman, who asked about a particular item. Unfortunately, it was something that we didn't have at that moment, but would probably be getting in within the week. I shared that information with her and suggested that someone call her when it arrived in the store again, to which she replied "we don't have a week."

Thankfully, we found something else that she felt would be a good substitute and she was soon on her way out the door, but not before she thanked me. "I appreciate you being patient with me," she said. And she was gone. I knew then and there that perhaps my friend was right. Maybe I could look at this as a ministry.

Several months after that, an older woman came into the door with another woman whom I assumed to be her mother. The younger of the two women came to the registers, asking if we had a public restroom for her mother to use. Normally the answer would be "no" due to company policy. However, it was obvious that this was an emergency situation. The women were escorted to our back room and one of the associates waited outside the restroom door as the women were inside. Later, we learned that the older of the two women was quite ill and that it had been an emergency situation indeed.

Happily, that same woman's daughter appeared in our store just last week and was beaming as I rang up her purchases. "You probably don't remember me," she said, "but you girls here were so kind to let me take my mother into that restroom in your back room. You will never know how much I appreciated your kindness and I'm happy to tell you that my mother is doing so well right now," and she went on to fill me in on all that had happened to her mother over the past year. Honestly, I had only a vague recollection of this woman, but it was obvious that she remembered us and one of the girls' act of kindness in saying "yes . . . you can use the restroom."

In that same week, I also helped a woman find travel sizes of his favorite shower gel. "He's being deployed tomorrow to Afghanistan," she explained. "He leaves tomorrow, and I want to sneak this into his bag while he's sleeping tonight." On her way out, I wished her luck and encouraged her to come back in the store soon." She looked at her 8 year-old daughter and smiled at her brightly, then looked at me with tears in her eyes. "Oh, we will! We're going to be filling up our days and doing lots of things together, right?" she asked her daughter. The little girl nodded and then they were gone. I hope that they do come back soon-even if they don't make any kind of a purchase next time.

As I finished out my shift at the store last night, a different woman walked in-carrying a large sized box. I was helping another customer at the time, but my manager assisted this woman who was bringing back a large quantity of returns. As I was finishing up the transaction with my own customer, I was hearing bits and pieces of the conversation between the woman and my manager. Upon being asked the reason for making the return, I heard the woman hesitate then say, "I lost my job. I can't afford all of this."

I gulped. It was all I could do to hold back the tears. You see, we're going through a similar situation in our own home right now. As my own customer left the store, I moved down the counter next to my manager and expressed my sympathy. It was obvious that the woman was struggling. I asked her when it happened, which she answered "Wednesday." I felt so bad for her. I knew how much she was hurting. And I had a feeling that I also knew how fearful she was. I tried to encourage her. "At least, " I said, "it happened at this time of the year. Places are hiring for seasonal help right now . . . maybe you could get a temporary job while you look for something more permanent?"

As my manager finished up the return, I made my way to the front of the store again and saw the woman approach the doors to leave. On her way out, she waved an application in my direction. "I talked to your manager!" she smiled. "Maybe I'll be seeing you again soon."

I sure hope so.

Even if it's just for a "season."

"Dance As Though No One Is Watching You" . . . or something like that!

2010-08-31T13:56:00.000-07:00

I love that quote, but never really thought about it in the way I experienced earlier this afternoon.

Mackenzie was looking to redeem a birthday gift card this afternoon and after much deliberation and weighing of the choices, used it to purchase a kids CD with "YMCA" on it. (Actually, that song is what sold her on this particular CD-to say that she LOVES that song would be a gross understatement.)

Anyhoo, I made a detour to McDonald's on our way home. Because I have discovered the joys of the mocha frappe this summer, I decided that the day and the temperature were "frappe-worthy" so we swung into the drive-thru before heading home after our shopping trip. But, I digress . . .

After paying at the first window, I followed the instructions and drove to the second window and waited for the window to slide open. I waited. And I waited. And I waited some more. I didn't mind though-Mackenzie had requested that I put her new CD in the player and go to track 14 . . . "YMCA." So I did . . . and I blasted it. LOUDLY! And I did ALL the arm motions-spelled it out and jammed in between the choruses. It was one of my finer dance moments really, if I do say so myself. And suddenly I happened to glance to my left. There, smiling broadly, was the friendly McDonald's employee waiting with my frappe.

I quickly turned the volume down as I rolled down the window, gave the woman a sheepish smile and apologized for not noticing her sooner. Thankfully, she grinned and said "that's ok. I was actually enjoying the show."

And to think . . . I really thought no one was watching.

"B" is For . . .

2010-08-30T19:15:00.000-07:00

"Bo" and for "buddies" because it looks like these two puppies are getting along quite nicely during playdate #2.

. . . and for "bubbles."

"B" is also for "back-to-school." A successful first day was had by all-even me in spite of the other "B" word . . . "boohoo." My "babies" are growing up.

And we can't forget about "birthdays" 'cause we had one of those to celebrate last week as Mackenzie turned six years old. She, two of her cousins and a good pal celebrated by "building bears" and having a small "bash" at our house. In the photo below, you'll see their "best" poses!

"Breakfast" is the next "B" word. Yep. I let her have WHATEVER she wanted for her first meal of the day. She voted for chocolate pudding. I went a little crazy and added the whipped cream, sprinkles and cherry. (Would it surprise you to know that she has attempted this request for breakfast every day since her special day last week? Yeah, I didn't think so.)

"Big Girl" is what she's getting to be every day that goes by . . .

"B" is also for "blink" because that's how fast time seems to be flying these days. I'm trying to keep my eyes wide open. I don't want to miss a moment!

A Letter To My Girls . . .

2010-08-24T20:53:00.000-07:00

Dear Cassidy and Mackenzie,

Tomorrow is a huge day for both of you. For me too, actually.

Six years ago, I rocked a newborn Mackenzie in my hospital bed as her older sister went off to her first day of kindergarten. I made your daddy promise to take lots of pictures. And shoot video. And make sure that she wore the correct shoes with the brand new "first day outfit." And then I cried. A lot.

I also did the math . . . figuring that with the age difference between the two of you, Cassidy would be heading to middle school on the same day that Mackenzie would be greeting her kindergarten teacher. I quickly pushed the thought aside. THAT day was years away.

And yet, here we are. Tomorrow I will watch Cassidy ride away from my sight on the bus and then I will walk Mackenzie to her new school and into her new classroom. How this day arrived in what seems like the blink of an eye is beyond me. Impossible, actually.

Cassidy, I am so proud of you! I've watched you grow and mature through your elementary school years and admire you so much! I've cheered your victories and hurt for you during your struggles. I've watched you develop new talents, make new friends and experience new kinds of hurts. I've watched you come alongside your sister and encourage her in these past several years as she dove into preschool in anticipation of her turn at kindergarten. I wonder if you know that I overheard your conversation earlier tonight at bedtime when you assured her "you're gonna LOVE elementary school!"

What a cheerleader you've been . . . not only for her, but for the kids who won the student council elections that you lost or for the friends who just needed a hug for no particular reason. Believe me when I say that your school report card doesn't matter to me in the long run. It's the stuff of your heart and the desire to be a reflection of Jesus that makes the difference. I am praying tonight, that in spite of the new school, older kids and new experiences that are just around the corner for you, that you remember you are a child of the King! He has great plans for you. Don't ever forget to look to Him first as you navigate the waters ahead!

Mackenzie, my baby and brand new kindergartener, I knew you'd be more than ready for this first day for so long! From the time you were barely three, you advised me to "drop me off right here, Mom" on that first day we swung into the parking lot of your preschool. I knew you'd be going off to do your thing with hardly a glance back in my direction. Believe it or not, I'm ok with that. I know, deep in my heart, that I need to give you this freedom. It's part of my job, even if I don't always like it!

I hope that you will remember the importance of being Christ-like. As you adjust to being in kindergarten and out of the cocoon-like atmosphere of preschool, I hope you will remember those all-important skills that go beyond coloring, learning about letter sounds and the difference between upper and lower case letters. I hope it's stuff like sharing the crayons, waiting patiently for your turn at things, and recognizing when those teachers of yours might just need a hug that become second nature for you. I pray that you will enjoy days of being a leader, but also learn the importance of being a good follower. I pray that you will have success. I also pray you will learn lessons that teach humility.

To both of you sweet girls, I pray you will continue to be focused on Him . . . to let Him be the ultimate teacher, advisor and line leader! I pray that you will give Him your struggles and thank Him for your victories.

I pray all these things, my sweet girls, on this eve of your first day at a new school. I love you dearly!

Love,
Mom

Bo Meets Ozzie

2010-08-21T06:44:00.000-07:00

"No way, Mom. NOT going to happen. I'm willing to play fetch, work on that potty training thing and even chew on the coffee table, but I'm NOT having any part of meeting this other dog whom you so fondly call 'Ozzie.'"

Bo: "Did you not hear me? I believe I said 'No!'"

Ozzie: "Relax, kid. Let me have a look at you."

Ozzie: "That's right, kid. I AM the ALPHA dog here. Don't you forget it."

Ozzie: "Ok, I've smelled where I need to. Let's have a closer look at this other end here. And don't even think about trying to smack me again with that little paw of yours. You did it once already. I'm watching you, kid."

Ozzie: "All right. You passed inspection. Now for the rules: 1. My house. 2. My yard. Got it?"

Ozzie: " . . . and rule #3: if we're going to walk the yard, I follow closely to make sure you haven't forgotten the rule #1 and #2."

Ozzie: "You know . . . I think you're ok, kid . . . just as long as you don't forget those rules, ok?"

Ozzie: "Yeah . . . I think this could be the start of a beautiful relationship. As long as you remember the rules. And by the way . . . this is a great spot to . . . you know . . . do your business. I'm happy to share it with you. Just don't forget those rules, of course."

Ozzie: "Maybe we should shake on it. Do you know how to do that yet?"

It's a Bo-tiful Day!

2010-08-13T20:20:00.000-07:00

It's been 1 week since we brought home our fluffy bundle of joy.

And what a week it's been!

So many people advised "it's just like having a newborn again." I smiled every time another well-meaning person mentioned this-comforting myself in knowing our puppy would be different. And well adjusted. And happy. And showered with toys. And given treats. And ample petting. No whimpering necessary.

I wonder if crow tastes good. It looks like I might be eating some.

Night #1:
Last potty trip outside for evening: check.
Fluffy blankie for crate-complete with smells of litter mates from Bo's first home: check.
Treat inside of crate to entice Bo into liking his kennel: check.

After weighing the advice of many and what I'd been reading in the puppy books from the library, we decided to keep Bo and his crate in our bedroom-anticipating middle-of-the-night potty breaks. We put Bo in his crate and crawled in bed ourselves, holding our breath as we listened to the quiet. Ahhhh . . . such a sweet puppy.

I'm sure you're way ahead of me here. Within minutes of turning out the light and anticipating a good night's sleep, it began. The whimpering was quiet at first, but before we knew it, the sounds had given way to down and out shrieking and borderline screaming.

Suffice to say, it wasn't the quietest night in our home. (yawn)

Thankfully, Bo is starting to establish a bit of a predictable routine in our home, although we did switch it up a bit Thursday evening. A late night at work had me walking in the door at 2:30 am to the sight of Gregg still wide awake and working on his computer. In anticipation of Bo's 4:00 cry to go outside, we jumped on the opportunity to get puppy face outside to do his business a couple of hours ahead of schedule. Imagine my surprise when he still woke up at 4 am. (Really puppy? Must you?)

At 6 am, like he has done every morning this past week, he was awake. WIDE awake. If he could talk, he'd surely be saying "I love you! I love mornings! I love that you must pay attention to me to avoid a puddle in front of the coffee maker!" I just didn't have it in me. I took him out to potty and looked at that pitiful face when we got inside again. There's NO leaving him gated in the kitchen by himself while I sneak off to try and catch a few more moments of sleep. He hasn't had any part of it all week ('cause believe me, I've tried!). He whimpers, whines, cries and makes the most horrible noises until I give in and climb over the gate again. It's awful. So there we
sit . . . him eagerly wagging his teeny little tail and me slumped over the kitchen table with my coffee-smiling feebly and asking him if he slept well.

After a night of next-to-no-sleep with my late arrival home and the regularly scheduled sounds of Bo's usual 4 am potty break (God bless my husband for taking that one on), I did what any sleep-deprived mom would do upon waking to the 6 am puppy clock.

I woke my oldest child.

"I have some good news and some not-so-good news," I whispered to a sleeping Cassidy-right after I managed to climb the ladder to her loft bed and thanked the dear Lord that I didn't fall off in my stupor. She lifted her head groggily (like mother, like daughter) and looked at me.

"My good news," I began, "is that we have a new puppy. The not-so-good news is that we have a new puppy." Confusion clouded her face. "Ok. Here's the deal . . . neither Daddy or I have had more than a couple of hours of sleep and Bo is tearing around the house and lovin' life. You're on puppy duty."

My heart nearly soared with joy when she popped right up and eagerly climbed down the ladder.

"Sure, Mom! No problem! You go right back to bed. I've got it under control."

I'd be lying if I said that Cassidy didn't become my most favorite person in the world at that moment.

I crawled back into bed and slept for another couple of hours. Ah, bliss! Pure and simple bliss.

As the remainder of the day drifted by, we continued to discover the joys of having a dog in our life again . . . We've gotten reacquainted with tearing around the yard and watching him flop down in the grass and pant and grin at us. We've observed him stalk anything that seems the least bit interesting (stray pieces of his food that he flips out of his dish or clumps of leaves that fall from the work of the squirrels in the trees above him) and have taken him for rides in the car. On Friday, he met the friendly people at our bank and sampled their milk bones, met a couple of his human cousins, a friend of Cassidy's and took his first trip into PetSmart. To say that "it's a dog's life" would be an understatement. He had a blast.

He has stolen our hearts and we are in love. He's not our sweet Sadie, but he's our sweet Bo. And just like Sadie, he's ours. And it's all good. (No matter how much or how little sleep is involved!)

In Search Of a "Nice" Mommy . . .

2010-08-02T21:31:00.001-07:00

Mackenzie: "Mommy, will you play with me? Let's pretend, ok? I'll be the little girl and you be the mommy, ok?"

Me: "Got it. I'm the mommy and you're the little girl."

Mackenzie: "But . . . you're a nice mommy . . . you let your little girl have candy and gum without making her ask first."

Me: "Hmmmm. I see. You want me to be a "nice" mommy . . . let my little girl eat candy or chew gum without having to ask first, right?"

Mackenzie: "Yep."

Me: "So, you don't want me to be like ME, you want me to be "nice."

Mackenzie: "YES!!!!" she says as she smiles and claps her hands.

Life in the land of make believe . . . I wonder what Mr. Rogers would have done.

Summer Rewind

2010-07-24T17:05:00.000-07:00

7 weeks ago, I was patting myself on the back . . . congratulating myself on planning a very laid-back summer. Or perhaps, that should read "failing to plan" a very full summer. I don't know. Take your pick.

At any rate, it doesn't much matter. What started out as a very lazy-sleep-in-and-we-don't-have-to-be-anywhere-anytime-soon kind of existence fast forwarded into a busy few weeks here lately. Mackenzie was busy, for example, finding the perfect outfit on this particular day. ;-)

And then there was the busy day of hanging out with Aunt Sass and Cousin Katherine . . . Amish Country, baby! Don't forget to buy some homemade peanut butter while you're there!

Then it was a busy few fun-filled days vacationing in Omaha. I can't tell you how many people said to me, "Vacation? In Omaha? Really?"

Yes. Really. It's a beautiful city . . .

. . . rich in history and amazing landmarks, as shown here at General Crook's house.

We also visited the Durham Museum. Below is a giant floor map of Omaha. Even though it's difficult to see, I'm pointing to Paddock Road . . . the road where my grandparents, Nanny and Poppop, built their home, raised my mom and her sister and opened it to all of us grandchildren time and time again. Poppop was the one responsible for naming their road. I love that I can tell my own girls about this little piece of history, and perhaps someday they will tell children of their own.

We were also busy at the zoo. Bless Gregg's heart. I think I can say with utmost confidence that the zoo was a big part of the reason for vacationing in Omaha. For at least 10 years (since the last time I visited Henry Doorly Zoo when Cassidy was a baby) I've wistfully said "gosh, I'd love to visit the zoo" every time we cross the Nebraska state line for the purpose of going to a football game. I think Gregg was tired of me saying it.

Below, a meerkat poses for a photo. I think he finally decided on his "best side" for the photo op. (Doesn't it look like he's wearing a headset? The girls thought it was hilarious!)

I love the next photo. It's a nest . . .

. . . well, actually a very BIG nest!

We've all seen elephants at zoos, but I had to include this one on the blog because it looks EXACTLY like the one that Gregg took. No lie! (Remember, my husband does this professionally.) I was busy doing the happy dance all day long when we compared photos. Duplicate photos, people!

The photo below is at a drive-thru safari park in Omaha. Yeeeeeeee-hawwwwwwwww!!

The animals throughout the park are THIS close. Our girls were enthralled.

I can safely say that I've never seen a buffalo scratch its nose with its hind foot. I think it's pretty safe to say that I probably won't ever see it again.

Before we left Omaha, we made a stop at the cemetery where my grandparents are buried. Some might frown at this one, but I thought it was appropriate . . . Mackenzie turning cartwheels next to their grave. I'd like to think that Nanny was watching and applauding while Poppop was simply smiling and shaking his head. Either way, it's a place where I'd rather remember them as full of life . . . just like Mackenzie is busy demonstrating.

And for a few days, I was busy re-painting Mackenzie's bedroom. She chose the colors and while I initially had some doubts, I absolutely love it now! Gregg painted clouds on the ceiling and it's a great room! Nanna also fell in love with the room and jokingly asked Mackenzie if she could move in with her. Later, in private, Mackenzie asked me if that would be ok to invite Nanna to live with us in her room. She stopped short of granting Nanna permission to sleep in her bed, though. She has decided that Nanna gets the beanbag chair instead. ;-)

I was also busy helping Cassidy find an outfit to wear to a 60's party. Thankfully, we'd just had a tye-dye party with a few friends, so the shirt came in handy. I even tye-dyed a shirt!

We were also busy getting in the basement one evening . . . nasty storms ripped through our area and part of a tree in our yard ended up in our neighbor's yard. I had to take a photo of the cloud (below) 'cause there were just some really awesome formations. Later, the girls and I decided that the cloud resembled a dog wearing a scarf, sitting up and begging. :-)

And on the topic of begging, Cassidy was busy begging me to "stop taking photos already" when she ventured out for a camping trip with her youth group at church. Nice look, don't you agree?

I promise that as soon as I snapped the group photo below, I got busy and left the church, much to her relief!

Have I mentioned the word "busy" in this post yet? If not, let me say that it's been a nice relaxing summer. BUT . . . it's about to get busy. REALLY BUSY!

Welcome to the family, Bo! This will be the summer we remember anticipating opening our hearts and home to another furry family member!

Now . . . if you'll excuse me . . . I need to go get busy.
:-)

Catching Up

2010-06-05T06:30:00.000-07:00

It's been forever since my last post. I have great excuses explaining my absence, though.

In an attempt to catch up, I present my latest Top 10 List . . . "Reasons I've Been MIA."

In no particular order (except to try and document the last 2+ months chronologically), here it is:

10 . . . Spring Break. We didn't travel anywhere, but thanks to Gregg's employer, we did get to enjoy a date night and catch a Bulls game at the same time. Fun!

9 . . . Spring game with the family in mid-April. AWESOME!!!!! Go Big Red, people!

8-7 . . . Preparing for AND executing the annual "Friday Night Live" event at Cassidy's school. (This one deserves TWO numbers, as it required a "little" more doing than many of the other items on this list!) I co-chaired the event and had a blast doing it. Our top secret theme for the evening was "UP," with a few twists. In these photos, you will see a replica of the house from the movie. Gregg spent lots of hours building it and his hard work paid off. We also participated in the skits that took place throughout the night-hence the gray hair you see on Gregg, although underneath the fake gray, there might be a few "real" ones after completing that house!!!

6 . . . Preschool graduation for Mackenzie-what a fast three years of preschool. Wow!

5-4 . . . Studio performance!!!! (Again, note the fact that this one earned TWO numbers on my list!) This is a photo with cast members. It was a family event . . . in addition to all of the behind-the-scenes work, Mom and Papa Dean danced, Gregg ran lights, Darci and her girls danced, Happi and Jerry sang, Cody played violin, and us three girls danced. "The Triplets" (Mackenzie, Alaina and Chloe) also made their studio debut all together. So much fun!!

3 . . . Field Day at Cassidy's school. I helped out again this year and had a lot of fun along with the kids.

2 . . . Fifth Grade Graduation. Not only were the fifth graders bidding the school farewell, but also both the teachers . . . one to retirement and one (Cassidy's teacher in the photo) to play professional volleyball in Europe!

1 . . . Strawberry Season!! We've never picked our own strawberries before now. We celebrated the first day of summer by heading out to choose our own berries for the annual "making of the jam." We had so much fun that we invited cousins along to repeat the trip the next day. Chloe was in HEAVEN!

I did mention that we did a repeat of this trip the next day with the cousins, right? 5 buckets later, I did MANY batches of jam and still have 2 buckets remaining. That's my cue to close this post and go figure out more uses for strawberries!

