Mindy's profileFive of UsPhotosBlogListsMore  |  Tools Help |
|
February 28 I've done it again.How many times will I go through this process before I give up on taking a poinsettia home from church, nursing it through February, and arriving in March only to find myself with a very dead poinsettia surrounded by crunchy, whithered leaves? I walk into this after-Christmas tradition with the best intentions--I will water it with my other plants, I will pay specific attention to its light and water needs, I will not forget that plants require regular care--and yet every year, I end up in the same place: Dead Poinsettia-ville. They are such pretty plants. Unfortunately, they were not meant for me to enjoy other than in the displays at grocery stores and the steps of the platform at church. My grandmother could keep a poinsettia alive until the following Christmas. She attended to their needs and nurtured them through the driest months...and here I am, not three months later (OK, just three months later) with 2 dead plants in my garbage can. What is wrong with me?
It amazes me that I can keep my children clothed and fed and somewhat happy, and yet I can't keep a stupid plant alive. Of course, the plant doesn't yell at me from the other room, "Mom!! I'm starving!! I'm going to die if I don't get something to eat RIGHT NOW!!" Now there's an invention: a moisture-sensing pot which will sound an alarm when the moisture level gets below a certain level. I would remember to water a plant that yelled at me. Of course, I would consider throwing the pot through the window each time it went off...but it's a convenient invention, isn't it?
Really, I don't know what my problem is. All of my plants are whithered right now. The Poinsettias are done for. It's over for them. Goodbye, dear plants. We'll try again next year. February 26 Nails, Hair, Scrapping and Staying Up All NightWhen was the last time you pulled an all-nighter?
On Friday night, much to our dismay (not really), we looked at the clock on the nightstand in our hotel room and realized 3:00 had come and gone. 3:00am!!! How does that happen?? I'll tell you how: put yourself in a hotel room with three of your best friends, two of whom live far away from you (or 3 if you're one of those friends) and you haven't seen them in possibly 2 years, throw in a bit of overwhelm, a touch of panicked parenting, a few marital discouragements, a heaping helping of female emotion, and you set yourself up for an entire night of chatter...friendly, helpful, soul-searching, secret-baring, painfully honest conversation. Did any of us walk away with our "problems" solved? No, probably not. Did it feel darn good to have those problems aired out? You'd better believe it.
We all colored our hair, did our nails, scrapped to our hearts' content, ate awful food, watched silly movies, showered late, slept when we felt like it, reheated chocolate to dip our pretzels in, and took our time deciding where to go to dinner. We didn't cut up someone else's food even once (although I think each of us would probably admit we really missed our children in the scheme of things), and we didn't have to get out of bed to take anybody to the potty at 3 in the morning. No dishes, no laundry, no dusting. Of course, our room...oh my goodness...you can't even imagine. It so didn't matter. I felt so very spoiled (and a tiny bit guilty in the process). Phew. I needed that.
There is something about being away from reality for two full days that soothes the soul. No matter what you walk back into when you get home, those two days refresh your sense of who you are and what you're doing. And they remind you that despite the time you have not invested recently in your friendships, your friends still love you, they still support you, and they're going to pray for you through the thick and thin of it. I am so thankful for the girls I was with. Next year when we go...I think we should go somewhere with a hot tub. :) February 22 MobileMy computer is now mobile. My wireless card we bought crazy cheap on ebay came in the mail today, so I can take this silly laptop anywhere I want to and do whatever I want with it. If I want to take it in the back room, I can. If I feel like taking it to my bedroom, I will still have internet service. If I want to sit at the kitchen table away from the noise of the tv after Seth has fallen asleep in front of it, I can sit and think and plan for school...well, I have that option. It's nice. Silly. But nice.
I'm sitting in front of the tv tonight watching "my shows." Do you have shows? I have 5: Crossing Jordan, Grey's Anatomy, Men in Trees, House, and ER. What stinks about my shows is that 3 of them are on the same night--two at the same time. Pitiful. My poor husband can't watch "his shows" (you know, anything involving war or weapons, choppers, dirty jobs or tractor trailers) while two of mine are on because I'm recording both of them on the dvr and our unit can only handle two things at a time. How pitiful is that, though? Seriously? I mean, it's better because I only have to watch it for about 40 minutes instead of 60...thank heavens for the dvr...but for goodness sake, what is worth that kind of time? What if I spent 5 hours a week planning for school for the kids? Realistically, I probably spend 3. And if you add the extra time throughout the week...well, maybe I get 4 in there. 5 hours in front of the tv. Unreal.
I've never thought of it that way before.
Ugh. I'm tired.
Tomorrow. I can't wait for tomorrow. We're leaving somewhere around noon. For two days of girl time. And I will not be blogging useless information. Or any information for that matter. I'm taking my computer, but not to blog. It has pictures on it, for goodness sake. If I run out of pictures (ha!!), I can upload some more to Walmart in Erie and I can have more pictures in an hour. :) I like technology. Some days.
I need to sleep. And to turn off the stupid tv. And to forget it exists for that matter. The washer is now finished spinning (so I can now hang some necessary clothing to dry for the weekend), so I'm going to bed. Have a great weekend, my friends. I hope you have some enjoyable moments. Write about them! I'll look forward to reading them. I don't know that I'll be writing about mine (hee hee), but I'll look forward to yours. :) What do they say about Vegas? Does it apply to Erie? (Who am I kidding?)