Cuteness Defined

2010-03-27T19:26:00.000-07:00

Cute!!!!!

Cuter!!!!

Cutest!!!!!!

I'm SO Stealing This One . . .

2010-03-24T14:17:00.000-07:00

Ok friends, I'm back. And I'm a bit rusty . . . not a lot of time for writing, but missing my blog nonetheless. As I was catching up on some other blogs earlier, I saw a post on Beth Moore's blog and am totally stealing her idea. She listed 10 random things "You Might Not Know" and encouraged her readers to do so as well in the comments section. If you want to play along here on Thing 1 and Thing 2, be sure to list your own 10 items in the comments section. I can't wait to see what you've got.

In no particular order, here are 10 COMPLETELY random things about me:

1. I sleep on my stomach, both arms tucked under my pillow with one leg bent and the other leg straight down . . . sometimes hugging a pillow to my chest. Yes, I do see a chiropractor from time to time.

2. I am currently doing price comparisons for a new clothing steamer. I hate to iron.

3. I don't sew. I used to sew back in middle school . . . made a bag, a stuffed dog, a pillow in the shape of a "K" and an outfit consisting of a prarie skirt with matching quilted jacket. I haven't sewn since. Just ask any one of my family members.

4. I get a lump in my throat whenever I see the "Nebraska . . . the Good Life" sign on I-80 and also weep during the tunnel walk that precedes every Nebraska home football game. That's how I roll.

5. I've never seen one episode of "Lost," "The Office" or "Survivor." I CAN tell you, however, about my favorite pros on "Dancing with the Stars" and that I think Jake is an idiot for choosing Vienna.

6. I'm not a fan of my feet and shudder at the thought of getting a pedicure. Gross.

7. My first car was a '64 Plymouth Barracuda. If it's still alive out there somewhere, I'm wondering if there's still half of a candy cane in the carburetor. (Don't ask.)

8. I am "directionally challenged." Whether you put me in the middle of a forest or a shopping mall, I'd have a hard time telling you which way is north. It's horrible.

9. I can't stand to throw away stuff that is recyclable. I've been known to take empty plastic water bottles and soda cans with me if it's something I can put out with our recycling.

10. I like roasted marshmallows, but shudder at the thought of eating Peeps or anything else that is pure marshmallow. Disgusting.

Your turn . . . the more random, the better. Ready? Set? GO!

Happy Birthday Cassidy

2010-01-28T07:46:00.001-08:00

Eleven years . . . my life is richer because of this sweet girl!

Happy Birthday Sweetie! I love you like crazy!

Love,
Mommy

Someday, When I Grow Up . . .

2010-01-23T20:24:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, there was this park across the street from Nanny and Poppop's house and the main attraction was this:

If you look closely, this rocket has 3 floors . . . the top of which is known as "the cockpit."

Do rockets have cockpits? I'm not really sure, but it doesn't matter. It's what I called it as a kid, so we'll leave it at that.

Whenever all of us cousins were in Omaha together, there was a mad dash to reach the rocket first. Truth be told, the mad dash was usually between me and my older cousin, David. Sadly, he always outran me and reached the cockpit first. Therefore, being the "loser" in the race, I was banned from the top post in the rocket and relegated to the lower floors, serving as the cleaning woman.

Do rocket ships have cleaning women? I'm not really sure, but it doesn't matter. David made up the rules.

There were times that David wasn't in town to make that race to the rocket with me. Some days I'd race by myself and triumphantly reach the cockpit-only to feel a little empty. There was no glory since I hadn't really won any race to get there.

Later, as adults with our own kids along, we ventured over to the rocket. I'm sure you know what happened next.

Sadly, our kids couldn't have cared less about the rocket. I don't think our spouses really "got it" either. David and I were left to fight it out on our own.

Nearly 7 years ago, we arrived at Poppop's house for a reunion. He had big news for us.

The rocket was gone. Poof. Almost like it had lifted off.

The story was such big news, as no one ever saw the rocket leave the park or knew what happened to it. I immediately turned to David and accused him of stealing it. It would be just like him to take off with it in the middle of the night, never to allow me to come and clean it again. I could just picture him at the top in the cockpit every morning, sipping his coffee before starting his work day-laughing with glee and gloating. Lots and LOTS of gloating.

I'm still not entirely convinced he didn't take it. I haven't been to his house since he moved. He could have it sitting in his backyard for all I know-sitting in the cockpit day in and day out and STILL gloating. (I think I can hear him laughing as we speak!)

That's ok though. I am an adult. I have matured. A lot. (sniff)

Besides. When I get a little bit older and make a little more money, I'm going to have something even bigger and BETTER than he'll EVER have in his backyard . . .

Did you hear about what NASA is selling?

Oh yeah, baby. Want to come and play in MY backyard?

I wonder if David knows how to dust.

Perspective

2010-01-09T18:36:00.000-08:00

It's days like today that remind me to appreciate the things that can easily be taken for granted.

Pure silliness is one of them. One day, Mackenzie might be just "too cool" to be willing to pose for a photo like this one. ;-)

Or the sight of my mom being just as excited to have Santa sitting in the family room as her granddaughters were. (You can't see him in this photo, but he was there-trust me!)

Aha-there he is! And I can't take for granted that my 10 year-old sat on his lap. "As long as I live, my baby you'll be."

Speaking of babies, we can't take our furry babies for granted. I love you, Ozzie!

It's also nice to be reminded of the importance of a good snuggle!

I love it when the cousins get together and to listen to the sound of them playing and having fun with each other. As they get older, the dynamics might change and they may also fight us on wearing their new Christmas PJ's for a group photo. For now though, it's all good and I'm lovin' it!

Today, I was given the gift of perspective-sadly however, as I attended the funeral of an 18 year-old boy. I watched his family say goodbye and I thought about my own girls. I also hugged them extra tight when I tucked them into bed tonight.

And again, I am reminded to be more appreciative of the little things easily taken for granted and to perhaps not "sweat the small stuff" so much.

Thank you, Evan. You will never be forgotten.

Happy Birthday Jesus!

2009-12-25T21:22:00.001-08:00

I Wish You a Merry Christmas

2009-12-20T20:13:00.000-08:00

There's nothing like being a "people watcher" . . . especially during the holidays. It's fascinating-a little disheartening at times, but also uplifting when you are blessed to see some cool stuff happening during this time of the year. (See my previous post for an example of that cool stuff!) Unfortunately however, this season can bring out the best AND the worst in people. As I have spent the last Christmas and this current one working a second job in retail, I can tell you for certain that there are some people who desperately need to have a Merry Christmas. Below is my wish for one particular customer. With all my heart, I hope he has the best Christmas ever.

Dear Sir,

I wish I had been able to complete your transaction from start to finish yesterday. I really enjoyed talking with your young son as he was handing me items he had chosen to give his mom for Christmas. Your son looked to be about the same age as my oldest daughter. I wondered if maybe they were in the same grade. He seemed so pleased with the job he had done picking out those things for his mom. It appeared that he was paying with his own money, as he had a fistful of bills wadded up in his hand. I really wanted him to be able to get the most for his money and of course, we both know what happened next.

When I tried to point out a better deal on one of those items on sale, I truly didn't realize that the item he had already chosen was also on sale. I do apologize for the error. I am human. Humans make mistakes.

While I am hurt that you chose to begin yelling and screaming at me, causing an entire store to grow silent and uncomfortable, I can only imagine that you are perhaps under some stress yourself these days. You are not alone. Trust me.

What was most concerning to me was the look on your young son's face during your tirade, as I attempted to offer my apologies. I wondered if this was a typical display of behavior for you. For his sake, I hope not. I hope that he wakes up on Christmas morning looking forward to time with his parents and not wondering what he might be facing when he greets you after waking up.

I apologize for turning my back on your son, and for asking my manager to finish up the transaction for me. You see, I have my own "stuff" too and you triggered an avalanche of emotion in me at that moment. For everyone's sake-especially your son, I knew at that one moment, my staying at the cash register would have been a bad decision.

As I wiped the tears from my eyes in the privacy of the back room, I must admit to being mortified and hurt. At that moment, admittedly it was all about me-it was about my hurt, my embarrassment and my "teetering on the edge of losing it." That all changed however, when my manager came back to check on me after she finished up with your son. As she hugged me and reassured me I had done nothing wrong, do you know that she told me that your wife felt horrible about your public outburst. Did you see your wife begin to sob as she apologized for your behavior? Did you hear your wife ask my manager to apologize to me? I can only wonder.

Here's the amazing thing though. There's this thing called grace. Notice how I used the word "amazing." Immediately, I felt a tugging on my heart to extend you some grace. You were obviously having a bad moment. Sadly, that moment extended next to your wife. I can only guess that it may have extended to your son as well. I felt so sad for you. Sure, I was still hurt and humiliated at best, but I have a Savior who has extended grace to me time and time again. I continued to think about it for the rest of the night and through the day today.

As I stood and sang with the choir this morning in church, I felt the overwhelming presence of my Savior come over me. My eyes filled up with tears. THIS is what Christmas is about!!! Our Lord came to earth in the flesh!!! He was born in the worst of conditions, but He came anyway!!! He came for you and for me!! Is that not mind-blowing???? I sure think it is! How can we even begin to let the small things of the holidays get to us like this when He did this for us?

I made myself a promise at the start of the holiday season. I will also be the first to admit that I'm not doing such a great job at keeping it. I promised myself that I was going to stop more often. I was going to take more deep breaths. I was going to not let the small stuff get me down. It's Christmas after all. It'll be over in the blink of an eye. Do I want my family to remember my weepy moments and sheer exhaustion or the moments that I stopped and decided to forgo the work at hand and spend time with them instead?

That's a silly question. You already know the answer. And you know something else? I've prayed that very thing for you several times since our encounter yesterday in the store. I've prayed with such a passion that you would find joy in this Christmas season in an undeniable way! I'm going to continue to pray that very thing not only for you, but also your wife and son. What a gift that would be for them!!!!

So, from me to you, I wish you the merriest Christmas ever. I pray that your heart can feel that "busting out of the seams" kind of joy that mine did this morning and that it's contagious to everyone around you. I pray that you smile and laugh a lot! I pray that you feel that feeling that is undeniably the presence of our Lord tugging on your heart.

And not only do I wish you a Merry Christmas, but I also wish you love. When it's all said and done, that's really the only thing that matters-not only during Christmas, but every day of the year!

In His Grip,
Kari

Holiday Happenings . . .

2009-12-13T15:03:00.000-08:00

Whew. 'Tis the season . . . and what a whirlwind it's been so far. It seems that every time I turn around, there's something on the calendar that involves the likes of Thing 1 and Thing 2, but that's ok. People with grown children continually remind me that these days will be gone before I know it, so I'm savoring each event.

Mackenzie has finished her last day of preschool for 2009. She had a Christmas program on Friday, but was most excited about the reception following, where she could load her plate up with cookies. Ah, that's my girl. LOL!

Earlier in the week, however, her class did some shopping for their 6 year-old Christmas angel named Mark-chosen by the teachers. After several notes went home to the parents-explaining that their desire was for our children to earn $2 by helping out around the house, shopping day finally arrived. As their teacher divided the bills into piles, the preschoolers started counting out loud in unison, starting with $1. Evidently the preschoolers did a lot of work, because they didn't stop chanting until after squealing $102! Right after learning how much money they had to work with, they discussed the rules of shopping . . . how to behave, where to meet, etc. Their teacher leaned in close. "What's the most important thing to remember when we get to Walmart?" she asked. One little boy immediately shot his hand in the air.

"Have PATIENCE" he sighed. Us moms standing along the sidelines giggled. His mom grinned and pumped her fist in the air. "That's my boy," she cheered quietly.

Off we went. Per Mrs. M's instructions, the children scattered with their moms to choose one toy that they thought Mark might enjoy. The picture below shows a perplexed Mackenzie holding up an item she thinks that boys might like to have. (That's the problem with the high level of estrogen in this house . . . we just try and do educated guessing when it comes to the mystery of little boys.)

After the kids had made their choices, the next destination was the bike aisle ("more room to have a meeting," explained Mrs. M.). Here is where she held up her class' choices one at a time for a vote to determine if (1) all the kids felt it was worth keeping and (2) they had enough money for all the approved items. Upon holding up the first item for the power of democracy to begin, she announced that the "Mega Deluxe Lego Set" was going to cost $98 . . . leaving no more money left for any other gifts for their angel. One little boy spoke up and said "NO way-that's WAY too much money!" The other kids quickly echoed similar sentiments and the Lego set went into the reject pile. Onward and upward.

Once the class made their final decisions, they made their way over to the checkout. Mrs. M handed each child a few bills in order for them all to help "pay" for the gifts.

The photo below shows the pile of loot that Mark will be unwrapping on Christmas morning. They were so excited with their choices. I don't think I will ever forget this field trip!

Last week was also busy for Cassidy. Along with students from other schools in the district, she sang in the annual "This Is Our Story" concert. Last year was my first opportunity to attend the concert and I walked away-totally blown away by the talent in our school district. In addition to vocal and instrumental presentations is an art show featuring all age groups in the district. The photo below shows Cassidy next to a piece of her artwork that was chosen for display. (It's the one with the people, directly to the right of her head.)

She also was busy at work with the K-Kids group at school. Each year, along with the Student Council, they put together the secret recipe for reindeer food and sell it to anyone seeking to attract Rudolph and his friends to their house. The money received benefits the Salvation Army AND anyone living at the house with a lawn sporting reindeer food. It's a win-win for everyone involved! Here is a photo of the kids taking a break to pose for me. The daughter of yours truly is bouncing up and down in the very back, sporting a Santa hat with a sign taped on the front. In other words, you can't really see her.

As the bake sale and reindeer food prep take place, so does the "Secret Santa" shop at school. I can remember these types of shops at my own elementary school. God bless each and every single one of my loved ones for their display of awe and wonder upon opening each gift I lovingly chose for them. ;-) Oh my. Enough said. Here is a photo of Thing 2 carefully labeling her chosen gifts. I think this year's winner of the "best gift ever" will be Papa Dean. I'd go ahead and tell you what Mackenzie thought seemed the most appropriate gift for her grandfather, but he reads my blog (I think) and I don't want to spoil the surprise. Perhaps I'll save that for a post later this month . . .

And that, my friends, is what we've been up to at our house . . . craziness, chaos and laughter (I did mention Papa Dean's gift, right?). Life is hectic, but it's good.

Really good.

A Dose of Medicine AND Humility

2009-12-02T20:24:00.000-08:00

I picked up my youngest child from preschool this morning . . . noting that the medicine I'd given her before school for her sniffles seemed to be working nicely. She was so excited when she saw me standing outside her classroom. If she could have turned herself inside out, I think she would have done just that.

"Mommy?" she said excitedly.

"What sweetie?" I answered.

"Mrs. Holmes knows how to wipe my nose really REALLY good!" she replied.

"Well . . . good!" I ventured, not quite sure of where she was going with this.

"Yeah," she added. "She actually does it MUCH better than you do!"

Nothing like a slice of humble pie, served by my youngest offspring, to go along with my morning coffee. It's one more reason to love mornings.

Turkey Days, Fake Trees and Black Friday Madness . . . Lots of Firsts For Me On Thanksgiving Weekend!

2009-11-26T08:21:00.001-08:00

Has it really been over a week since I've updated the blog? Definitely! Things have been crazy busy around here and lengthy stretches of time available for blogging are minimal at best. Right now I have a few different options of other things that I could be doing with my time, but blogging is more fun than all of them combined. Here goes a lengthy update on the holiday and weekend that followed . . .

Thanksgiving Day looked altogether different for our family this year. Normally we head south and meet up halfway with my Aunt Sass and her family. Due to you-know-who and his newly repaired knee that is not-quite-yet-fit for lengthy times in the car, we stayed home but sent our girls along with my parents to meet up with the relatives.

As soon as it appeared that there was no way Gregg could handle the trip, I became contemplative . . . quietly mulling over a huge decision . . . one that I had never given any thought to-until now. After much more thought, I knew it had to happen.

I was going to make a turkey. (gasp)

Make no mistake. This was a huge decision and I didn't come to it lightly. You have no idea how many people I talked to, how many websites I searched and the frantic call I placed to the Butterball hotline. (There really is such a thing, by the way. I'd have never believed it if I hadn't dialed the number myself and talked to the nicest woman about my turkey dilemma.) Even Gregg looked somewhat doubtful when I breathlessly came in from the grocery store one week ago and said "I DID IT!! I BOUGHT A TURKEY!!" His response was that it would have been fine with him to buy sliced turkey from the deli and to have sandwiches. I turned on my heel and lovingly put our turkey right into the refrigerator. Because I know you can't wait to hear the rest, I must tell you that I remain faithful to my fan/s. I live-blogged from my kitchen on Thanksgiving Day:

9 am: Decide to get started on dinner. First up: get dessert out of the way (not eating it, making it). Realize that I didn't do so hot at trying to recall the ingredients needed for creme brulee and decide that a trip to the grocery store is in order for just one more pint of cream. Off I go.

10:07 Minor setback. Turkey is still slightly frozen. Off to the sink it goes.

10:21: Creme Brulee is in the oven.

11:30: Operation turkey prep begins. Realize I don't have any sage for that nifty little recipe for a rub I found online at 11:30 pm last night. Oh well.

Noon: Express difference in opinion with my husband as to the method of cooking the turkey. He has been watching A LOT of television this past week and has struck up a friendship with Alton Brown on the Food Network. It would appear that Alton is getting his way AND is advising me from the laptop computer that my hubby has lovingly placed on our kitchen table to help guide the process.

1:23: Internal temperature of turkey is 176 degrees. Four more degrees and we're nearly home free. My potatoes are just about ready, innards of turkey are simmering for stuffing project ahead and I'm watching the bread rise slower than molasses. Thankfully I have back-up dinner rolls if the bread is a no-go. I should probably set the table.

Suffice to say, this was all that I managed to do in the attempt at live-blogging during the process. Holy cow-things go fast when you're trying to prepare a meal of that type AND blog while doing so. Not happening again.

I will say that the turkey was mighty tasty once it was finally done and THAT'S all I'll say about that. Onward and upward.

I accomplished another "first" on Thanksgiving Day and put up our new artificial Christmas tree. Normally we're a "real tree only" family but crutches and sharp objects don't really go well together. We unanimously decided to give Daddy a break this year and go artificial. After painstakingly undoing and "fluffing" all million-and-one branches, I came to the conclusion that I probably could have accomplished another first and chopped one down myself in a fraction of the time. After patting myself on the back for assembling and fluffing branches without calling an artificial tree hotline, I headed to bed. Friday morning awaited me and so did my 6 am start time at work. Black Friday madness was a mere few hours away.

Mind you, I love to shop with the best of them, but I am not a get-out-of-bed-early-to-be-a-part-of-the-madness kind of girl. Therefore, I have never been an early Black Friday morning shopper. I've heard stories, I've seen pictures and I've listened wide-eyed to people regale me with their tales, but I've never believed them.

Until now.

Because I'm slightly paranoid (wait a minute-I've got to go make sure I turned the oven off), I set my alarm for much earlier than necessary in order to make sure that in case traffic was a little heavy or in case it would be difficult to find a parking spot, I would have plenty of time to make the 5 minute commute to work from my house. Gregg and I joked about it the night beforehand. Surely it wouldn't be too bad.

Another first for me . . . an eyewitness account of what craziness ensues on the morning of Black Friday. People actually get up BEFORE the sun does in order to shop! Are you kidding me?? At the sight of headlights for miles near where I work, I grabbed my phone and started texting Gregg at the stoplight. I wrote "This is INSANE! You wouldn't believe this!" Once I saw that a few parking spots were available near the store where I work, I headed a few stores away over to Kohls, pulled into a parking space and headed in. I had about an hour-and-a-half to kill and what better thing to do at 4:30 am than check out what Kohls looks like on Black Friday morning.

Ah . . . a few of you are with me. You know!!!! Yes my friends-at that hour, you walk into Kohls and see the lines straight ahead of you. Follow the line and you will discover that it winds all the way around the outer aisles of the store in order to end at the registers. Seriously.

I'm sure that my mouth was hanging open. I officially became a gawker. Unbelievable. I whipped my phone out again.

"In Kohls now-you wouldn't believe it. CRAZY!!" I knew that once Gregg awoke from his slumber he would appreciate the text.

I walked right out of Kohls and decided to get serious. I had to get to work before it was too late. As soon as I found a spot and parked, I started walking and also called the store. The assistant manager answered.

"Jen, it's me Kari! I'm heading to the door. Can you let me in?" I saw her appear from the back room and head to the front door. As I made my way past customers lined up to get in, I was greeted with "Are you opening up early?" "What time can we come in?" I laughed and said "You people are either really nuts or extremely dedicated!!" They laughed in reply and seemed content to continue hanging out watching through the glass once Jen let me in.

Thankfully, the day was crazy busy. It went by quickly, the sales were good, my manager was thrilled and I only encountered one crabby customer. I was scheduled for Saturday and Sunday as well and I have to say that other than the man who stood next to me hissing, growling and barking at me and then the 12-ish year-old girl who threw herself on the floor and threw the worst temper tantrum for her dad that I have EVER seen in my entire life, it was a good weekend for the retail gig. And yes. I am telling the honest truth. Hissing, growling, barking and temper tantrums were all part of it. Just ask my mom. I feared she would knock some of her ribs out of alignment because of laughing so hard as I was telling her about it.

So that, dear friends, is my weekend in a nutshell. A few nuts indeed!

The Christmas season has arrived! I pray that above all, I remember the reason for the celebration-in spite of the craziness and frantic nature that ensues. I need to remember that the focus needs to be on the baby in the manger. I need to remember to quiet my soul and let Him speak to my heart. I need to stop and take in the words to "Silent Night" even during the times that it doesn't seem so silent. I need to stop and breathe-not only for myself but also for my family.

I also need to remember one other minor detail . . .

Buy a pre-cooked ham. Not a frozen turkey.

Patience

2009-11-19T12:37:00.000-08:00

This week just seems appropriate to bring Curious George in to pay a visit to the blog. The illustration above shows the waiting room where George had to sit before he got that shot that was shown in my previous previous blog entry. Another page from one of my favorite books . . . I love Curious George!

Whew. What a week. And to think . . . it's only Thursday.

I am so blessed. In the past several days, I've been reminded of the love, support and friendship that the Lord has given me through incredible family and friends.

Gregg has been down for the count. Literally.

An old high school track injury has been creeping back to haunt him over a number of years now. He finally gave in and decided to have some repair work done, so I found myself playing the waiting game while he was in surgery earlier this week.

It was an interesting time-a little surreal . . . if that makes any sense. It reminded me of times I've sat in an airport terminal and wondered about the reunions and the partings between people in the midst of planes coming in and going out. What kind of stories could people share?

After kissing Gregg and sending him off into the hands of his surgeon, I entered a waiting area holding several others waiting for their loved ones. Off to my right was a mother and her adult son or son-in-law. It appeared that maybe they were waiting for her daughter or his wife to come out of surgery. To my left was an older couple-just before Gregg was taken to surgery, they were hugging an elderly woman who went into the operating room prior to Gregg. Across from me was a woman-maybe about my age. She was waiting for her husband. And so it went. Several other people were scattered in the room-all hunkered down-waiting for the white phone on the desk to ring, alerting each one to the news that their loved one had just been moved to recovery.

I'm not a patient person. In fact, prior to the surgery itself, I teased Gregg-assuring him that I would be so good at caring for him-reminding him of how patient I am. No photo could accurately portray the rolling of the eyes from my husband in response to my comment. I made sure, in my prayer time on the morning of his surgery, to NOT ask the Lord for patience. We all know that NO good can come of that! You want patience? Don't ask for it because He'll give you situations which require it tenfold!

So, it was a bit ironic that the Lord saw fit to dose me with some extra amounts-seeing as how I consciously tried to avoid the topic altogether with Him throughout that morning. One by one, I watched people get up and leave that waiting room after the white phone beckoned them onto other areas of the hospital. The mother of the couple to my left was in and out in the blink of an eye. The mother and adult male with her waited a little longer. At one point I happened to be within earshot of their conversation between each other. She had mentioned something to him about having told some people at her church about their loved one. He nearly spat back at her, angrily admonishing her with "you tell everyone at that church EVERYTHING!! They don't need to know EVERYTHING!!" I know it was a private moment. I couldn't help it though. I looked into her eyes-trying to convey sympathy. She'd reached out to her church family-just as I had done with a few members of mine. It's what we do.

Minutes ticked by. I visited the coffee machine. I visited another room because of too many trips to the coffee machine. As I moved from one place to another, I saw eager family members heading toward Labor & Delivery-where new lives were beginning. In the opposite direction was the ICU waiting area, where I saw family members huddled together-faces stained with tears. We were those people three years ago-when we lost Gregg's dad. I wanted to go into that room-hug complete strangers and tell them that no matter what happens, the Lord remains faithful through it all.

As the minutes ticked by, the waiting area emptied out. Everyone was gone.

Except for me.

I found myself smiling at times, shaking my head in disbelief. I didn't ask for the wait-after all, I'd made sure to not pray for patience. It was all good . . . minor surgery in the grand scheme of things. I really didn't need any of that patience stuff.

But still . . .

Just short of the two hour mark, a man sat down next to me. As I turned to him, I saw it was his surgeon.

"Guess what?" he smiled. "It's all done!" I felt myself exhale. Minor surgery. No big deal. Gregg was fine. So was I.

My patience, however, might need just a bit of tweaking.

George Has Nothin' On This Kid

2009-11-16T04:22:00.001-08:00

I love this book.

For anyone not familiar with it, "Curious George Goes to the Hospital" is AWESOME! I am told that during the first couple years of my life, I spent more time in the hospital and doctors offices than out of them. Somewhere along the way, Nanny and Poppop gifted me with this book.

Today it sits in my curio cabinet, worn and well loved. I dusted it off when Cassidy was a second grader and I got to be the mystery reader one day in her class. I dusted it off again this past weekend to remember just how bad it was for George to get a shot. I'll spare you the play-by-play, but suffice to say, George's reaction prior to the injection was entirely more dramatic than after the needle stick itself. Still . . .

George has nothin' on my kid.

The kid in question would be Mackenzie.

Before anyone sends me hate mail ('cause I know this whole vaccination thing is controversial), let's agree to disagree and leave it at that. Mackenzie's immune system is in the basement these days and when her doctor looked at me in Urgent Care last Sunday night and said "get this fever down for 24 hours and get in my office ASAP for the H1N1 vaccine" my mind was entirely made up. Now, on with the story . . .

Friday was the day. I kept the plans to myself, fully knowing that a head's up would mean nothing but trouble for whoever had to deal with the likes of Thing 2 that day-namely her darling preschool teachers. The hour approached and finally we arrived at the doctor's office with her older sister in tow. As we pulled into the parking lot, Mackenzie piped up. "What're we doing here, Mama?" she asked. I breezily answered that we needed to stop in for a few minutes for something. A few minutes later, we were ushered into an exam room.

Our favorite nurse (whom shall forever be known to me as "the needle artist" because her needle sticks are pain-free) popped her head in and gave Thing 2 a quick glance. "Does she know yet?" she whispered. I cheerfully smiled and shook my head side and side. She glanced back at her small patient. "Are you going to tell her?" she asked me. I sighed. Here goes nothing.

In my brightest, cheeriest voice possible, I broke the news to Mackenzie. Tears immediately arrived on the scene (not mine) and she slid off my lap, looking to make a break for it. Another nurse popped her head in the room. "Do you need help?" she asked. Judy, a.k.a. Needle Artist, nodded. At once, two other women entered the room.

Adults: 4. Crying Children: 1.

Judy looked at me. "I think it would be best to put this in the side of her thigh because her arm is so thin. Can you get her pants down for me?" I nodded as I watched my own flesh and blood dive under the end of the exam table, nearly taking out a floor lamp in the process. I got on my hands and knees, crawling into the corner where my young offspring sat shuddering. I wrapped one arm around her torso and the other under her knees. Just when I thought I had her securely in my arms, she arched her body, wiggled out of my grasp and crawled in the opposite direction. I doubled back from the opposite direction as she frantically looked for a means of escape. I heard one of the nurses quietly murmur "oh my." Cassidy stood near the wall with her hand over her mouth giggling softly.

Once captured, I wedged her between my knees and fumbled for the snap on her jeans. I pulled the zipper down and then moved onto pulling the jeans down. The jeans wouldn't budge. I pulled up her shirt, only to discover that she had managed to curl every single finger around her belt loops and hang on for dear life. I pulled and tugged. So did she. Finally, it seemed that I was winning the battle when the child went limp and collapsed to the floor. I stood her up again, made another inch of progress with the jeans and she collapsed again. And again. And again. It reminded me a little of what it would be like to eat not-quite-yet-set Jello with a fork . . . frustrating, impossible and infuriating all at the same time.

Meanwhile, the 3-woman needle brigade looked on in astonishment. I looked at them and in my kindest voice possible said, "Can I get a little help here?"

Somehow, some way, we managed to get the jeans down and her body positioned as best as possible. With everyone positioned as they were, it was impossible for Mackenzie to see what was going on. At the touch of the alcohol pad to her leg, she let out a scream. Cassidy continued to giggle. I shot a look in Cassidy's direction and told Mackenzie it would be over before she knew it. I think at that point, she let out a low growl. Or maybe that was my own voice I heard . . .

The needle artist stood upright again. "All done!" she said happily. The other women looked at me; color had drained from their faces. I nodded sympathetically. Mackenzie immediately stopped crying.

"It's done?" she asked. Judy nodded. I shot a look at Mackenzie. "You were crying and carrying on so much, you couldn't even feel it, could you?" She shook her head sheepishly. The needle brigade quickly left the room. Cassidy stood off to the side, still holding her hand over her mouth.

We finally exited from the exam room. I looked at the nurses and thanked them.

"I promise," I said as I held my right hand in the air, "that I will try at ALL costs to NEVER put you ladies through this again." They smiled and reassured me that it was ok. As we left the building however, I had visions of them adding Mackenzie's name to a wall-of-horrors with a Sharpie marker. Surely at their annual office Christmas party, Mackenzie will make the 2009 Top Ten list of most memorable patients to walk in their doors.

As we drove away, I dreamed about the possibility of a nap. I glanced in the rearview mirror at Thing 2.

"That didn't hurt a bit," she smiled.

Living Proof . . .

2009-11-10T10:58:00.000-08:00

I had an incredible opportunity to visit Springfield, Illinois this past weekend and worship with nearly 9,000 other women (and a few brave men) at a Living Proof Ministries event featuring Beth Moore and Travis Cottrell. I've participated in many of Beth Moore's Bible Studies at our church and was looking forward to hearing and seeing her live. In the photo below, I assure you that she was indeed "THIS close" to me!

Our women's ministry coordinator began planning this trip last winter. The wait to get to this weekend seemed like a long one, but it was well worth it!

Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD. Psalm 27:14

"Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks." John 4:23

Did I mention that the convention center holds 8,800? Beth told us that this was the first sell-out for a Living Proof event AND that the convention center hadn't seen the likes of a crowd our size since Elton John came to town in the 90's. (Even then, he himself didn't have a sell-out!)

"Let the assembled peoples gather around you.
Rule over them from on high" Psalm 7:7

The worship time was amazing. The Lord showed up in a powerful way and I can honestly say that His presence was literally overwhelming!

Worship the LORD with gladness; come before him with joyful songs. Psalm 100:2

It was a joyful time, indeed!

Crazy Is As Crazy Does

2009-10-31T04:56:00.000-07:00

About a year ago, when we gathered at my mother-in-law's house for Thanksgiving, Gregg was talking about the most recent Nebraska game that we'd attended that season. In mid-sentence, one of his cousins interrupted him and said "you went to that game?" When Gregg answered in the affirmative, his cousin continued on.

"You drove all the way to Nebraska?" he asked. "For a football game?"

Gregg looked at him like he'd lost his marbles.

"Yes," he replied. "Yeah . . . it's only 8 hours."

His cousin continued. "Let me get this straight . . . you leave on a Friday morning . . . you D-R-I-V-E all that way, go to the game the next day and drive all that way back on Sunday?" he asked, shaking his head. He muttered, "I wouldn't even do that for Purdue" (which happens to be his alma mater).

I waited for my husband's response.

"Then you," he sniffed, "are not a true fan."

I stifled my laughter. It wasn't the first time we've been called crazy for driving 16 hours within the span of 48 hours for the Huskers. A lot of people don't "get it" and think that we're crazy-truly crazy. The funny thing is that there are a lot more people out there who are even crazier than us.

So, we went crazy again last weekend . . . Friday morning out, Sunday afternoon in. Midway into the eight hours, we started noticing a problem with one of the tires on the car. Undeterred, we got back into the car, drove a little slower than normal and discussed our game plan. As Gregg drove, I got the laptop out and researched tire businesses located in Omaha. As only the dear Lord could do, a quick search of "get-you-in-and-out-quickly" types of places revealed a location right across the street from Husker Hounds. Want to buy a shower curtain or use grilling tools emblazoned with the Husker logo? Husker Hounds is your place! Want to kill some time while waiting for tire service? Husker Hounds is your place! I'm pretty convinced that as I yelled out a "woooooohoooooooooo" of glee, I heard Him laughing at me.

I hate to brag, but I'm pretty sure that our conversation with the nice man at the tire place led to a nice discount for the service portion of the bill. When we gave him our address and it quite obviously revealed that we were out-of-towners, he motioned toward the red attire we were both wearing and asked if we were fans. (ahem) "Yes sir, we most definitely are fans AND we drove all this way to attend the game tomorrow."

He high-fived us both and I'm happy to report that we were on our way again within 45 minutes of our new tire purchase. (clapping hands)

Game day arrived and we headed to Lincoln-confident of a Husker win. Sadly, things didn't turn out that way and by the end of the game, fans were quiet. That's never a good thing-especially in a stadium that seats 80,000+. Nebraska lost to Iowa State (7-6) and actually had more turnovers than points. Ugh! But, we remain faithful. True fans take the good and the bad with the ugly. That much was ingrained into my upbringing by D.K. Meyer himself (aka Poppop) and I went a step further and congratulated a young Iowa State fan as we headed back to our car. He gave me a thumb's up, after which Gregg tried to convince me I'd traumatized him by approaching him with congratulations. I'd like to think otherwise. Hopefully someday he'll remember that encounter and that at least one Nebraska fan in his path played nice and was a good sport in light of the defeat that day.

On a brighter note, I have one more autograph on my Husker jersey. Pre-game, Gregg and I visited the Nebraska bookstore, where former Husker player Zach Potter was signing autographs. I was reminded again of just how big some of these guys are. Wow!

And while I'd like to think I'm not superstitious, I have to say that I'm still a little "wigged-out" by the new culmination of Nebraska's famous "tunnel walk." Rather than tear out onto the field in a full-out run from the tunnel, they now w-a-l-k four across, linking arms. It was too low-energy for my liking. I'd like to see them eat raw meat or something as they attack the field but that's just me and for some reason, none of the coaching staff saw fit to consult me about this new phenomenon. (shrugging)

Sunday found us driving home-still shaking our heads in disbelief. Crazy. 7-6, 8 turnovers. Just crazy. Onward and upward.

Cassidy celebrated spirit week at her school. Wednesday was "Crazy Hair Day." I think she hit the mark pretty well. Even funnier is that the once-orange hair spray had turned nearly hot pink by day's end.

And have I mentioned Thing 2 and preschool lately? They're doing SCIENCE!! Seriously. I don't think I did science until I was 12. Last week she greeted me with "Mommy! Today we learned that magnets attract iron, metal and steel AND it even works through a glass of water!" I looked at her in amazement.

"Do you know what steel is?" I asked.

"Nope," she replied.

Science. In preschool. Now THAT's crazy. But fun too-just look at what they did yesterday during the Halloween party . . .

Gigantic bubbles result from building up pressure with a mixture of dry ice, warm water and soap. Pop them and you get smoke. Cool stuff. I want to go back to preschool.

And last on my blog update is Halloween . . . below is Hermione and her little cat Crookshanks.

And here's a look at Trio-Times-Three of Alaina (as Word girl), Chloe (as Captain Huggyface) and Mackenzie.

They're cute AND crazy . . . about each other!

Happy Fall, Happy Harvest, Happy Halloween and everything in between!

And as always, Go Big Red!

Catching Up

2009-10-18T17:52:00.001-07:00

It's been a busy few weeks in our corner of the world . . .

We've been celebrating the grand opening of our new addition at church,

enjoying football season (in spite of the Texas Tech game),

praising God that we didn't need a new transmission for Gregg's 4Runner after all,

taking field trips with Mackenzie's preschool classmates,

discovering that nearly ALL the winter clothing that fit the girls last year does not fit this year,

getting Halloween costumes ready,

cheering on Cassidy for her winning entry in a t-shirt design contest,

keeping Walgreens and our doctor busy and in business for another month,

and enjoying the last of the roses . . . at least until next summer.

Perhaps life will slow down a bit . . .

until I suddenly realize that there are only 66 days until Christmas.

Seriously.

Who Wants a Freebie???

2009-10-06T10:35:00.001-07:00

This post has been relocated to the following page:

http://awordfromkari.blogspot.com

From the Mouths of Babes

2009-09-25T05:13:00.000-07:00

Me: (moaning and holding head in hands)

Mackenzie: "Mommy, what's wrong?"

Me: (more moaning) "I have a bad headache."

Mackenzie: (stricken look on face) "Is it from me?"

Never Say Never

2009-09-20T13:21:00.000-07:00

I love football.

Let me clarify. I love college football. Professional football is fine too. In fact, as I write this, I'm watching the Chicago Bears play-mainly because former Husker Zach Bowman is starting today. but give me a college game and my Nebraska Cornhuskers and I'm a happy girl.

While growing up in Omaha, Nebraska, I thought that certain members of my family were a little uhm . . . over the top when it came to "the ways of the Husker fan." Don't get me wrong. I was a fan back then too, but the passion I observed in others was lost on me. At times it even seemed a little (dare I say?) silly.

Case in point: on football Saturdays, if it was an away game and my grandparents weren't among the throngs of red people trekking to another state, we would sometimes go to their house to watch the game all together-provided, of course, it was televised.

There was NO missing any part of the game if we were at Nanny and Poppop's house. There were at least 4 televisions all tuned into the game and at least one radio. You could be in nearly any part of their house and be tuned in. When the action proved to be too much for someone to handle and pacing was necessary to withstand the agony (usually Nanny), the anguished individual (Nanny) was encouraged to get out of the current room and go to a different television. If people (Nanny) wanted to speak at an inopportune moment, they were given a finger . . . pointing straight in the direction of a different room with a different tv. Television screen too small for comfortable viewing? No problem. A quick nudge in the direction of another tv location took care of it. By the end of a game, family togetherness was laughable. And if you were a kid who wanted to talk or make any noise (like breathing) during a game, forget it.

As a kid, I knew I'd never get like that when I grew up and became an adult Husker fan.

So yesterday, my mom called me. We had about 1 1/2 hours 'til kickoff.

"Hi Honey! Do you want to come over for the game? We're not televised, but we could at least listen together."

Me: "Uhm . . . Gregg said it might be available online at ESPN360. I don't know . . . "

Mom: (excited) "Oh wow! So we could actually watch it together?"

Me: (hesitantly) "You don't have wireless do you?"

Mom: (confused) "I don't think so . . . why?"

Me: "I don't want to have to share the screen . . . if I could bring my own computer and watch it, we could each have our own screen. Hey, I'll call Papa and see if maybe there's a way we could make this work."

When I hung up, I chided myself. I've become what I swore I wouldn't. I was turning down an invitation to my parents' house all in the name of not wanting to share a monitor. Duh. Oh well. No time to dwell on the issue. I had to call Papa Dean.

Sadly, the phone call resulted in no luck. No wireless. No splitter. Nada. I was relegated to watching the game solo (if it didn't fall victim to a blackout) or having to huddle with another person in front of the screen. Hmmm. Decisions.

You'll be glad to know that I chose the family togetherness option. And ESPN360 didnt fail me! The Huskers were not only audible but visible as well AND I never had to nudge anyone out of my way. Of course, I perhaps failed to mention that Gregg and Dean were both working-leaving only two of us to compete for viewing comfort yesterday.

If it weren't for the shushing and show of "not right now" in the form of my hand waving away the likes of Thing 1 when she appeared in the middle of some nail-biting action, I have to say that I did ok yesterday. I shared. I played nice. So did my mom.

Nanny would have been proud. Mind you, she would have been in a different room, BUT she would've been proud. :-)

Extreme Room Makeover

2009-09-12T13:10:00.000-07:00

For anyone who checks the blog regularly (all two of you), you may have noticed a lack of attention to it lately. Call it paint fumes, frustration with the wallpaper steamer or overuse of Downy Fabric Softener (which, by the way, does NOT come out of throw rugs if you happen to spill it by mistake). Or . . . you can call it:

Extreme Room Makeover 2009-the Cassidy Edition.

After a lot of talking about the possibility of doing a new color on Cassidy's walls and giving her a loft bed, Gregg and I made good on our promise to "someday" do something different in her room and so below is our "BEFORE" photo . . .

followed by the "AFTER" photos . . .

Having chosen a new brown and pink striped comforter last fall (yep-that would be twelve months ago for those of you doing the math at home), she chose to have one wall painted brown with the remaining walls painted pink. Pepto Bismol Pink. (Actually, I think it's cute.)

Gregg, bless his heart, built her a long awaited loft bed. It's been wonderful to give her some extra floor space with the newly opened up area underneath her bed for her desk and beanbag chair. The board against the wall is the new spot for tacking up all those things that kids love to TAPE to their walls.

All in all, the whole project took about a week. In all honesty, a good portion of that week was about cleaning, purging and sorting through all sorts of treasures in her room prior to Operation Demolition. It's nothing short of amazing to experience the difference of opinion as to the definition of "keepsake" and also how many items really can fit under a bed.

I need to give a huge thanks to the folks at MyBlogSpark for helping out with this makeover. While I would have loved it if one of them had shown up at my front door with a paint brush and drop cloth and insisted on painting, I still GREATLY appreciated the arrival of a brand new Swiffer Wet Jet just in time for some extra thorough cleaning in the midst of our project. Initially I had some doubts about the whole cleaning system, but I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised at how well it did on our wood floors. I was even more excited to find out that the multi-purpose cleaner also comes in some other fragrances like Open Window Fresh and Febreze Lavendar & Vanilla Comfort. (And frankly, for anyone else out there with a 10 year-old daughter, we could all use a little comfort after sorting through collections of broken necklaces, mismatched earrings, dried-up nail polish and bottles of body glitter.)

So, from me to you, the Swiffer Wet Jet gets a "two thumbs up." So does the feeling of satisfaction at being done with this project.

Now, will someone please make Mackenzie stop asking "when are you going to do my room??"

After all . . . I need to find her a new comforter first. ;-)

Happy Anniversary To My Hubby!

2009-09-04T13:11:00.000-07:00

16 years of marriage . . .
2 beautiful daughters . . .
artwork presented to us in honor of our special day . . .
Life is good!!!

2009-08-27T17:45:00.000-07:00

This post has been relocated to the following page:

http://awordfromkari.blogspot.com

Happy Birthday Mackenzie!

2009-08-24T19:51:00.000-07:00

My baby turned 5 years old today.

I'm not quite sure how this happened. Surely it was just a few days ago that I held her in my arms as I got acquainted with her as a newborn baby. Somehow . . . 5 years have flown right on by us in the blink of an eye.

We celebrated in grand style this weekend. Just as we did with her older sister, we welcomed age 5 in with a tea party-complete with china cups and saucers, little treats, beautiful cakes, pretty girls in twirly dresses and Gregg reprising his role as the crazy butler!

No tea party would be complete without a manicure for the
big event . . .

. . . special moments with Daddy, Nanna and Grandma . . .

. . . giggling at that silly butler . . .

and singing and dancing with cousins.

Even Ozzie came to help celebrate the special day!

And the best part of all?

Sharing special days like this with family . . .

It just doesn't get much better than that!

Remembering Sadie . . .

2009-08-20T04:56:00.000-07:00

She's been with us longer than The Things. Sadie came into our lives and our hearts twelve years ago this month. As the Lord would have it, she literally ran into our lives one day.

I was at work-downtown on a summer day. Our front door was propped open and customers leisurely wandered in and out of the store. Suddenly, this thin mutt ran in through the door. My boss was a dog owner herself and quickly grabbed a leash from the back office. She set out with the mutt and walked her all over downtown-in hopes that she could reunite the dog with her owner. Long story short, no owner showed up or ever claimed her. We did everything-ran ads in the paper, called the shelter, called the animal hospitals and pet stores in the area. No one ever claimed her.

In the meantime, she and I vehemently agreed that this dog should not go to the shelter during the process of searching for her owner. Instead, I offered to keep her with us-we had an enclosed porch at the time. She could stay on the porch and be safe until she was claimed.

Three weeks later, my boss asked me what we were going to do about this dog.

I guess, as "they" say . . . the rest is history.

Upon adopting her, we took her to the vet, learned that she was somewhere between 1-3 years of age and other than being thin, was relatively healthy. What we later discovered, however, was that this dog had some obvious signs of abuse from whoever had her before that summer day. We began the "deprogramming" process with her-teaching her that anything with a long handle didn't have to result in cowering, hairbrushes weren't weapons and that men weren't out to hurt her. I could only imagine what this dog might have experienced before she came to live with us.

We named her Sadie and became a family of three. A couple of years later, Sadie got her first younger sibling in the form of a small human.

As Cassidy navigated her way through crawling, pulling herself up and walking, Sadie endured days, weeks and months of fur pulling, tail grabbing and falling (from Cassidy) on top of her in the midst of peaceful naps. Just when the young human being had finally turned somewhat "civilized," another small human creature arrived and Sadie patiently endured more years of uncivilized behavior from the newest Thing in the house.

This dog put up with being dressed up in silly costumes, being held captive in bedrooms for pretend camp-outs and tea parties and attempts at ballroom dancing as the girls stood her on hind legs.

She learned how to play hide and seek, that the sight of her dog food in a plastic bag meant she was going to "camp" (Grandma and Grandpa's house for vacation), a blanket taken out to the car signaled being invited to take a ride, and that the appearance of young children at our table usually meant a special snack if she'd hang out underneath.

She loved a heavy snowfall, the sight of Gregg coming home after work or the girls after school and having friends or family arrive at our door. She hated storms, the 4th of July, getting her paws wet or muddy and having to endure paw washings for those muddy days. She "smiled" when life was good and huddle close if there were tears. Every dog owner says that their dog is the best, and I am no different. Sadie was the perfect dog for our family.

Yesterday, Gregg and I had the tough task of releasing our beloved Sadie from this side of Earth. As we huddled over her, the doctor asked us to tell him of our favorite memory with Sadie. We looked at each other and had no words. Finally, Gregg answered with "where do we even begin?" The doctor smiled. "I know what you mean," he said.

We will miss you, sweet Sadie. We thank you for an incredible twelve years of unconditional love! You may be gone from our home, but never from our hearts. We love you!

And She's Off . . .

2009-08-19T04:56:00.000-07:00

Around this time of year just five short years ago, I sat in a hospital room-holding a newborn Mackenzie while tears streamed down my face.

Chalk it up to post-partum hormones and the fact that I was missing my other baby and her first day of kindergarten . . . such a huge milestone to miss.

And here we are today-sending Cassidy off to her final year in elementary school. In just a few short weeks, Mackenzie begins her last year of preschool.

Today, I'm feeling the tears again.

My babies are growing up.

But it's all good. Just as it should be.

The Names of God

2009-08-15T12:36:00.000-07:00

I don't think I know one person who doesn't love to get a "mystery package" in the mail.

This past week, I was lucky enough to receive one. My dear friend Jody sent me the book shown in the above photo. I smiled as soon as I pulled it out of the package. Just a few days earlier, she had listened to me excitedly share a story with her. The experience that I told her about was what I like to call a "God Moment" when He shows up in an incredible way-especially in times when it's least expected.

Case in point: nearly two weeks ago, he provided the means for a need before I ever had a moment to blink and wonder how I was going to "make it happen." Done. He had my back all along. It was a very cool realization-to say the least.

Jody and I had talked about how God had revealed himself to me that day as Yahweh Yireh, the one who provides for a need before the situation for that need ever reveals itself. As I read the entry in the book describing this particular name of God, I shivered. The key scripture in this particular entry described the scene with Abraham and Isaac at Moriah. This story also happens to be the key piece of scripture upon which our church's expansion project is based. Silly as it may sound, I was suddenly awestruck. The same God who provided for Abraham provided for my situation that afternoon as well. This blows my mind! Seriously! It's not like He hasn't shown up this way for me in past situations, but this time around it just seemed especially incredible to me.

So today . . . I'm curious. Tell me about a time in your life when Yahweh Yireh showed up and blew you away? I love a cool "God Moment!" Share!!!!

Fam Jam

2009-08-08T05:33:00.000-07:00

For the past few years, our church has replaced traditional VBS with a new-and-improved VBS called "Fam Jam." Instead of dropping your children off for a week of VBS, this event has the entire family experiencing a VBS-like event. This year was no exception and so last Sunday night, we dove in to "Jam with the Fam" for several nights running.

This year, we were invited to be a part of the team to lead worship each night. Mind you, because it's a family event, it's entire families that make up that worship team. The only minor hitch in this plan is that the head of our family wasn't able to make either of the two rehearsals to learn words and motions to the songs. I offered to catch our fearless (or is it "fearful"?) leader up to speed, to which he answered,

"Nah. I'll be fine."

For those of you who know Gregg, he was in rare form last week. If you don't know my husband, suffice to say he lived up to his high school elected title of "class clown." Unfortunately, the more people who stopped him throughout the week to tell him how funny he was, the more he hammed it up. It's no wonder that Mackenzie is the way she is sometimes. As my father-in-law always said, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
We had a great week, though. My nieces Alaina and Chloe were up here with us and we had good time sharing Fam Jam with them as well.

A new element added to Fam Jam this year was a service project. As we discussed the importance of serving others during the week, we were asked to donate school supplies to fill 100 backpacks that someone had donated to our church. One evening was spent filling them in an assembly line-like fashion, then we wrote notes to the children who would be receiving these backpacks. They will be distributed to shelters here in our town who will pass them along to kids for back-to-school.

Our church just recently went through an expansion project, so when we walked into the gym one night, I could only imagine where they came up the mountain of broken-down cardboard boxes that greeted us in the center of the floor. We were given the count of "ready-set-go" and we dove into the pile to claim pieces to build a house in 10 minutes.

We girls fit inside the house nicely, but Gregg (just to the left of us) was still holding duct tape in his hand-trying how to make it more structurally sound. As much fun as it was, it was more than a little sobering to later discuss the reality that for some people, a shelter like ours shown above IS their only means of a house. We are so blessed.

And of course, what is Fam Jam without food? The week concluded with a picnic out in the parking lot. Afterwards, the girls had fun on several inflatables.

All in all, it was a great week. Good friends, lots of fun, great food and of course,

GREAT laughs!

Loony Is As Loony Does

2009-08-02T12:15:00.000-07:00

For a number of months now, Gregg has been training for a Half-Ironman race. I, on the other hand, have been training for the role of "support team" for my dear husband and after witnessing my first Half-Ironman race this past weekend, I have a step-by-step guide for race participants.

Step 1: Decide that you're just a bit loony enough to think that doing a "monster triathlon" seems like a great idea. Sign up for this race way in advance because thousands of other loony people will do the same thing and heaven knows . . . if you don't get your registration entered in time, you will be disappointed 'cause you're loony enough to want to do this in the first place.

Step 2. Go swim. Practice swimming a lot. Practice swimming about 1.2 miles worth 'cause that's what you're gonna do when you go do this Half-Ironman. For extra assistance, buy yourself a wet suit because (SURPRISE!) you're going to do this in a lake and NOT a warm chlorinated swimming pool. You might get some strange looks when you head for the beach when it's over 100 degrees and all the other people swimming are wearing these things called swim suits, but it won't matter 'cause you're a bit loony anyway and don't care.

Step 3. Ride your bike. Practice riding your bike a lot. Practice riding about 56.33 miles worth 'cause that's what you're gonna do when you go do this Half-Ironman. For heaven's sake, make sure you buy yourself some padded shorts too, because your tushy will be sore. REALLY sore!

Step 4. Go run. Practice running a lot. Practice running about 13.1 miles worth 'cause that's what you're gonna do when go do this Half-Ironman. Running in flip-flops is definitely out and as comfy as Crocs are, I don't advise that you wear these either. (Just my own personal observation-I wouldn't know this from experience.)

Step 5. Do steps 2,3, and 4 repeatedly for several months straight . . . rain or shine . . . weekday or weekend and even on holidays. You're in training!!!! This is no time to be a wimp!

Step 6. The night before your race, pack a bag. Because you can benefit from my newly acquired knowledge as a spectator, I can tell you that your bag probably shouldn't be packed with a six-pack of coke and box of twinkies. Nor should you bring an iPod or cell phone to carry on you during the race. Instead, fill your bag full of little foil packets of flavored gel and lots of water bottles. By the way, there is no need to buy water bottles. If you are already this loony to think you want to do one of these races, chances are good that you've done a few others leading up to this and already have nice little collection of water bottles in your possession. Lastly, strongly consider wearing a color that will really stand out for your fan club. If you are a male race participant, I highly suggest hot pink. I didn't see ONE hot pink triathlete suit whatsoever yesterday . . . even on the female race participants.

Step 7. Don't forget to pack ibuprofin. You will need it after the race. (So will anyone else who comes to cheer you on!)

Step 8. Race Eve: Go to sleep. Make sure you hit the hay fairly early . . . like around 3:30 pm prior to race day because here's the thing: not every city hosts a Half-Ironman, (Go figure?) and therefore your cities to choose from will be few and far between. You will probably have to travel. If you are within two hours of your race destination and don't feel the need to rent a hotel room, good luck with that. Between finding a parking space, unloading your gear, setting up your gear and walking to the site of the swim portion, you may very well have to leave your warm comfy bed no later than 3 am prior to the start of the race. Keep in mind that again, this probably won't matter to you because you're already a bit loony and don't care.

Step 9. Ready, set, GO!!! Swim! Bike! Run! Beware of spectators along the way banging on pots and pans and telling you that the finish line is just around the corner. They are lying to you to just make you feel better and push through the pain that you may be experiencing. In their defense, they are working through their own pain of standing in one place for 2 1/2 hours straight with their finger on the button of their camera waiting for a glimpse of their loved one that they came to cheer on. Not only that, but they may have caved to the insane desire to pay $5 for a slice of pizza when they know darn well that they could have bought an entire pizza back home for that same $5. At this point in time, the specators are just as loony as those in the race!

Step 10. DO bring your cell phone. (Just don't carry it with you.) You will need this for after the race in order to connect with your fan club standing 2 miles away, who might still waiting for a glimpse of you to get that precious shot of you approaching the finish line.

Step 11. Upon reaching your fan club by cell phone, hold the phone away from your ear a pretty good distance. This is necessary to protect your ear drums that will be subjected to an audible expression of disappointment from your fan club in the realization that you already crossed the finish line and not a single photo was taken of you to document the culmination of all those months of training, wet suit purchases and lack of sleep in the last 24 hours.

Step 12. Take some of that ibuprofin that you brought along. For an extra measure of kindness, offer some to your fan club.

Step 13. This is for race participants AND fan clubs: Do NOT, under any circumstance, discuss "next year's Half-Ironman." It will simply be too painful for all parties involved.

Thanks for reading. I hope this was a help to my readers today, in spite of the lengthiness of this post. It would have been a little shorter if I'd had some photos to share from this weekend's race but alas, not one stinkin' photo.

But then, you probably already figured that, didn't you?

I See a Future in Hosting a Late Night Talk Show

2009-07-28T21:24:00.001-07:00

During breakfast this morning, the following conversation took place:

Mackenzie: "Mom, how old are you?"

Me: "Old"

Mackenzie: "You're 40. Right?"

Me: "Uhm . . . maybe."

Pause

Mackenzie: (smirking) "I'll take that as a 'yes.'"

Well Hello, Dolly!

2009-07-19T12:56:00.000-07:00

When I was growing up, I did plenty of "normal" stuff. Normal, by most people's standards, was Girl Scouts, dance lessons, piano lessons, church choir and vacation Bible school.

But there was another part of my life . . . a part that made up a large part of my childhood and one that I wouldn't have traded for the world.

You see, I grew up in a dance studio-almost literally, as for quite some time, my mom's studio was located in the basement of our home.

I also did a lot of growing up in theatres . . . community theatre mostly and I have great memories of those days.

It was a family thing actually. My mom went straight to New York City out of high school, pursuing her dream of dance. Her parents, mainly her father, made her promise to spend a certain allotment of time taking classes before working-that this was to be her "college" and that she needed to focus on studying rather than performing.

The Lord had other plans and in the midst of that time that she was studying dance, voice and acting, on a lark she went to an audition. She said it then and continues to say it now-that she never went with the intention of getting the job, but rather to meet Gower Champion . . . famed choreographer and in her eyes, an idol.

As she continued to make cuts down to smaller and smaller groups of dancers, she found herself in the final group, hearing words of congratulations from Mr. Gower Champion himself-who ironically hadn't even been at that first audition she went to in hopes of meeting him. But there she stood . . . face to face with the legend and now one of his dancers in his latest Broadway Show, "Hello Dolly," starring Carol Channing.

Quite a number of years followed those days of performing with Carol Channing, when my mom sat with me and my sister in the Orpheum Theatre in Omaha, Nebraska waiting for the lights to dim and the overture to begin. We were waiting to see Ms. Channing in a revival performance of "Dolly." After the show, we made our way backstage. The original stage manager was still there and whisked us off to Carol's dressing room right away. When her door opened and my mom walked into the room, my mouth dropped open. Carol recognized her immediately and called her by name-looking back and forth between her and then to me and my younger sister. "You have babies!" she chortled! "You have babies!"

It was a surreal moment, to say the least. I won't ever forget it.

But back to the days of growing up with theatre in my life . . . while other kids were watching television after school, sometimes we were on television. My younger sister Happi, in particular, did a lot of theatre and modeling as a child and it wasn't uncommon to see her smiling self on the evening news during a feature piece on the latest theatre offering in Omaha or to open up the newspaper and see her in advertisments. As a gradeschooler, she was cast as "Annie" in a nearly year-long run of the show at a dinner theatre downtown. A few years later as she grew out of the little red dress, she was costumed in another red dress . . . as Dolly Levi in a children's production of "Hello Dolly." With my mom's ties to the show, it made for a great family affair as she choreographed the musical and us three sisters, Happi and Darci and I, got to share the "Dolly" experience on stage together with her.

Fast forward to today. Happi is all grown up. She is married to my sweet brother-in-law Jerry and is the mom of two rock stars, Cody and Caden. (Understand that "rock star" is the term we use in our house for anyone that our girls seem to be enamored with and those two boys are definite rock stars in their world!) As I sat at the computer one afternoon a couple of months ago, my mouth dropped open when I learned that Happi (on a lark-does THAT sound familiar?) had auditioned with Jerry for a local community theatre production of "Dolly" and was cast in the lead role. I didn't even know she'd gone to an audition so my shock was fully making up for the fact that I got ahold of this news through Facebook. (No worries sissy . . . I've forgiven you for not calling me and telling me personally!) ;-)

Jerry got to join Happi on the stage for this production and last night we sat and watched Happi transform into Dolly Levi once again. I would be lying if I said it wasn't an emotional evening. To make it even sweeter, my mom had been invited to recreate the actual "Hello Dolly" number along with another piece in the show. As we watched the waiters reenact their reunion with Dolly at the Harmonia Gardens, my mom and I had silent tears rolling down our faces . . . so many memories . . . faces from other "Dolly" casts no longer with us and memories of a bittersweet time in our life in Omaha. I can't even put it into words all the emotions we experienced last night, but most of all, it was fantastic to see my sister back on a theatre stage again. In a word, she was simply AWESOME!

"Hello Dolly . . . it's so nice to have you back where you belong." I am so proud of you and Jerry and am fiercely proud to be your sister, whether you are on or off stage. Blessed I am and also so thankful that you were able to bring Dolly to life for us once again. Have a great rest of the run and enjoy every minute! I love you!

Love,
Kari

The ABC's of Summer

2009-07-11T21:12:00.000-07:00

A is for ABUNDANCE of raspberries at Nanna and Papa Dean's house

B is for BEACH!

C is for COUSINS

D is for DRIVE IN

E is for ELEPHANT EARS (Coming soon to a fair near you)

F is for FRIENDS (and sisters too!)

G is for GARDEN

H is for HOT

I is for ICE CREAM

J is for JAM MAKING

K is for KIDS

L is for LOLLIPOPS

M is for MINIATURE GOLF

N is for NEW . . . as in the new worship center at our church that we moved into this week!

O is for OPPORTUNITY for kicking back with a good book.

P is for PAYBACKS (never give Mackenzie a shovel, her sister, and a beach full of sand).

Q is for QUIET moments

R is for READING PROGRAM at our library

S is for SUNSHINE

T is for TRAINING and TRIATHLONS (Gregg finished the city triathlon today in 1:11 . . . I'm so proud of him!)

U is for "UP" . . . my new favorite movie!
V is for VACATION from the norm.
W is for WATER BABIES
X is for XXXOOO summer!
Y is for YARD WORK
Z is for ZZZZzzzzz later in the mornings!

Happy Birthday, Gregg!

2009-07-02T05:09:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, when I was dating a certain young man, I not only knew that he would make a great husband but that he would also be a terrific dad.

A few years later, I learned that my hunch was correct. Gregg turned out to be a great husband indeed and a terrific dad twice over.

I won't ever forget the day that our first daughter, Cassidy, was born. Once we had a few moments alone several hours after her birth, Gregg urged me to get some rest. I rolled over on my tummy (ah, heaven), closed my eyes and popped them open 30 seconds later to stare at the new small person laying in the bassinet next to my bed. Gregg's eyes met mine and he again, urged me to sleep.

Sleep never did come that afternoon. I tried, but I just couldn't take my eyes off the sight of that miracle laying beside me. The funny thing was, neither could Gregg and as I peeked at him several times while I was "sleeping," I fell in love with him all over again. He was completely smitten with that tiny baby who had just come into our world.

One more child and several years later, Gregg is still the dad that I anticipated he would turn out to be. He is a kid at heart himself, but brings a mix of that famous Bill Cosby line "I brought you into this world and I'll take you out" when necessary. He can name all the Disney princesses without hesitation and makes certain to note his appreciation of "twirly" dresses and accessories to match when the girls are all dressed up.

More recently, Gregg received some bonus points in the area of "cool dad." At an overnight reading event at Cassidy's school, staff and several parents portrayed famous characters from books. At the invitation of Cassidy's teacher, Gregg portrayed Harry Potter that evening.

It wasn't necessarily the fact that he was willing to act the part, but more that he literally went to new heights with his character . . .

and sailed into the festivities on a zip line that he and another father had rigged up in the gym.

Later that night, Cassidy said that it was "so cooooooool" and several of her friends agreed. In her school now, Gregg is known as Harry Potter.

I'm so glad I married this man. I couldn't ask for a better guy to share my life with and this journey called "parenthood."

So today, I'm wishing him the happiest birthday ever!

Happy Birthday, Gregg! You are the best and I love you dearly! Have a fantastic day!

A Surprise Like No Other!

2009-06-25T05:22:00.000-07:00

I love a good surprise.

Last week, with the help of my friend Jody, we pulled off a fantastic surprise for our kids. I'm still in shock over the fact that we did in fact get the job done without ruining it ourselves, but we DID it! Yay! (patting self on the back)

A couple of months ago, Jody told me that she and the kids would be visiting her parents early in the summer. That visit would bring them about half the distance between us and where they currently live. My mind raced-surely there could be a way for a mini-reunion with some planning. When I broached the idea with her, she jumped on board and loved the idea of keeping it a secret from all the kids-hers and mine.

Last Thursday morning, I put bags that I had packed in the middle of the night in the car, pulled pillows out from underneath their heads (seriously!) and added them to the trunk as well. I woke my sleeping children, urged them to hurry and get ready-that I had a surprise for them.

At last we were on the road. The girls were completely stumped as to where we might be going. I was loving it!

Jody and I had agreed ahead of time to meet at a Chik-fil-A just off of our final exit. The girls and I arrived first and having talked to Jody, I knew that they were on their way.

Figuring that with my luck, I'd be in the middle of paying for our lunch while Jody and the kids walked in and miss out on seeing their faces and getting photos. I decided to delay ordering anything and stalled . . . trying to anticipate how excited the girls would be when they saw their friends. I took the girls to the restroom. I perused the menu. I commented on the weather as I continued wandering towards the windows in search of Jody's vehicle. I even asked the girls if they'd like to play in the indoor playground for awhile, to which Cassidy's immediate response was a vehement "NO!" The girls told me that they simply wanted to order food and get back on the road so that they could reach their surprise destination. I panicked. Surely Jody would be here soon.

I feigned a headache . . . wandering around Chik-fil-A with my head in my hands, peeking out every so often to glance at the door. I got up, debating (out loud) whether we should go to the car for ibuprofin or to put something in my stomach first. Finally, I saw the familiar vehicle pull into the lot. I watched our friends get out and I grabbed the girls, telling them I'd decided to go to the car after all. As we all pulled on doors from opposite directions, we met in the entryway. Cassidy and Rachel were the first to realize what was happening, followed by the younger girls. I will never forget it for as long as I live!

BFF's . . . Rachel and Cassidy share a hug!

Mackenzie made sure to show Miss Jody the new gap in her mouth. I didn't realize until seeing this photo, that Jody was snapping a photo of it as well.

Once we got back to Jody's dad's house, the kids started to put up tents for the evening's camp out to take place in the back yard. Rachel's Girl Scout skills were put to the test. (Sadly, the camp out only ended up lasting about an hour or so before the girls traded their tent for beds indoors that night.)

After setting up camp, Jody's dad treated us to a night at the ball game. The local minor league team was playing and we headed for the ballpark. Here, the kids pose for yet another photo for us.

Poor Hannah was so tired by all of the excitement, that she fell asleep-even though it looks like she is awake. It would seem that Mackenzie's young friend is one to sleep with her eyes partially open. What I like best about this photo is the remains of her dinner on her lap. Jody and I were cracking up.

The next day, Jody drove us around her old stomping grounds. As her friend, it was great to be able to put things together in my mind from past references to the house she grew up in to where her grandmother currently lives. She also drove down the famous "Double Dip" in town-two very steep hills that come one right after another. I pity the people who live in that area during wintertime. In a snow storm, there's no driving on the Double Dip. Period.

In usual fashion, our kids started telling us that they were hungry not long after we left the house that morning. We stopped for lunch here . . .

I (heart) you, Sonic!!!

Of course, we always love a good playdate at the park, so we took our food to go and set up a picnic here . . .

had a great time on the playground for a few minutes and finally decided to head back so that we could get on the road to go home.

After getting the car loaded up, we had another round of hugs and headed for home. A great time was had by all!

Gregg and I had been in touch during our lunch and he informed me that we were heading into bad weather. (Oh goody!) He rerouted me, putting me on course to perhaps get home a bit sooner rather than later. With storms ahead, I was grateful for the possibility of getting home a little earlier. We made it 2/3 home before we hit anything too severe. As the sky continued to get darker and the lighting began appearing in the darkness, I turned on the radio. Severe weather was forecast for the area we were currently traveling in, specifically for travelers between mile marker 161 to 199.

We were at marker number 163.

As a quivery voice asked from the backseat "when are getting home, Mommy?" I decided to kill two birds with one stone. Cassidy could bury herself in the map and (hopefully be too distracted to look out the windows) get the hang of it enough to let me know how many more exits until the one that would ultimately lead us home. As the lightning was touching down in the fields next to us, Mackenzie would comment here and there. "Ooh . . . that one was bright!" and "Wow, Mommy . . . it's so close to us!" Yes indeed, it was close. Too close for comfort. We finally made it to mile marker 200 and I sent up another silent prayer.

Finally, after an agonizing wait for a rest area in the midst of traffic being at a standstill due to road construction, ANOTHER re-route home and rain coming down sideways for the last 20 miles of our trip, we made it to our back door. The girls were exhausted, as was I. Gregg and I tucked them into bed after which I wandered into the den and burst into tears from the sheer relief of getting home safely. Praise the Lord.

In spite of all the detours, delays, and bad weather, it was great to see these faces all together again!

Thank you Lord, for safe travel and for good friends. Amen!

Another First . . . Come and Gone

2009-06-16T20:19:00.000-07:00

It happened.

Another milestone.

Have I mentioned how much I have a love/hate relationship with these moments in the lives of Thing 1 and Thing 2? I love 'em because these monumental events keep life exciting, new and usually bring about big smiles from the girls. I hate 'em because they serve to remind me that yet another "first" has come and gone.

And although I knew this moment was just around the corner, it still took me by surprise.

Mackenzie was beyond excited. It was a big day for my "baby."

Welcome to our home, tooth fairy. We've been waiting for you!

P.S. At 6:15 this morning, I bumped into a very sleepy Mackenzie wandering out of her bedroom. She was holding her tooth fairy pillow, but looking quite glum. Here is how our conversation went:

Me: (Excitedly) Hi sweetie!!! Did the tooth fairy come????
Mackenzie: (Very subdued) Yeah.
Me: What did she bring you?
Mackenzie: A dollar (No enthusiasm in her voice whatsoever. I'm wondering which of her little friends may have told her that the tooth fairy brought them heaps of cash, candy, their own water park or a trip to Disney World for losing their first tooth.)
Me: What's wrong? You seem sad.
Mackenzie: (silence)
Me: (Getting down to look her in the eye) What's wrong?
Mackenzie: The tooth fairy forgot to bring my new tooth for me and now I don't have any tooth for that spot anymore.

A Few Reasons To Love the Start of Summer . . .

2009-06-07T05:10:00.001-07:00

The strawberries this year ROCK!! I nearly ate an entire pint yesterday by myself. And don't EVEN get me started on how they taste when you turn them into jam . . .

Here, Nanna gives a few pointers to Thing 2. Gotta love an afternoon at Nanna and Papa Dean's house!

Notice how Cassidy looks excited and ready for action. (kidding) I'm thinking that Mackenzie needs a few tips on how to pitch the ball.

I love the yearly reappearance of the roses on the bushes that once lived in Poppop's yard. Every time I look at the "D.K. Meyer" sign that once hung outside of his home, I wonder if he's shaking his head-thinking how crazy we were to dig the bushes up in the first place.

I'm so glad that we did.

Some days, it's a good reminder of the blessings that come with new seasons in life.

Today's Blog Post Features a Guest Writer . . . Brought To You By Cassidy!

2009-06-04T06:01:00.000-07:00

Hey!!!!! Yeah it is true!!!! I am writing today because it's already the last day of school. I just can not believe how shocked I am about this. The reason also is because my teacher this year was like an uncle to me. He is just a fun guy. His name to me is Mr.K or Mr.Karas. As you can see in the picture, it looks like he is yelling at me into his favorite toy- the bullhorn. Of course he would never do that. Now that I am done with 4th grade (almost, 3 more hours) I will be at the top of the school. That will be a hard job. I know that I will probably be fine. Well some of the awesome stuff that we did this year was Camp Tecumseh, Friday Night Live (Sorry you missed it Rachel) and much more. Oh well, I guess I am done. Bye!!!!

Broken Eggs, Hula Hoops and Elephants . . . It All Starts With a Dream

2009-06-01T21:09:00.001-07:00

Now that the raccoons are safely back in the Disney movies, I feel so alive . . . able to enjoy life again-without the worries of rabies-infested monsters dropping out of the ceiling.

Life is good.

So, it was with great excitement and a renewed energy that I sent Cassidy off to school last week and wished her luck in "The Great Egg Drop" event for science class.

Ah, I can sense a future in physics . . .

Or not.

Thankfully, she is keeping an open mind to her future career plans. Nanna treated us to a night at the circus last week and Thing 1 even mentioned an interest in joining the circus. I smiled as she bubbled with enthusiasm-wondering what it would be like to be a circus person, all while I sat and watched the female ringmaster put a coat on over her costume at intermission and sell pictures of people holding a snake.

Following our night under the Big Top, Cassidy went off to school to participate in "Field Day." I volunteered to help out and caught some photos of Thing 1.

As she attempted to keep several hula hoops going at once, I flashed back to the memory of the previous evening's circus and the hula-hooping girl who looked like a human version of a slinky. If Thing 1 plans on joining the circus, she's got her work cut out for her.

Designing cushioned contraptions for fragile eggs and taking part in stuff like scuba relay and the over-under-wet-sponge game deserves a break, so we took the Things to the drive-in movie theater on Friday night. Thing 2 seemed to enjoy the previews the best, begging Gregg to honk the horn along to "The Beep Beep Song" and then laughing hysterically at the ad persuading the movie-going audience to purchase mosquito repellant contraptions.

In beween outings during the weekend, Mackenzie spent some time in her bedroom. It would seem that our youngest child hasn't found her ideal medium yet . . . that expressing herself through crayon and marker on the stuffed dog, table and chairs in her room, the coffee table in our den or the kitchen table hasn't quite suited her. Therefore, she took to her bedroom walls with a blue crayon. Seriously. Upon discovering it, I expressed myself in a very passionate way and then guided her to the joys of scrubbing walls with a damp rag. Oddly enough, the mere dampness alone isn't doing a whole lot to get the crayon off so it has meant doing A LOT of time in her room. Alone. With a rag. Hmmm . . .

And so, to conclude today's post, I give you a piece of expression from our young Picasso. She has titled her piece, "The Monster."

And I anxiously await the results of my own science experiment called "Mr. Clean's Magic Eraser Meets The Monster."

Stay tuned.

They're A LOT more cute in Disney Cartoons!

2009-05-25T20:09:00.000-07:00

For anyone familiar with this blog, you know that I have some, uh . . . issues with small animals.

First, there was the tale (tail?) of the chipmunk phobia. (For a quick recap, I was bit by one as a young child. Two weeks of daily shots of rabies vaccine straight into the abdomen will make a person steer clear of these seemingly innocent rodents.) Then, there was the squirrel who wouldn't let me out of the studio one evening. For the record, I was alone. Every time I tried to make a break for the exit, it darted in front of me and ran back and forth like a deranged animal gone mad. Seriously.

Imagine my delight in hearing about the latest visitor to the studio. No one was more thrilled than me to hear that a mama raccoon and her offspring had decided to take up residence in the ceiling above the studio.

Oh goody.

It all began with a Sunday evening phone call from my mom. It seemed as though a baby raccoon had fallen through a ceiling tile in a room that is currently being used for storage.

Enter Bob. Bob is a man who "removes nusiance wildlife" for a living. Since our first meeting, we have since realized that Bob IS nusiance wildlife. But, I digress.

Bob came swooping in, grabbed up that baby raccoon by the scruff of its neck and headed out to his truck. And who do you think was there to greet Bob?

Mama raccoon. Mama promptly bit Bob in the leg, which sent the baby flying out of his hands. Mama scooped up her pup (are baby raccoons pups?) and ran off with the baby. Straight underneath the deck of the studio.

Current score is: Bob 0
My parents: 0
Raccoons: 6

Days later, I got a phone call on my cell phone. The connection wasn't good, but I could make out my mom's voice. In between points of static, I heard the words " . . . raccoon . . . garbage can . . . trapped . . . hurry."

Because I love the possibility of meeting with small animals face to face, I hurried to the studio-right after I did my grocery shopping for a month, fixed a turkey for dinner, got the car washed and vacuumed, sat in a mile-long line at Starbuck's for a glass of water and made my New Year's resolutions for 2010. I couldn't wait to get to the studio.

Eventually, I arrived and cautiously opened the door.

"Mom?" I called out.

"In here!" she yelled back. As I wandered into the office that we share, I saw debris all over the desk. My desk. Just off to the side was my mom. Victorious and elated. She had one foot firmly planted alongside a garbage can on its side, open end up against the wall. She pumped her fist victoriously in the air.

"I got him!!!!" she chortled. Apparently, a baby raccoon had fallen through the ceiling tile and my mom was having none of it. Somehow, she got him trapped inside the garbage can. She stood next to that can until Bob arrived to deposit the raccoon into a cage waiting outside.

Score:
Bob: 0
Mom: 1
Raccoons: 5

Her next catch was a few days later. This time, another baby had fallen through a bathroom ceiling tile. Thankfully, the door to the bathroom had been closed when the fall occurred. Imagine her surprise when she'd opened the door to discover the little guy. Or girl. Another call to Bob was made. He arrived to grab the hissing, growling raccoon by the nape of its neck and stuff it in a cage . . . all while it made a nasty mess through the cage all the way out the door. Thing 2 was there for this capture and I wish I'd had a photo of her face. Her eyes were wide with amazement and as soon as the raccoon was out of the building, she started giggling.

"Mommy," she laughed, "it went potty all over the floor!"

Score:
Bob: 0
Mom: 2
Raccoons: 4

One week ago, Nanna and Papa Dean were in the middle of teaching a ballroom class when all of a sudden, two babies came tumbling out of the studio ceiling. Thanks to some quick moving folks, they helped to get the babies cornered and ultimately trapped. After moving them out to the deck, mama raccoon showed up to attempt a rescue. Greed eventually got the best of her and she ended up in a trap that Papa Dean had set for her. Ah, sweet victory!

Bob: 0
Mom, Dad and Ballroom Class: 3
Raccoons: 1

It seemed as though one baby raccoon remained. It also seemed that Papa Dean got him trapped yesterday. Yay!!!! Upon hearing the news, I knew I had to get a photo. This was blogworthy stuff. (Are you even still reading this?) As my big brave strong father reached for the trap (which was set up in the ceiling where it's dark and scary), I could hear growling and major displeasure coming from the animal from above. Nothing good could come of this and I imagined the potential conversation with my mom-should her sweet husband get bit or eaten alive by this wild savage beast-all in the name of helping me get my photo. I hoped she would forgive me if it came to that.

So . . . at long last, I share a photo of the face that only a mother could love.

Mind you, not MY mother! His mother. (Or her mother).

So, here the baby waits outside on the deck for Bob.

Final score: Bob: 0
Mom and Dad: 6
Raccoons: 0

Game over.

Thank You

2009-05-25T05:44:00.000-07:00

I had a prideful moment yesterday at church.

In acknowledging Memorial Day, our executive pastor requested that any man or woman who had served our country to stand and be recognized.

I watched individuals rise to their feet . . . young people, middle-aged and older . . . people with babies that I've rocked in our church nursery to the man operating the video camera in the back of the sanctuary.

And my heart swelled with gratitude. I'm so thankful for them. I'm so thankful for all service men and women all over the world today.

And I'm thankful to live in this country . . . where we can be free because of what these people have sacrificed.

To all those who have or currently serve in our military, thank you. May God bless each and ever single one of you!

Seasons of Change

2009-05-22T20:02:00.000-07:00

What a busy week. Whew. I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

As I was gathering photos for this post, I was struck by the thought that the week has been largely about seasons . . . new seasons in life and old seasons coming to a close. At the same time, we realize that although every season brings change, the one constant is our Father. His faithfulness is unchanging. He IS always with us . . . through every end and every beginning. He IS good all the time and all the time, God is good!

And so, we saw seasons coming to an end . . . Mackenzie finished up with her preschool year last Friday. While she's looking all laid back (no pun intended) in the photo below, what you don't see is the meltdown in the car after leaving school-just 10 minutes after this photo was taken. She cried her eyes out, all while telling me how much she would miss her teachers.

My nieces Alaina and Chloe celebrated the end of another season of dance with the arrival of the recital last weekend. Here, they share a hug with Nanna before we left for the theatre.

MOPS at our church ended for the year. It was a great season and we celebrated the end of this year, but the beginning of a new one with a balloon release for the moms and children. Inside each balloon was information about our start up date in the fall. I'm already excited to start the planning process again!

Cassidy is winding down to the end of another school year. Last night was the annual school picnic-another indicator that summer vacation is just around the corner. She will soon say goodbye to 4th grade and move onto her final year of elementary school. If someone will please tell me where the time has gone, I'd be so grateful!

In the photos below, you'll see Gregg hitting one for the team during the picnic's softball game. The bases were loaded as Gregg and I sauntered over to the ball field. At Mr. K's urging, Gregg stepped in to hit one far enough to bring four kids home. Cassidy was the fourth one to cross home plate. That was a first for our firstborn!

So . . . we celebrate. Seasons come and go. Sometimes we don't want to deal with a new season-as aptly shown by Mackenzie below. But, it's part of life.

And we go on.

And we pray.

And we trust.

Because He will always be faithful through EVERY season!

Graduation Day!

2009-05-13T22:25:00.000-07:00

Mackenzie graduated from her preschool class yesterday. She was all decked out in her dress (thank you, Hannah!), curly hair thanks to sponge rollers and graduation cap. As she got dressed this morning, she tried out the "twirly-ness" of the dress and said to me, "Mommy, I bet all the girls will look pretty today." I readily agreed with her. She then went on to ask, "Mommy . . . how come you don't look pretty today?"

Ah, nothing like the honesty of a child to keep us humble. Amen?

I'm sure she meant to say, "how come you're not wearing a dress with crinoline underneath like me?"

Anyway, speaking of looking pretty, check out these girls below! Have you ever seen such beauty in one room?

Here's one of my favorite photos . . . obviously, the pomp and circumstance was lost on one student in particular. It just so happens to be my child. Of course. (That would be the child to the left of the young man in the red shirt. She's the one bent over in her seat looking at the ground. What the photo doesn't show is the stomping on her diploma she continued to do throughout the ceremony. I'm also hoping she learns to sit like a lady by the time we repeat this during her senior year in high school.

One can only hope.

Suspicious Note

2009-05-12T07:22:00.000-07:00

Mackenzie has this bucket that she takes back and forth to preschool each day. Before leaving yesterday morning, she found the following note in the bucket:

After picking Cassidy up from school later in the day, Mackenzie thanked her and said, "Sissy, you make my heart so happy."

I could melt. So sweet.

So suspicious.

Still, for now I will enjoy it. I just might even frame the note. I will probably refer to this post regularly when they've been out of school after a few days and are bickering, squabbling, and driving me to hide in the nearest closet to perform what I lovingly refer to as a primal scream.

Ah summer . . .

Yep. I'm definitely framing this note.

Happy Mother's Day!

2009-05-10T14:42:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you, but I love going to shop for cards.

This year was no exception as I shopped for the perfect cards to give the mom's in our life. Gregg's mom received one noting her ability to keep her son in one piece, in spite of the numerous trips to the emergency room. It was perfect for her really, as Gregg has a wide assortment of scars from stitches that have long surpassed the 60 mark. God Bless that woman!! I shudder at the thought of raising rambunctious boys.

Finding a card for my own mom was a little more challenging . . . comical or serious . . . Hoops & Yoyo or a singing card . . . so many choices.

Finally I settled on a sentimental card, but I debated.

One card in particular said on the outside "On this Mother's Day, I just want to tell you . . . " (open the card) . . . "I'm not quite done embarrassing you!"

I nearly laughed out loud. You see, I tease my mom a little bit.

Ok. A lot. I tease her a lot. And I continue to embarrass her.

For instance, shortly after my younger sister was born, we took a trip to the doctor for a well-baby check up. Good old Dr. Griffin. I loved him-nice man . . . very attentive . . . especially to this new baby sister of mine. (Grrrrrrr) In the middle of his examination of her, somewhere from the depths of my 5 or 6 year-old self, I exclaimed:

"MY MOTHER BEATS THE BABY!!!!!"

Good grief, I have no idea why I chose to utter those words. I clearly remember saying them, though. My poor mother-she never saw it coming. Neither did I! Thankfully, the doctor knew our family quite well and must have had some experience with bratty little children because he never flinched. My mom however . . . well, suffice to say she hadn't been beating the baby but when it came to 5 year-olds . . .

No, I'm just kidding BUT I distinctly remember her turning on me in the car out in the parking lot and asking (loudly) why on earth I would say something like that to which I replied, "I just wanted to see what you'd say." (Duh . . . I wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed-that's for sure!) Can you imagine?

You know the saying about paybacks? If you're a parent yourself, you know!! My father-in-law always said, "I'm just going to sit back and laugh!" Sadly, he is not around to laugh at us anymore (not on this side of earth at least), but trust me when I tell you that there are other grandparents enjoying their fair share of laughter at our expense.

When Cassidy was about that same age as the bratty little girl in Dr. Griffin's office, she was asked to be a flower girl in a wedding. She had a blast and offered to be a flower girl in everyone's wedding (even for couples who were already married)-loved everything about it and was fixated on weddings for quite some time. It should have come as no surprise when I picked her up from Sunday School one day and her teacher was giggling.

"Cassidy really wants you and Gregg to finally get married," said Miss Diane as other parents stood nearby, ready to pick up their own chatterboxes.

After a hasty explanation and exit from the preschool area, I remembered that fateful day in Dr. Griffin's parking lot. Paybacks.

And did I mention that Mackenzie spends quite a bit of time at our pastor's house? Ever since she was about 2 weeks old, she has been in the loving care of "Oma" (our pastor's wife) while Gregg and I are at work. Oma has been with her through learning to roll over, sit, crawl, walk and talk . . . oh yes . . . the talking.

Suffice to say, there are no secrets. The last revelation included Mackenzie's need to tell Oma and Papa (at dinner nonetheless) that "Daddy cuts his toenails over the toilet 'cause Mommy gets mad if he gets his nails all over the place."

Ewwwww . . . please . . . she felt the need to discuss this because???????

So, on a day that celebrates moms, encourages extra hugs and kisses and expressions of thanks and gratitude for those women who do their absolute best to raise up little people to be good and not so bratty, I'd like to publicly thank my own mom. And apologize. I honestly don't know why I told Dr. Griffin that you were beating the baby.

And to my own children, my dear Thing 1 and Thing 2, be careful what you do to me now because hopefully, Lord willing, you wil have little children of your own. And I will remember.

And I will laugh.

In Appreciation . . .

2009-05-08T07:12:00.000-07:00

This week marks "staff appreciation week" at Cassidy's school.

I'm not sure if there's one universal "teacher appreciation" day or "staff appreciation" day, but I do know that it's happening in our little corner of the world this week.

Because I have a huge appreciation for what our elementary school staff does and because I'm blessed to have an opportunity to write for anyone who is somewhat interested in coming here to check out the blog from time to time, I'm devoting this post to school teachers and staff . . . present AND past. Just as Cassidy has been blessed to have some incredible people in her life through school, so have I!!!!

Last week, as I mentioned in the previous post, I had the chance to help out with "Friday Night Live" at Cassidy's school. For as many times as I was thanked for helping out, I'd have to honestly throw a thanks right back in the direction from where the gratitude came because I learned A LOT through the experience.

For example, ever since Cassidy ventured to first grade, I've eaten more than one school lunch with her and willingly paid the nice cashier for my lunch. I've seen other women scurry around and refill the food in the buffet line. I've watched the custodian jump to clean up spills and messes. I never knew their names, but I knew they certainly did their part in making the school a better place. Last week, however, these great people came to my rescue and suddenly we bonded. Upon seeing me struggle with my attempts to put up a tent outside the school for FNL decoration, they jumped in to help. I never had to ask. They were great and we had a lot of laughs. When it was all said and done, we agreed that installing tents (or canopies) should be a summer Olympic sport. We are competing on the first US team ever if this new event takes hold. Seriously. They also were kind enough to not bat an eye when I realized Thing 2 had to eat lunch and "do you mind if I put in an order for another lunch?" so my 4 year-old can eat in the midst of the chaos. They were happy to help and made my life so much easier.

To the school nurse, Mrs. S, I express my heartfelt thanks for every bandaid you've given Thing 1 for everything down to the smallest of hangnails. I'm sure you have been an attentive audience to more than one dramatic display from my firstborn. To the school secretary Mrs. C, thanks especially for going the extra mile for me this year and helping out with some of that FNL preparation. I remember one particular day when you didn't get a lunch break, were swamped with phone calls and people popping in the office for various things, yet you helped me out willingly and cheerfully. Thank you! And to the principal, Mrs. S, you will be missed as you go on to your next venture. We parents have appreciated having you at the helm and on a more personal note, thank you for supporting "See You at the Pole" for the past few years. I pray that the next one to sit in your office will have a heart for the Lord as you do. Thank you!

To do justice in expressing my thanks to her teachers (past and present) would be downright impossible. While each has lent a different teaching and education style to her, she has benefitted from each experience and come away learning much more than just the curriculum outlined for the year. Each of these teachers has helped to shape and mold her. Yes, there are some standouts and I am so thankful for them. Her current teacher, Mr. K, is no exception to this and there's no way to adequately express our appreciation.

Suffice to say, the one thing that makes Mr. K a standout, would be his desire to encourage his students to "go beyond themselves." It's because Mr. K does this himself that he can demand it of his students. I've been privvy to a few of the things that this man does in our community, let alone the school itself. Sadly, I've been sworn to secrecy, but rest assured that the things that he does are not about him but rather the Lord. Yes, he teaches the "three R's" in his classroom but the lessons go beyond the basics and get down to the literal heart of the matter. Gone is the writing assignment to describe a summer vacation, but rather to consider a problem or worthy cause that his students could help with . . . to explain why the issue is worth their attention and then a plan of action resulting in improvement. He plays music for the class and discusses the inspiration behind the song and he has been the model for encouraging a positive atitude in the classroom. Just recently, as the 4th grade classes departed for a 24 hour pioneer camping experience that was destined by weather forecasters to be a chilly time, he had the group convinced that "the colder the better!" Cassidy prayed for cold weather because "Mr. K says we'll have so many more opportunities if it's not warm." Several of us parents giggled with our hands over our mouths. One 4th grade dad joked that "if it comes from Mr. K, then it must be sacred."

Once upon a time, I had my own "Mr. K" for a teacher-only it was a petite young woman named Mrs. Coe. She was the one who helped me discover a passion for writing. She was energetic, bright, fun to have in the front of the classroom and made. us. think. Reading assignments always were followed by discussion, and not limited to a few questions at the end of the piece but inspired by Mrs. Coe's own thoughts and if memory serves correctly, rarely was there a wrong answer. It was always about our opinions but that in order to express them, we'd better be able to back it up with the "why" behind our thoughts. (Did I mention that she made us think and use our brains??) I adored Mrs. Coe and was so sorry to see my year end with her. As Cassidy laments the end of her year with Mr. K drawing to a close, I can appreciate it. I felt the same way about my time with Mrs. Coe.

So, in the spirit of teachers who demand one's personal best, can I ask all of you who are reading this to do me a favor? Leave me a comment and tell me about a teacher who impacted you in a great way. Better yet, find that teacher and tell them thanks. Or let someone at your own child's school how much you appreciate them! They deserve to know!

Live . . . From Cassidy's School . . . It's FRIDAY NIGHT LIVE!!!!

2009-05-03T05:09:00.000-07:00

Each year a huge event, called Friday Night Live, takes place at Cassidy's school.

In short, it's an event . . . almost a rite of passage for 4th and 5th graders at the school . . . that celebrates and embraces reading. There's nothing short OR small about this "shindig" however. What takes place over the span of 14 hours is absolutely amazing. Additionally, to make things even more challenging, is that the theme of the night is top secret. Therefore, any work or preparation that goes on has to take place in private meetings, work sessions, hushed conversations, and code language while in the presence of 10 and 11 year-olds, who are so hyped about finding out the theme, that the possiblilites are discussed all year long.

Below are some photos from the big night. It takes a small army to pull this event off. The creative genius behind the evening would be Cassidy's teacher, Mr. K. The "worker bees" are a slew of parents, older siblings of the 4th and 5th graders and school staff.

This first photo is a "before" shot . . . the walls of the cafeteria/gym had just finished being draped in plastic. The photo immediately following shows a "birds eye view" of the room after the guests of honor have arrived.

The kids arrive with sleeping bags and pillows in tow and set up a comfy spot for themselves in their assigned group. Once the evening begins, the plot is introduced and the kids watch the events unfold via skits, songs and dances-usually performed by nearly the entire staff, and the occasional family member of an unsuspecting 4th or 5th grader. And yes, Cassidy's family was recruited to appear during the evening. Interspersed between these events are silent reading times.

Various storybook characters "came to life" as the evening unfolded. I portrayed Hermione Granger, Gregg rode across the room on a zip line as Harry Potter and Thing 2 morphed into Raggedy Ann.

In fact, Mackenzie even got some new facial features for her character-thanks to a 5th grader's talented mom, who just happens to be a drama teacher at an area high school.

After volunteering my services to do some choreography, I got to work with Cassidy's school principal and her husband, both of whom portrayed Mary Poppins and Burt throughout the evening.

FNL usually incorporates a "field trip" to a cool destination that is worked into the evening's plot line. This year was no exception and in the photo below, you can see Mr. K greeting the kids at a local park. The kids arrived to a fire burning on the beach, a quest to find missing treasure, an assist from the Navy Seals, and ultimately witnessing the evening's arch enemies taken away by boat into the eerie darkness of the night. Ah, I'm always a sucker for a happy ending!

FNL concluded at the high school, where the kids had an opportunity to swim, dance, sign eachother's limited edition FNL shirts and eat. more. food.

And as I watched these kids have a ball and saw the joy on my own daughter's face, I started thinking . . .

I wonder what next year's theme will be!!

Happy Birthday, Mom!

2009-04-27T20:06:00.000-07:00

There once was a girl who was born on a day-
the 28th actually . . . just before May.

She sang and she danced, had curls galore-
Until that fateful day with scissors-those curls were no more!

She grew up in Nebraska, Omaha to be exact . . .
Over the years it was here she learned to sing, dance and act.

She followed her dream-off to NYC she did head
Went to the one destination where she truly felt led.

It wasn't long after arriving, she experienced success-
Sharing a stage with Carol Channing, Dolly Levi in a red dress.

The years flew by quickly, but kept her heart in dance
Led by the Lord, not by random chance.

As chapters would end and new ones began,
She kept living life-according to His plan.

That plan included motherhood-daughters totaling three
How she maintained sanity-the answer escapes me!

Three sisters we were . . . known as singers and dancers
And of course through the teen years, thought we had all the answers!

But age does a funny thing, especially upon becoming a mom
When suddenly you discover you had it all wrong!

And now that I am a mom (to girls nonetheless)
I just have to tell you, I need to confess!

My mom is so smart-especially during the years that I "knew" it all
I hope I'm doing half as good a job, as I stumble and I fall!

So Mom, from me to you-please allow me say
I love you like crazy and Happy Birthday!

Love, Kari

Welcome Spring! (I think)

2009-04-25T05:44:00.000-07:00

When you live in the area that we do, you hold your breath in between seasons. You see, you could be having a lovely time at the park with your kids one moment, then rush home to get out your snow shovel. There's no way of predicting things.

But, I think spring is making a comeback. (Understand I am holding my breath as I type this.)

What a winter it's been. Goodbye and good riddance. I loved the new addition of the woodburing stove in our house these past several months, but I'm over it. Bring on warm weather!

This is one of my favorite parts of spring . . . the signs of new growth on my rosebushes-especially on the rose bushes from my grandfather's yard.

Mackenzie's preschool had a field trip to a nursery this past week. Each child got a chance to "plant" their own geranium in a pot. Mackenzie chose a pink geranium. Surprising, I know.

Here she checks out the small buds on her plant. It won't be long!

As we walked through the nursery, I started to mentally plan my garden. Celery was a big hit in our house last year. We'll definitely do a repeat along with the usual fare . . . tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers . . .

And did I mention that we added asparagus to the garden last year?

Yesterday, I cheated and picked 6 stalks. Technically we're not supposed to harvest any this year, but I couldn't help myself. I mean, it is important to make sure we chose well last spring. Right???

For the record, we chose really well. It was DELICIOUS!!!!

Of course, spring also brings new dilemmas . . . more time to carve out of the day for maintaining the yard, mowing, watering and so on. The other dilemmas would be dealing with Thing 1 and Thing 2 when it comes to selecting the wardrobe ensemble for the day. Here is an example of the fun in our house yesterday morning:

Me: "Alright, let's get your outfit out for school today."

Thing 2: "Wait!" (pushing arm out in my direction-sort of like a "Stop in the Name of Love" kind of way) "I think it's nice out today. Can I wear a skirt?"

Me: "Well, it's . . . "

Thing 2: (Interrupting) "No! Wait! I think I want to wear capri's."

Me: "Ok, I think . . . "

Thing 2: "No! Wait! I think I want to wear a dress!"

Me: "But, you're going . . . "

Thing 2: "No! Wait! I want to find a cute t-shirt!"

Me: "That's a much better . . . "

Thing 2: "No! Wait! I think I want the skirt!" (rummaging through wardrobe again) "Oh mommy!!!! I want to wear my new sandals! No! Wait! Maybe my crocs. No! Wait! How 'bout these pretty white shoes? Those would be good!"

Finally I gave up, left her room and let her agonize over the decision for awhile. I had other things to do.

Like find the snow shovel again because around here, you just never know.

2009-04-22T11:04:00.000-07:00

The word "tradition" usually brings to mind thoughts of Christmas. We have such traditions, but we also have another tradition. It's called GO BIG RED!

The time has come to share the tradition with future generations of Husker fans. Maybe even future players and cheerleaders???

This past weekend, another "pilgrimage" to Memorial Stadium was made. This time however, some future "greatest fans in college football" were along for the ride. Nebraska's annual spring scrimmage (a.k.a. Red/White Game) took place on Saturday.

Prior to kickoff was the spring game luncheon. As we ate and awaited words from Bo Pelini and Tom Osborne, Mackenzie and Cassidy got to mingle with some cheerleaders. Mackenzie was more than happy to borrow poms from one of the girls!

Prior to game time, I wondered if the girls would enjoy themselves and get into the spirit of it all.

I'm pretty certain that they did!

Nanna had a "first" all of her own this past weekend. In all the years of attending games, she had never stepped foot onto the field itself. Ever!!!

Until now!

What a great weekend for all of us! Honestly, I don't know who had more fun . . . the adults or the kids.

And so the tradition continues! Go Big Red!

Easter 2009

2009-04-13T09:08:00.001-07:00

2009-04-08T19:45:00.000-07:00

I miss blogging.

I find myself sitting at the computer thinking that I need to update. Then I get stuck. What to write about? Ho hum. Boring. Then I remember that to-do list sitting in my planner and feel guilty. To get the paperwork off to our accountant before April 15th or to update the blog . . . hmmmm . . .

Then again, the main reason that I started this blog was to simply write. If it all doesn't fit or seem amusing or interesting, life goes on. Right?

So, without further ado . . . I give you my past week-in review. It's random, amusing to some, completely boring to others, but it's mine. Here goes:

Our children's department at church ushered in the start of Holy Week by waving their "palms" this last Sunday as they paraded through the sanctuary. This was the first year that we didn't see both of our girls waving branches, as Cassidy's age group didn't take part. They only had the "young" children participate. I'll readily admit to being a little misty-eyed that she's considered to be "too old" to take part.

While we're on the topic of tears, Cassidy headed to camp on Monday with her class. No, Cassidy did not cry. I didn't cry, either. Mackenzie, on the other hand, had the motherload of all meltdowns. Oh my word! It was horrible, but it was a great teaching opportunity to remind Cassidy that when she thinks her little sister is driving her beserk, Thing 2 loves her like crazy. (Never mind the drama and hormones that exist within this house-I'm sure it was all pure love. Ha!) I too, will use the memory to remind myself of their sisterly love when they're driving me CRAZY!!!!! (As a side note, the camper had a great time-even with the snow on the ground on the morning of her departure.)

Oh yes, and I did mention the word hormones in that last paragraph, right? I can't believe that I'm going to go public here, but here goes nothing . . .

I experienced my first real-honest-to-goodness HOT flash a few nights ago. Hand. Over. The. Ice. Packs. I found out that it's a little like childbirth. No amount of "been there, done that" stories from well-meaning women can accurately prepare you for this experience. If any of you have ever heard the comedic description of childbirth as being similar to that of pulling your bottom lip up and over your forehead, then allow me to try and match the hot flash experience with one of my own.

Have you ever tried to start a fire? (I'm talking on purpose here-not like when you start to cook rice and forget about it and cause smoke damage to a home.) It's a little like that moment when the fire gets that sudden burst of flame and is roaring along very nicely! Now . . . picture wrapping that fire in a few layers of something that will trap the heat, causing you to think that the outer layer is so hot that it just might peel off and melt. But, to make it more interesting, add an element of frustration to the mix . . . like the feeling of trying to find the end on a roll of packing tape or trying to untie a knot in a shoelace in less than 10 seconds. When you add it all up, this should accurately help describe the sensation . . . sudden fire-comes to life inside my core. But, because I have enjoyed being warm at night, I have these wonderfully suffocating flannel sheets on our bed. Add to that my flannel pj's and you have the perfect recipe for a combustible that only a trained firefighter would dare challenge with a lit match. In fact, as I write this, Gregg is informing me that each time I move at night, I already cause sparks to appear under the covers due to static electricity. Add the element of surprise (middle of the night) and confusion (remember . . . I was in a dead sleep . . . no coffee in sight) and you have the makings of an experience that has been like no other I've met in my life. Until now.

My first reaction was to rid myself of all bedding. I'll spare you the details of what happened next, but I will say that it's not what I WANTED to do. Had I allowed myself to really experience instant comfort (and remember that I DID NOT do this), I would have ripped off every stitch of clothing and run outside in the snow (and as luck would have it, it was doing that very thing that night) and pressed my body against the glass storm door on the front of the house. Now THAT would have been heaven. Unfortunately, it might have landed me in jail for indecent exposure. I pictured my family. We'd have to move out of state as a result of my menopause because people would look at them with pity every time the subject of my incarceration, the fire department, and bail money would come up. I couldn't do that to them. Suffer I must. And I did. And thankfully it passed. And hopefully it won't ever happen again. And yes, I can hear my mom laughing even before she reads this because I know it's only just begun. Yay 40. Welcome to my world.

Now . . . where was I? Oh yes . . . the planner sitting on my kitchen table right now. . . to blog or work on my to-do list. That reminds me that I need to make a new entry on that list and add "buy a fan" ASAP.

Happy April Fools Day!

2009-04-01T11:41:00.000-07:00

I've never been a huge fan of April Fool's Day . . . mainly because I've never been good at thinking up a good prank. Some things just seem too mean and others are just lame. Other pranks are just unforgivable-like Allison's ensemble on "American Idol" last night. Obviously her stylist got Allison REALLY good-just one day early!

As I was putting my makeup on this morning, Cassidy wandered in and started giggling. "Mommy!" she said in a dramatic whisper. "Look at the April Fools Day joke I'm playing on Daddy!" With that, she opened the shower curtain with a flourish to reveal she'd switched the spots where he keeps his shampoo and shaving cream. "Oooh... " I said, "you got him good!" If only I'd thought of something that creative. Rats.

Here, in no particular order, are some thoughts I've been tossing around as a potential April Fools Day joke for my husband.

The girls got through the entire day without bickering! (Nah, he'd never believe this one.)

I got through the whole day without coffee. (My alertness would never sell this one.)

Mackenzie hasn't whined once today. (See #1)

Papa Dean doesn't like Menard's anymore. (Might make him cry-don't want to go there.)

I've subscribed to the other newspaper in town. (Might make him mad-don't want to go there, either.)

I've been hypnotized and don't fear squirrels or chipmunks anymore. (I've already tried this and it didn't work.) Just kidding. But now I've gotta wonder . . .

I'd like to have another baby. (ROFLOL! I'd never be able to say it with a straight face!)

So, I've got nothin'. What excellent prank have you ever played for April Fool's Day? Anyone? Anyone?

Spring Break

2009-03-29T20:51:00.000-07:00

Has it been a week already? Rats. Spring break came and went and I did nothing. Nada. Zip.

Don't get me wrong-it was a good break. But I did NOTHING! I feel so guilty.

No closets got cleaned out, no projects got completed, only a little bit of laundry got done and I slept late. I got 2 books read and cheered Gregg on as he worked on his own projects. Me? Nope. Just laziness. Bummer.

I DID, however, make my oldest do some work. She was angling for a pet fish (Get it? Angling for a fish?) and so I took the Things to the library to do some research. For whatever reason, she was really wanting to get a Siamese Fighting Fish. Why she wanted to get this breed is beyond my comprehension, as this breed does very little. They hang out. According to my sister, Happi, their own fighting fish actually lies on the bottom of their tank (and yes, it is alive). Boring. Three days of living in our house and these fish don't even swim to the top of their tank in excitement over dinner arriving in the form of colorful flakes floating on top of the water.

So, in an effort for Cassidy to learn all about this fish, I made her do some research. I also made her write a paper. (Seriously. Can I help it if I'd hoped this would disminish the desire to be a fish owner?)

Unfortunately, nowhere in these books did it say, "THIS FISH WILL DO NOTHING FUN IN THE TANK . . . NO CARTWHEELS, NO TRICKS, NOTHING! IT WILL BORE YOU TO TEARS! GET SOME CUTE NEON TETRAS, INSTEAD!" Instead, she learned all about the aggression of the male species, the bubble nest for the eggs, the saliva in the bubble nest and that it eats blood worms. Mackenzie was enthralled. The next day, Fish 1 and Fish 2 came to live at our house.

Fish 2 appropriately belongs to Thing 2. She named him "Swimmy." It has turned out to be a great name for him, as he does indeed do some swimming. Truthfully, he is more active than the other new addition to our family. I really pushed for a more Nebraska-friendly name . . . like Husker, Big Red, Osborne or even Bo. No such luck. Swimmy it is.

Thing 1 will do everything to try and convince you that her fish (seen below yet unnamed as she has changed the name at least 92 times in the past 24 hours), is full of pep and lots of personality. Just this morning as she got ready for church, she was convinced that he was barking at her (in a fish sort of way), slamming his little slimy body against the side of the aquarium to try and get her attention and that he blew some bubbles at her. Right after she told me this, I ran outside and saw a pink elephant go down our street riding in clown car, all while being pelted with sleet and snow.

I know, it's all ludicrous of course. All except for the sleet and snow part. I only wish I was exaggerating on that one.

So, that in a nutshell is spring break from our house. Seven days and two fish later, life is good.

Lazy, too. Like a Siamese fighting fish. But good nonetheless.

Happy Birthday-Part II

2009-03-23T11:46:00.000-07:00

Several weeks ago-probably well over a month ago, my mom invited us to dinner to celebrate my birthday on the Saturday following my birthday. She also informed me that my dad wanted to take me to lunch that day. Fast forward to this past Wednesday-it was a great day and ended with birthday cards to open from Gregg and the girls. After opening the last card, I was informed by my sweet hubby that the two of us would be going to get my gift on Friday . . . WITHOUT the children. I was told that his mom would be arriving to pick up the grandchildren at 4 pm and that I was to be ready to leave.

Over the next 48 hours from receiving that information, I was given clues but didn't know our destination until just before walking out the door. As it turns out, my gift was located in Chicago and off we went.

Upon arriving downtown, we circled the block to find a parking garage and when Gregg pointed out the hotel, I saw that just next door was a theatre displaying "Jersey Boys" on the marquis. It wasn't until we were out of the car and approaching the hotel entrance that Gregg told me that we were indeed seeing the show that evening!!!

After checking in, we wandered down the street to do dinner before the show. It was at this restaurant that Gregg and I experienced the ultimate fish story. We have laughed about this more times than we can count at this point. We are certain that in our old age, when our girls draw straws as to who's turn it is to go in and take care of mom and dad, they will commiserate about having to endure the fish story AGAIN-as we're sure it will become legendary. Allow me to share:

Have you ever seen that commercial (I think it was for Visa/Mastercard or American Express) where the couple dines at a very fancy restaurant and when their food arrives, it's nearly miniature in size? The next scene shows them at a convenience store buying junk food since dinner didn't do the job of filling them up.

Having said that, Gregg ordered fish. Pacific Sea Bass to be exact. The restaurant is so nice that it's one of those places where everything is a la carte. Want a salad? You'll need to order it separately. Right after you take out a second mortgage on the house. Suffice to say, we didn't order salads. Surely our main entree would satisfy.

After much anticipation, our food arrives and it takes nearly everything to stifle the giggles. Gregg's fish is literally about 1" x 3" in size, beautifully displayed on a plate nearly 14" in diameter. A can of tuna would probably have been more filling. Don't believe me? See for yourself. And note the point of reference in placing Gregg's fork in the photo. That will help you understand.

We went ahead and splurged on dessert-partly to stave off hunger midway into the show, as I shared my ravioli (about 8 to be exact) with Gregg once he'd finished his fish. Dessert arrives. Cookies. All three of them were the size of a quarter. Nuff said. Moving on.

As we nearly collapsed in laughter AFTER we left the restaurant (we tried desperately to act cool and everything-pretending like we knew all along that our dinners would be miniature sized), we headed to the theatre and thoroughly enjoyed the first act of the show. During intermission, Gregg got a phone call. Somehow, via my mom to my brother-in-law through a co-worker to her boyfriend in the show, we were going backstage for a tour afterwards. I'm sure that a tie in with Kevin Bacon fits into this somehow, but I'm not quite certain of the connection yet.

The tour was interesting and I desperately wished for my mom. Once upon a time, she did a 6 month run of "Hello Dolly" with Carol Channing at this very same theatre and as we wound our way through the maze backstage and down in the basement, I had to wonder where my mom had applied her makeup and warmed up before the start of a show once upon a time. It was an experience I won't ever forget.

Fast forward to nearly 12 hours later. Gregg and I were heading home again and I commented at how much I wished we had more time to enjoy the city. Gregg said very little, other than needing to get me back in time to meet my lunch date.

Right on schedule, my next date arrived and off we went to eat. As I looked over the menu, I shared our fish story with Papa Dean and he had a good laugh as well. At the end of our meal, his cell phone rang and I heard his end of the conversation with my mom. Apparently our next stop would be at the studio-some customers had arrived and could we come on over so that I could help them out with some ballroom shoes? Off we went.

To try and explain what happened next is still surreal in memory. A gentleman as always, my dad had opened the door of the studio and ushered me in first and when I opened the next door, the sight of a crowd of people in semi-darkness greeted me. Then, the singing began-specifically "Happy Birthday" and as I focused more on the faces in the crowd, it dawned on me. This was a party for me. I was the guest of honor!

I found myself starting with the people nearest me-hugging the necks of people from church, my baby sister Darci and her family from 5 hours away, the girls from my Bible Study, and on and on. Students of mine were in attendance, my other sister Happi and her family and my preschool teacher! I continued to wander through the tables and as I was hugging that first teacher of mine, I nearly fell over. My best friend from high school stood behind her and as I left Mrs. Swann's arms for Cindy's arms, I burst into tears. My BFF had traveled over 400 miles to celebrate with me.

The party rocked. My parents and sisters had worked tirelessly, though they never said so. I just know so. Every detail was planned out perfectly. It was obvious that more planning, thought and love went into this occasion than I will ever be able to fathom. To top it off, Happi presented me with an amazing gift . . . a scrapbook of photos, letters, and memories of my life from birth through the present. I had notes from people who held me as a newborn to friends who have become a part of my life just in the past year. I had letters from family-sentimental notes and ones that made me laugh. It was a lot of work to put together-I know. I also knew that it was a labor of love. To say that I was awe-struck wouldn't even suffice. I will treasure this book forever.

As Gregg and I laid in bed later than night and replayed the evening back, he half jokingly commented that the afternoon had been like getting to experience your funeral before dying . . . being honored and loved on by family and friends and being ALIVE to experience it. Odd as it may sound, it was true. I'd never experienced anything quite like it. Now that I have, I hope everyone gets an opportunity to do so in their life at some point. It was amazing!

So again, I say thank you to everyone who had a hand in making the weekend happen. I know that my family busted themselves to show me an incredible experience and I don't know that it would be possible to ever convey my extreme gratitude to each of you. I won't ever forget it. I had the time of my life! I love you all!!!!

THIS Is Your Life!

2009-03-21T21:07:00.000-07:00

If there were ever a story written about the greatest weekend a person could experience in their life, I would hope that the author would consider mine to become their next bestseller.

I turned 40 this week. I made reference to "40 and Fabulous" here on this blog. Little did I know how fabulous "40" can be!

The details are numerous, but suffice to say I have experienced a real-life version of "This Is Your Life" in the span of a few hours. From my preschool teacher to my BFF from high school to 4 of my 5 bridesmaids from my wedding to an old roommate from my days on Carnival Cruise Lines and newest friends just made in the past couple of months, I had the extreme blessing of being honored, blessed and loved on for a few hours meant solely for wishing me a happy birthday.

I know that several of you read this blog, live quite a distance and couldn't be here today. I read your messages and you will never know what they meant to me. Thank you so much for your kind words.

It's been one of the happiest days of my life. Truly. I am overwhelmed, thankful and full of gratitude!

I know that a lot of people were instrumental in making this day happen, but a special thanks goes out to my family. I know you put more hours of love into making this all possible than I will ever be able to fathom and I hope you know how much I love you all and how much of a blessing you are to me! Thank you so very much!!

I will catch you all up on the details when I have more time (and energy-partying takes a lot out of a girl) but I just had to stop and take a moment to say thank you. For everything. As special as you made ME feel today, I hope you know how special YOU are to me! God bless you all!

Forty and Fabulous!

2009-03-18T09:56:00.000-07:00

Yep. It's a milestone today.

Forty.

And Fabulous.

It's all good!

Doc-In-the-Box . . . The Story That Dr. Seuss Didn't Write

2009-03-13T11:53:00.000-07:00

It was a cloudy, cold day.

Then, it was a beautiful sunny, warm day.

Then it got cooler the next day.

The tornado sirens went off.

It got colder.

It rained. Then it snowed.

The sun came out.

It was still cold.

And that's our weather. No wonder I'm afflicted with "the crud" right now. To make matters even more fun, Gregg's sick. So is my mom. She is the original bearer of the crud germs though, so we are blaming her for our problems. (Isn't that what kids do? Blame their parents for all things bad?)

Things didn't improve much with a trip to the Doc-in-the-Box yesterday. (Doc-in-the-Box is what we call the kind people who we visit when our own family doctor has too many crud-inflicted people in the office for the day to be able to squeeze us in for a visit. Doc-in-the-Box is located in Wal-Mart in these parts. Maybe you have a Doc-in-the Box somewhere "unusual" where you live . . . a grocery store? A pharmacy? Maybe even in a Dunkin Donuts?)

I knew we were in for a humor-less visit when Thing 2 and I were first escorted into the Doc-in-the-Box room and the kind nurse practitioner on duty gestured toward one of the chairs and said, "I put the basket of suckers and stickers out for you." I immediately thanked her profusely, paused then said "oh, you meant they're for her!" as I motioned to Thing 2. No laughter. Moving on.

The exam commenced. As predicted, I did indeed have "the crud." As she left my side to go write out a prescription for antibiotics, I asked if she could also prescribe or recommend something for the sinus pressure. She looked up at me.

"I guess I should look inside your nose," she said.

Uhm . . . I'm thinking that she probably should have done this earlier on, but that's ok. She's sending me off with a prescription for drugs. I like her so much that I just may add her to the list of people to send Christmas cards to if I ever actually resume this activity again rather than just discuss it in the next holiday season.

As Thing 2 and I headed to our prescription-filling place of choice, I noticed sparrows busily building a nest in the "R" of DRIVE-THRU" as we waited in line at Walgreen's. I was mesmerized by their activity-wondering if they had any clue that it's still way too cold to comfortably wear capri pants. Later on in the evening, Thing 1 spotted robins in a yard on our street and upon arriving home, spotted two more robins in the yard next to our's.

"Look Mommy, those robins are fighting with each other!" she laughed. "See how they're hitting each other with their wings?" As I turned in the direction of the birds, she was right. They were definitely working out some issues with eachother.

The nesting sparrows and conflict-filled robins have given me hope, though.

Capri pants just may be in my immediate future after all.

Reality TV At It's Finest!

2009-03-11T11:52:00.000-07:00

Ah, a fresh new season of reality TV has arrived . . . let the games begin.

I was so glad to see "Dancing with the Stars" return to Monday nights. I hope I'll still be saying that in the next few weeks as I anticipate growing increasingly frustrated with my least favorites still in the mix. I know that the whole point of the show is to bring in non-dancer "celebs" but was it really necessary to bring in the former co-founder of Apple? Poor poor Steve Wozniak . . . definitely gifted in the computer scene, but not so much on the dance floor. (YIKES!!) And then there's the whole costuming thing with Karina . . . I think I was blushing as I desperately tried not to look too closely. (Insert another YIKES here.) And she's engaged to Maks? I shudder at the thought.

And can we have gotten off to a more interesting start? Lil Kim (who the heck is this person?) dedicates her performance to the girls in the pen? And the next guy? He's creepy.

On a more positive note ('cause right now I'm picturing my grandfather making claw-like gestures with his hands and meowing at me for being too catty), my favorites are Gilles, Melissa (poor girl, but she's better off) and Shawn. I am hoping that these three make it to the end and I can't wait to see the improvement that happens from here on out.

American Idol didn't disappoint. As usual, Paula seemed to have had a few too many before the show. Sadly, we (Gregg, actually) didn't reset the time on our VCR over the weekend (yeah, we don't have DVR or TiVo) and we missed the first few contestants. Based on the final clips and the smallish-sized sample on iTunes from last night's performance, I am loving Danny Gokey and hope it comes down to him and Adam battling it out at the end. Time will tell.

Let the games begin, indeed!

You Know Things Are About To Get More Interesting When . . .

2009-03-06T11:05:00.000-08:00

. . . your 4 year-old wakes up in the morning and announces "Mommy! Jesus escaped from my heart in the middle of the night." (For the record, He remains in her heart-apparently she had a dream that He left.) Phew.

. . . the American Idol judges announce that they are bringing Tatiana back for another shot on the wildcard show. What?????????

. . . someone approaches you after your car's been parked for several hours already (so you know they're not coming in to tell you that your lights are on) and they sheepishly ask, "do you own that white Buick at the end of the parking lot?"

. . . one of your children thinks that a great solution for getting a sibling out of a closet is to slam their head in the door.

. . . you hear a loud crash (see above) and your husband calls out for ice. "Quick!"

. . . you accidentally wedge the corner of a car door into the back of your calf. Note to self: add ice pack to the list of things to pick up next time I run to Target.

. . . the preschool Superstar chooses Daddy as her special guest to read to her class, learns that he might not be able to make it, and requests that her sister be pulled out of school to read to the class instead. Upon learning that this is not an option, taps her chin and looks thoughtfully into my eyes and says, "I don't have anyone else left to ask." (Is there any greater humbling job than that of being a mother?)

. . . you offer to teach a class for the kids department at church and your child informs you that she'd rather be in a different class. (Did I mention the humbling aspect of motherhood?)

Because I Know You May Have Lost Some Sleep In the Anticipation:

2009-03-02T10:43:00.001-08:00

I give you . . .

The SUPERSTAR vest!!!!!!!!!!

Martha Stewart never made a paper bag look so cute. Or so feathery.

If March Comes In Like a Lion . . .

2009-03-01T13:29:00.000-08:00

. . . then it sure better turn lamb-like in about 30 days.

That's what I'm sayin'.

Sheesh. A whole week has flown by since my last post. My writing mojo's gone on hiatus, so this post is going to be a lot of random nothingness. (Is nothingness a word? If not, let's make it one.)

Monday: Gregg came home! PTL! May I personally send a shout out to all single parents out there? I don't know how you do it-honestly. The Things are good girls, but it was really great to have him back in the mix.

Tuesday: I discovered that American Idol was being bumped to Wednesday night. Bummer.

Wednesday: Mackenzie learned that she is next in line to become the weekly "superstar" at preschool, starting tomorrow. She has been waiting (NOT so patiently) for her turn at this since the beginning of the school year and finally has her moment in the spotlight this next week. I have explicit instructions at what all is involved with being the superstar, starting with her paper-grocery-bag-vest. Her teacher handed me the bag, smiled cheerfully and she encouraged us to decorate it. I know you all are dying to see our work. Too bad I'm going to save that post for tomorrow. ;-) Ah, and American Idol was back . . . I'm thinking that Adam is our next David Cook.

Thursday: It rained. A lot. Then it snowed. It's all because I'd gotten ambitious on Wednesday and washed, vacuumed and cleaned the car. I should have known better. Rats. We also had a field trip with Thing 2's preschool class to Culver's. There is nothing quite like handing 20 dishes of ice cream out to 4 and 5 year-olds in a nearly empty restaurant without a child to adult ratio of 1:1-let me tell you. At one point, a group of the girls started chanting "GIRLS TA-BLE . . . NO BOYS ALLOWED" while beating the rhythm out on the table top with their plastic spoons. I regret to inform you all that Mackenzie was one of the loudest, although I had to give her props for the no boys thing. Gregg would be proud.

Friday: I finally got started on Mackenzie's vest. She let me know each time I did something unsatisfactory and I was humbled by her honesty. Something tells me that this is going to be a long week.

Saturday: It was a busy day . . . work, catching up on housework, church, and recovering from watching a commercial on TLC. Has anyone ever heard of the show "Toddlers and Tiaras?" Oh my word . . . the commercial alone was enough to nearly send me over the edge . . . mothers shaving their toddler daughters' legs in preparation for a beauty pageant and no, I am not kidding.

Today: I need to send a shout out to my brother-in-law, Jerry. Happy Birthday, Jerimus!! You're the best!!! Also, the work on the vest continues. Can we say pink maribou? I know you're all on the edge of your seats waiting.

In the meantime, I hope you all are enjoying a sunny start to March-a lovely month, indeed . . . St. Patrick's Day, my birthday, spring break (or in these parts, we call it "supposed-to-be-spring-but-feels-more-like-winter-break") and last, but not least, shamrock shakes from McDonald's. Ah, gotta love March.

Two's Company, Three's a Crowd

2009-02-22T15:53:00.000-08:00

There's nothing that screams "I love you" more than preparing for a family outing and having one of your children look you in the eye and say, "Oh. You're coming, too?

Case in point: with Gregg's out-of-town trip to California this weekend, my parents (A)took pity on me, (B) wanted to see the grandchildren, (C) were really REALLY bored or (D) all of the above, when they invited us to register as guests at their "lodge" this weekend. So, I packed up the kiddos and all of their stuff, completely forgot to pack my own toothbrush in my rush to escape our own house and made a beeline for their house.

As I was loading the car, Thing 2 was clapping her hands and jumping up and down with glee. (I've made it a rule that for at least the next 10 years, I will NOT share any plans with them too far ahead of time, lest our plans fall through. What usually follows this type of misfortune is crying and gnashing of teeth. It's not pretty. And it's far too much for me to deal with while I'm outnumbered in the child:adult ratio. Hence, my silence up to this moment.) So as I loaded the car, she asked:

"So it is just ME that's going to Nanna and Papa Dean's?"

I quickly informed her that Cassidy was coming along, too. And me.

Those last words prompted her to actually make eye contact with me and say "oh" with about as much enthusiasm as a person getting ready to go have a root canal.

On the way over to my parents' house, she brightened and said "I'm going to have chocolate pudding for breakfast!" I quickly reminded her that Nanna might not be offering pudding. (Yeah, I know. Who am I kidding?) Mackenzie quickly disagreed and added "I'm also having donuts with sprinkles." And again, I suggested that donuts might not be happening the next morning. (Lest any of you potentially lose sleep in wondering how the whole scenario played out, yes . . . chocolate pudding AND donuts WERE on the breakfast menu. Let me also state that there were only TWO donuts. I was offered a bagel. Not that I'm bitter or anything. Really.

I should add, in fairness to my mom, that she fixed me my favorite meal of all time . . . pork chops and sauerkraut. Oh heaven!!!! Gregg despises pork chops and sauerkraut, hence our master plan to indulge while he was gone.

So it's ok that I didn't have a donut waiting for me this morning. Really. And that Mackenzie really didn't want me around this weekend. I'm fine with it. After all, I'm having leftover pork chops and sauerkraut for dinner . . . pudding, donuts and sprinkles NOT included because we checked out of the lodge this morning. Back home. Back to reality.

Poor children. Notes of sympathy can be addressed to "We'd Rather Live with Nanna and Papa Dean" in care of "Mom's a Drag."

A Blonde Moment-Brought To You By Thing 2

2009-02-17T21:52:00.000-08:00

Last night gave us a chance to reconnect with some good friends by phone. When I finished talking to Jody, Cassidy took a turn to talk to Rachel, and finally Mackenzie had her turn with Hannah. As I overheard the girls each have a few minutes with their buddies, I heard each of the girls express how much they missed them.

I also heard Mackenzie ask to speak to Aaron . . . Hannah's older brother. Evidently she willingly complied because here is what I heard next:

Mackenzie: "HI!!! How are you??"

Silence. I am assuming that Aaron was answering her question.

Mackenzie: "I really miss you!" (pause) "What's your name again?"

Ah yes, absence does really make the heart grow fonder. I'm just not sure that it does much good for the brain.

Holiday Blues and Seeing Red

2009-02-16T10:41:00.000-08:00

Not everyone is "into" Valentine's Day. Or Presidents Day.

Take, for example, a select few people who unleashed a wrath of fury on me this past weekend. Remember that retail job I took on for some extra cash through the holidays? The Christmas season had NOTHING on the joy displayed by these folks this past weekend! Whew!

First there was the lady who screamed at me and accused me of participating in false advertising. Next, there was the grandfatherly gentleman who yelled at me when I asked to see the signature on the back of his credit card. Ironically, when he did finally give in and allow me to verify his signature, the area on the back of the card clearly said "Show ID" which prompted yet another request for his driver's license. And finally there was the woman who started shrieking at me when I began to take her items and scan them at the beginning of her transaction. Evidently she wanted to go s-l-o-w-l-y (never mind the 15 people in line behind her) and that we were going to do things her way. If I recall correctly, her words went something like this: "we are going to do things MY way and not YOUR way and I want to do this SLOWLY and you can just chill and let me take my own sweet time. Got it?"

Oh yeah, I got it. So did all of the people in line behind her.

I often wonder what prompts the rudeness. Did they wake up on the wrong side of the bed? Just get into a fight with their spouse? A child? A significant other? Did they just get bad news? Maybe they attempted to fill their car with gas for under $50 and failed miserably. Or maybe they hate the idea of the ecomomic stimulus package. Honestly, there are times that I just wish people would approach me and say "I'm having the worst day ever. I'm still bummed out about the election, my tax refund isn't going to be what I'd hoped for, I have a sore throat and all the good Valentine candy at Target has been picked over. Let me buy this stuff and get outta here, ok?"

I'd be fine with that. Really. Because it would be honest. And we can relate, right? It's not all roses. We all have bad days now and again.

So, from me to all of you customers that took an instant dislike to me over the past few days, I wish you peace. And good health. And I'm glad that you had some extra money available to splurge on those little luxury items this past weekend 'cause I'm guessing that meant that you are employed right now. Not everyone is as fortunate.

And last, but not least, I wish you better choices in Valentine candy. And hey, it's all on clearance now, right?

After all, that is something to smile about!

Happy Valentine's Day

2009-02-14T00:01:00.000-08:00

If any of you recall my dilemma from a few weeks ago, Target did NOT have anything in the way of Valentine cards. They even went so far as to tell me how early it was to even be looking for Valentines. (Let me refresh your memory . . . I was there searching at the end of January . . . same place that had Christmas trees for sale long before the Halloween costumes had even made their appearance.)

Anyway, lest you lose any more sleep over my dilemma, let me assure that I DID eventually find those Valentine cards. All is well and the school parties were successful-minus the unpopularity of those cheese hearts for the preschool party. Let's all say it together: "NEVER AGAIN!!"

I'm sure many of you had boxes of these little cards in your house this past week. Nothing says "Happy Valentine's Day" like a little love from the folks at Disney.

I'm also happy to report that M-a-c-k-e-n-z-i-e got a lot of practice in on writing her name out this past week. Of course, she has the patience of a flea and had to take a break after signing each card. It only took us about 2 weeks to finish this project.

Ah yes . . . so happy to have found those boxed Valentine cards at long last! My girls were thrilled with their choices. Then I discovered this card in Mackenzie's bag of Valentines from her class:

Isn't that so cute? And so personal . . . that's a great mom . . . getting crafty with her kids and doing this for 18 other children.

And then I got this in the mail today from my very crafty friend, Carrie. (By the way-that would be crafty as in the artistic way-just so you don't get the wrong idea of the word usage here.)

Hand made creations are definitely the winners here! I'm thinking that this is the way to go next year. If I start now, Mackenzie will only need to complete one every other week for the next twelve months. And we all know that I'll have more time to help her out 'cause I won't be turning slices of cheese into cute little heart shapes next year.

Let the record show that I did pour my creative, crafty efforts into the food prep area of Valentine's Day. I have learned my lesson, however. (Did I mention that I'm NOT doing heart-shaped cheese slices next year?)

Here's hoping you all have a doily, glitter-filled, non-cheese heart day celebration in your own homes!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo!

My Week. In My Words. Cooties and Dead Mice Not Included.

2009-02-12T11:22:00.000-08:00

The week started out innocently enough. In fact, if you don't take into consideration the odor of "dead mouse" in my car, mixed with the pleasant aroma of "Pineapple Orchid" purchased to cover up the dead mouse smell, things got off to a good start on Sunday.

Monday arrived normally and Gregg and I geared up for our parent/teacher conference time at Thing 2's preschool. Thankfully, we heard good things (though I did remind the teacher of what Mackenzie looked like . . . just in case she was confusing her with another little girl). She showed us examples of her work from throughout the year, complete with weekly evaluations . . . knowledge of phone number (good), address (needs some work), colors (perfect), shapes (still hung up on that stupid rectangle issue), dad's name (perfect), mom's name (none) . . .

Whoa . . . I grabbed at the paper. "She doesn't know my name?" I asked.

Her teacher laughed. "Oh, that's typical. That's why we've written 'momma' in the blank. She says that's your name. We asked her what other people call you and she said nothing-that you don't have another name."

Maybe it was the distressed look on my face, because she continued on and leaned in close.

"Hey . . . you'd be amazed at some of the stuff that we hear . . . dads who are mad at moms and call them stuff . . . this is GOOD!"

With the conference over and behind us, I consulted my planner. The rest of the day seemed ordinary enough. Of course, there was the issue of my forgetting to go and pick up my order from the Market Day fundraiser later in the evening. To make matters worse, I went to the wrong place to pick it up. Then I went to ANOTHER wrong place to pick it up. To make matters worse, I was also picking up my mom's order. Hence, my phone call to her to ask "where am I going?" (when I was the one who placed both orders to begin with) is now great fodder for both of my parents. Market Day is now referred to as "Market Night" and I don't think I will live this down anytime soon.

If you'd have paid me a surprise visit on Tuesday, you might have found me cutting out little heart shapes from American cheese slices in preparation for Mackenzie's preschool Valentine's party. Can I just say how much I agonized over the whole "snack mom" thing? To sugar, or not to sugar? To red dye or not to red dye? Peanut allergies? Lactose intolerance? Sheesh. Thankfully I got the go ahead and blessing to do anything . . . not a food allergy in sight. I decided on the aforementioned "cheese hearts" and crackers. In anticipation of hungry little children, I cut out about 120 teeny little hearts. At the party, I watched approximately 118 teeny little hearts go into the trash can. Even my second born tossed hers into the trash. "I don't like this kind of cheese," she said-tossing hers in with the rest. Moving on.

I paid a visit to Thing 1's school on Wednesday to watch PE class turned "Dancing With The 4th Graders." Nanna and Papa Dean have been sharing their ballroom skills with elementary schools in the area (Cassidy's included) and teaching the kids some hustle and jitterbug.

I had a good laugh to myself when they called for the kids to assume dance position and with arms folded, a nearly unanimous chorus of "NO!" rang throughout the gymnasium. Cooties are a definite problem at this age. Praise the Lord! All in all, however, I was really impressed at how well many of the kids danced and loved watching my mom lead Cassidy through some new steps. I'm thankful that they dance so well together 'cause between the current cooties issue and our soon-to-follow no dating policy, Nanna and Papa Dean may be the only partners allowed for quite some time.

CG's Valentine party was today. I played it safe with the food thing-pizza for everyone. Cooties not included. The kids were dismissed for the second half of the day and I was looking forward to collapsing at home. As we walked in the house after school, the Things started in.

"What are going to do now???" they asked gleefully. It didn't look like a nap was anywhere in my near future.

So many choices . . . the possibilites were endless . . .

"How 'bout a new game?" I ventured. They excitedly agreed. "Ok then. It's called 'let's find the dead mouse in mommy's car.'" They scattered.

Ahhhh yes . . . now, what was I saying about that nap?

Chocolate Pudding Meets Horseradish

2009-02-07T08:48:00.000-08:00

I'm happy to say that we have dug out of the snow, are experiencing balmy-like temperatures right now and are experiencing the great Thaw '09. Providing that the big chunks of ice that gave birth to huge dagger-like icicles over these past few weeks don't come crashing down on my head and knock me unconscious, life is good. To make matters even better, Gregg's office didn't go up in flames yesterday (did I mention that 14 fire departments responded to a fire there yesterday afternoon?) and to complete the blessings of our weekend so far, I have survived Cassidy's first ever slumber party. Never mind that we only had two girls over . . . let's keep in mind that I had to also sit through "Mall Cop" (don't waste your money) and dinner out with three pre-teens without another adult in tow. Whew.

So, we've closed the chapter on Cassidy's birthday. As I reported last year, Mackenzie had thanked Jesus in her bedtime prayers that Cassidy's birthday was FINALLY over (she'd had three different birthday celebrations when it was all said and done) and her thankfulness was just as evident this year with the "plethora" of birthday fun showered on her sister again. I knew we were in trouble when Mackenzie said to me early this week, "we're doing sissy's birthday AGAIN?" Thankfully my parents came to rescue and took Thing 2 out of the mix for the past 24 hours. When my mom invited my youngest offspring for a sleepover and made the promise of chocolate pudding for breakfast, I excitedly announced I'd be joining Mackenzie.

That was met with a resounding no. From both Thing 2 AND my mom. (Let's keep in mind that this is the same woman who gave birth to me.) I was told in no uncertain terms that I was not invited. Fine. I was going to see "Mall Cop." Take that, Nanna!

Mackenzie did however, tell Gregg that HE could come to Nanna's house for chocolate pudding. I put on my best sad face and told her how hurt my feelings were-that daddy was invited, but not me. In true Mackenzie fashion, she shrugged and said "Well Mommy, Nanna broke your feelings, too!" She then turned her back on me and asked Gregg for help with blowing her nose-that she was having "issues."

My grandfather often used the expression "strong as horseradish" to describe individuals with strong personalities. Not to my surprise, my mom uses the expression herself from time to time and more than once she has used it when describing Mackenzie. Half the time I don't know whether to stare at my youngest daughter in amazement or crack up. I do know one thing. I need to spend more time in prayer for her future husband out there . . . whomever and wherever he might be . . . I hope he grows up to be a strong individual. Strong like horseradish. God bless him!

There's No Business Like Snow Business

2009-02-05T07:48:00.000-08:00

24 hours and 24 inches later, we have dug out. Blizzard '09 put on a fantastic show and I've got the pictures to prove it.

The girls both had a snow day yesterday, as did I, so we bundled up and went outside for some fun in the white stuff . . . of which there was PLENTY!!!!!

And did I mention that after poking fun at all the people who rush to the grocery store before a blizzard, I ran out of a very essential item needed to make a PB&J.

Bread.

Oops.

Thankfully, my parents came to the rescue. They were out taking a look at the snow in town and saved the day, bringing bread for the munchkins. They brought me M&M's. I do love those people like crazy. God bless them both!

I went out with Sadie this morning, came back inside to Mackenzie who was looking out the windows.

"Mommy!" she said excitedly. "I see the sun! It's summer now!!!"

Stupid groundhog.

My Awards for the 2009 Super Bowl Ads

2009-02-01T19:40:00.000-08:00

Drum roll please.

Because I'm not particularly loyal to any NFL teams, (when you have the Huskers in your life, why bother?) I generally keep a closer watch on the ads shown during the Super Bowl. Here, in no particular order, are the ads I feel are worth a special nod from "Thing 1 and Thing 2" this year.

Ad That Most Disgusted Me: Castrol Oil. One word . . . EWWWWWW! I'd rank this one up there with that debacle over the candy bar fiasco of last year's Super Bowl. Please . . . NO one wants to see a man and a chimpanzee smooch.

Ad That Most Helped Me Relate to Mrs. Potato Head: Bridgestone. Hilarious.

Ad With the Perkiest Character of All: Doritos . . . the first one to appear this evening. To refresh your memory, it was the "crystal ball" ad in which the employee predicts that the entire office will get Doritos for the day. His co-worker tries it out himself in hopes of predicting a raise in his future.

Ad That Reminded Me of "Groundhog Day" But Made Me Laugh Like "What About Bob?": Career Builder.com . . . Oh my gosh, I was cracking up harder each time I saw the woman behind the wheel start screaming.

Ad That Made My Sides and the Back of My Head Hurt From Laughing So Hard: Pepsi Max. Oh my gosh, I was crying. "My bad . . . No, I'm good . . . " I'm still laughing.

If you didn't watch the ads tonight, I apologize. This post meant absolutely nothing to you. If you DID watch, were you prepared with your 3D glasses? I never did find those anywhere . . . better luck next year.

Made In America . . . Or Not?

2009-01-31T18:59:00.000-08:00

Just when I thought I'd never open Thing 1's baby book and add anything more to the "funny things she said" section, I had a pretty good case of the giggles (silently, of course) with her in the car earlier today.

Upon spying a pink-hued pickup truck ahead of us, Cassidy remarked "There's that truck! We see that truck a lot!" And we do actually, or else several people in our town drive this exact same colored truck. (I'm guessing "not" on that theory. It is an interesting hue of pinkish/red.)

Anyway, as we got closer to the back of the truck, I heard Cassidy say: "Chevrolot."

"What?" I said. It clearly said Chevrolet, then I realized that Cassidy had mispronounced the name.

When I shard this with her and corrected the pronunciation, she repeated it as well.

"Chevro-LAY!!!! Oh, now I get it!" she said. "It's in French!!!!"

Happy Birthday To My Baby!

2009-01-27T20:23:00.000-08:00

Dear Cassidy,

I am so excited for you today as you celebrate your 10th birthday. As I kissed you good night last night and you reminded me that it would be the last time I would kiss you as a 9 year-old, a flood of memories washed over me. I can't believe that it's been 10 years since you first arrived in the world.

I won't ever forget the night before your arrival. The "experts" all say that babies move much less as their big arrival date approaches-that they run out of room for kicking, stretching and acrobatic maneuvers. You apparently missed out on that chapter of the book, as we were at Nanna's house and she and I watched you move, squirm, jab and roll from side to side. I was so ready to finally meet you! Nanna and I tried to guess when that day would actually take place. Little did we know that I'd be heading to the hospital just a few short hours later!

Did I ever tell you how many cameras Daddy brought to the hospital? Or how he and I sat through the night, listening to your heart beat and wondering if we'd be welcoming a son or a daughter into our lives? Did I ever tell you how calm Daddy was when he called all the grandparents to invite them to the hospital . . . that it "was time." Have I ever mentioned that as I was breathing through the contractions, Nanna arrived and in the midst of tears said to me, "My baby is having a baby." Oh, the memories . . .

You won't ever know the joy and happiness you have brought to our lives. I don't know who cried harder upon your arrival-you or me. Your cry was the sweetest sound to my ears. I'm told that it was matched only by the screams of joy from outside the room from your grandmothers and Auntie Happi-who made it in the nick of time for your birth. Those were some excited women-that's for certain!

And your Daddy? You have no idea, sweet girl! He fell in love with you, instantly. He was smitten from the first moment and proudly wore the new shirt emblazoned with "Cassidy's Daddy" that Grandma and Grandpa brought the next day to the hospital. (By the way, he is planning on wearing this to your high school graduation, so consider yourself warned!)

I am so proud of you, sweet girl! You bring so much joy and love to our lives each and every single day. I consider it an immense blessing and gift beyond my wildest dreams to be your mom. God is so good! I am thankful to Him every day for your life.

Happy Birthday, sweet daughter of mine! Enjoy your special day and thank you for making so very many of MY days more special than you can ever know!

I love you!
Love,
Mommy

Today's God Moment Is Brought to You Through Beth Moore

2009-01-21T13:08:00.000-08:00

So, I was supposed to start the brand new Beth Moore study, "Esther: It's Tough Being a Woman" last Wednesday.

Unfortunately, massive quantities of white stuff falling from the sky and sub Arctic temps caused us to delay the start of our study until today. At the time, I was so disappointed-as I'd been so excited about getting started with the new study. What I didn't know at the time, was that she had a very timely message for us today.

As I drove to church, I listened to all the commentary surrounding the events of yesterday. I'm not EVEN going there people.

I got seated at a table, glanced at the TV and saw the frozen picture of the Capitol on the screen. Figuring that there might have been a previous group in the room watching the big event, I waited for things to begin. After opening with prayer, our leader hit the play button, and images of historic landmarks came across the screen. I waited-figuring that there must have been a mistake and that the wrong DVD was in the player. I didn't anticipate the next scene . . . Beth Moore speaking to us from our nation's capital.

Fast forward to the next scene . . . a replica of the "Oval Office." It seems that the chosen set for Beth's new study was to be of where our US president presides in the White House.

I was a little confused. The oval office? Weren't we studying Esther? How did this fit in?

If there's a way for Beth to get in someone's face via a DVD player, then trust me people. SHE DID!!!

As she acknowledged the fact that we are in changing times (when did she tape this????), she encouraged us to remember that no matter who sits at that desk, God can come through the door of that office any time and use anyone for His glory." (Can I get an amen, people?)

We all cheered.

At the conclusion of the lesson, the scene shifted to a shot of Beth standing in front of the White House and she left us with the following words:

"God Works Out Everything. You'll see!"

And for that, I am praising Him today!!!!

I'm Dreaming

2009-01-19T09:59:00.000-08:00

Someday . . .

I know I will plant flowers in this urn again.

And the grass WILL be green. And there WILL be leaves-instead of snow on the trees.

And someday I will learn to check for 2-hour delays BEFORE I dash out of the house to take Thing 1 to school.

Rats.

Note to Jody . . . Quit your laughing. I can hear you from up here.

The Wacky World of Retail

2009-01-18T15:15:00.000-08:00

Ah Sunday . . . a day of rest, although if there's a four year-old around . . . well, not so much.

After Gregg departed for the great outdoors in search of more firewood, I decided to venture out with the Things. With the impending craziness of weekend schedules coming up, I decided to try and get some stuff checked off of my to-do list now, rather than later. First stop? Target. We went off in search of Valentines because you moms KNOW that making this purchase without your children along will result in purchasing the "wrong" ones.

After picking up other items I needed, we ventured to the Valentine aisle.

No luck. In place of all things bearing hearts, various shades of pink and Cupids were items for the outdoor deck and patio. Not a box of tear-apart cards or conversation hearts were in sight.

Thing 2 piped up, "Mommy, why don't you just ask someone???"

Great idea. She's going to make her future husband a very happy man some day-imparting this great advice. Ask someone. Why didn't I think of that?

I found a friendly woman sporting a name tag on her red shirt.

"Uhm, we can't seem to find the Valentine section. Can you tell me where it is?"

She looked at me like I'd just asked her for her social security number, PIN number and password to access her Facebook account. I backed away.

"We don't HAVE a Valentine section . . . it's WAY too early for that." With that, she turned and continued hanging up swimsuits.

Hmmm . . .

Is it just me or did anyone else notice CHRISTMAS trees on sale in SEPTEMBER just a few months ago???????

Onward and upward. Incidentally, there's some nice patio furniture out there to purchase . . . if it's not too early, of course, to be buying that kind of stuff.

In the meantime, if any of you find some nice Hello Kitty or Jonas Brothers Valentine cards in a box, do let me know. And if you happen to be a lucky person who actually needs some new patio furniture at this moment, I'd rather not know. Some things are just better left alone.

Just When You Thought it Was Safe To Read the Blog Again . . .

2009-01-16T07:42:00.000-08:00

Below is an excerpt of a phone call made from my house yesterday:

"Hello? Uhm yes . . . our dog, Sadie, is a patient of yours over there and if you people have a list of the weirdest things eaten by your patients, I'd like to add one to the list . . . and also find out if I need to bring her in to be seen." (I know they're probably recording the call as we speak and that the doggy version of "DCFS" is on their way over to my house any moment.) I continued on.

"You know those Duraflame logs? Uhm, she ate one." (nervous laughter) "Well, actually she ate a half of one-a starter log," quickly adding, "I've already read the package and it says that the ingredients are all natural."

Silence. (I know that the vet hates me right now.)

Finally, the nice lady who hates me breaks the silence.

"Did you say, Duraflame log? Like the kind you put in a fireplace or firepit?"

"Uhm, yes."

The good news is that Sadie appears to be fine. The bad news is that we have yet to see the result of eating this odd delicacy. That and the fact that it's -18 degrees outside right now-not exactly the kind of weather in which one can just wait patiently on a dog's bodily functions. (I'm feeling queasy again. Blech.) Anyhoo . . .

Yep-pretty darn blasted cold. I'm loving the wood burning stove right now!! The candles on my mantle though . . . not so much.

I'm thinking that the candles won't survive the mantle this winter.

If you need further evidence as to how cold it is, I give you "Thing 2."

All bundled up and nowhere to go-except perhaps to venture out and see if Sadie will . . . well, you know. Just kidding!!! Don't send hate mail, people-there's no way I'd send my kids out on a day like today. Walking the dog is a job for a grown-up.

I wonder if Gregg's coming home for lunch today . . . .

And We're Back . . .

2009-01-15T06:42:00.000-08:00

Sort of.

For those of you just joining us, welcome! It's good to have you here! This blog, "Thing 1 and Thing 2" was formerly located at the site of "Poppopalooza." Sadly, the site met its demise and I am technically starting over with my blog.

Because I've been actively blogging for nearly a year however, everything old is new again. Or at least, it will be for you newbies-which sadly will mean a lack of appreciation for all things squirrel or chipmunk related. I'll try and explain those issues along the way. In the meantime, check out the "About Me" section located in the sidebar. Those are the basics you need to know.

For my regular readers (all two of you), thanks for following me over here. To say I was disappointed about the breakdown/meltdown/disintegration of the former site would be a huge understatement. But . . . life goes on and gets documented elsewhere. Like here.

To recap the events of the week ('cause I know you've been on the edge of your seats waiting), here's what you missed: snow falls from sky, search for missing gloves belonging to Thing 1, more snow falls, gloves are found and I do the happy dance, more snow falls, watch the snow, shiver a little, add another layer of clothing, watch more snow fall, feel smug knowing that I DON'T need to go to the grocery store due to blizzard warnings and wonder how many thousands of people ARE at the grocery store at that moment, field phone call from hubby who inquires as to the possibility of stomach medicine available back at home, wipe smug smile from face as I head to the grocery store along with the thousands of other people, arrive back at car with medicine and realize I must remove snow from car again, listen to Thing 2 ask me no less than 193 times if Daddy is going to throw up, request quiet from back seat while I attempt to back out and avoid running over thousands of other people, drive home while starting to feel nauseous myself, listen to Thing 2 ask more vomit questions, slide through final intersection before turning onto my street, approach driveway to see that husband has already arrived home from work, reach for newly purchased can of Lysol and help the Things out of the car, drag Things inside house along with a fresh snow drift from outside our door, and repeat all steps in the process for the next several days . . . thankfully minus the ill husband part. Whew.

That story was SO worth starting up a brand new blog, wasn't it? Aren't you glad you stopped in?