I just walked in the door from working out at my parents and I sit here in serious guilt. When I left my parents' house after letting out the dogs and working out (thank heavens for gracious parents with great home gyms!!) their cat escaped. Now, the cat goes out--that's not the issue--the issue is that it's 28 degrees outside, and the cat will now be out until 8:00 tomorrow morning. I'm not going back in an hour to see if she's had her fill of outdoor living. It's 10:57pm!! Thus, the guilt. Mom and Dad, if you're reading this from your camper in North Carolina, I'm very, very sorry. Poor Max is going to be cold tonight. I'll be there bright and early to let her freezing paws back in the house.
Guilt has an interesting place in my life lately. And yet, I can't seem to escape that which causes the guilt. We have taken vacation from school this week because the school district takes the week off, and I try to give the kids the option of play dates and relaxation while their friends are available and relaxing themselves, but I forget how many of their friends go out of town for these vacations...we have a playdate tomorrow, and I watched Emily and her sister Hannah today, but other than that, it's been a quiet week. Very quiet. The kids have played and watched videos and played and watched more videos, and played...and I've done my own thing. Caught up on Ugly Betty online (oh, yes, very worthwhile waste of time...), downloaded pictures from my camera to empty it and upload to my blog, organized my scrapbooking supplies for the weekend, balanced the checkbook, downloaded new programs to balance the checkbook, checked the computer for viruses, downloaded new anti-virus software, chatted with a "friend" I haven't heard from since high school, ran a bunch of errands because I could finally run errands, talked with a couple of friends on the phone...have you noticed how few of these things have involved the kids? I have serious guilt over this. I look around the house, at all the things I could be doing around the house, and I look at the kids playing so beautifully together without me, and I rationalize..."I need a break from school and them as much as they need the break from school and me," I think. "Next week, I'll plan a great week of school, and we'll get back into a routine of playing and working and living. This is our down time." Yeah, except that for the past three weeks, I've been saying the same thing, and when the week starts, we fall right back into the let's-get-done-what-has-to-get-done-and-then-let's-get-on-with-life mentality. That deadline for the brochure for church brought serious distraction into schooling for a while. We got done exactly what needed to get done. Period. Now that's over, and I can't get my brain back to where it needs to be. And I have guilt!! It's like I know darn well what I need to do, but I can't drag myself to a place where I can or will do it!! And yes, I do know that guilt is not from God. And that I impose this upon myself, and cause it all by myself, and if I know what I should do about it, then I should just do it!! But the not doing it, and what I get to do when I don't do it...that's what's hard to move past.
This weekend, I'm taking a trip with three of my girlfriends and we're getting away. A year and a half ago, I went to a writer's conference in Indianapolis all by myself and came back completely refreshed and rejuvenated and ready to tackle my life again. I was happier, and more relaxed, and my kids and husband all noticed a difference. I am hoping for that experience this weekend. There is something to be said for a few moments away from staying home with your school-aged kids 24/7...though I know this weekend in itself will not change my actual behavior--I know that's a choice--I think a couple of days of just grown-up, be-with-the-girls, escape-responsibility-time will recharge my batteries and make me a better mommy.
But there is a deeper truth here. Being away may recharge my batteries. This is true. But what I do when I get home will really make or break the experience. If I crawl back into this routine I've been in...I will have chosen to glean nothing from all of the wonderful escaping. If I come home and do something about it...that will be the key. My kids deserve it. They certainly don't deserve this week.
I still have two days... February 19 My truck...sits in my driveway tonight. The inspection has dramatically run out (like a year ago), and it still needs an oxygen sensor, but I have it back. It is driveable. It is mostly paid for. It is wonderful.
I am no longer housebound. I can get groceries whenever I want to. I can take my kids to gymnastics without having to ask my parents to drive their truck for the afternoon. I can run to the library to return books before they are overdue. If I want to schedule a doctor's appointment for the kids, I can base the time upon when it will work for my schedule, not when I can get a car. Interestingly, I did not take this for granted before (as this is the third time I have been without a vehicle for an extended period of time in the past 2 years, and I learned not to take this for granted that first time), but any time it happens, it serves as a reminder of that for which I must be grateful.
I am so grateful. Four months is a very long time.
February 14 A momentOK, I just had one of those moments where I was standing in front of the sink with a pot of noodles in my hand, pouring them into the collander in the sink, and one of the noodles remained in the bottom of said pot. I literally had to catch myself with my other hand on the way to the bottom of that pot (which I had just pulled off the stove, and whose water was still boiling--liiterally--it was bubbling!!) in order to keep from grabbing the noodle to throw it in the collander.
Have I just turned stupid over the past 8 years? I mean, seriously, this is not the first time something like this has happened!! There have been two times since Christmas I can think of that I have come within centimeters of grabbing the rack in the oven with my bare hands to pull it out and change its placement. I dropped a candle out of the china cabinet (it was a floating candle with a glass thingy around it) and it bounced off the shelf part and shattered, and as the pieces flew around, I started grabbing for them when I suddenly realized, "Umm, duh. Those are shards of glass I'm grabbing." Two weeks ago, I took the spaghetti sauce off the stove (which had been simmering for 2 1/2 hours), brought it over to the table to set it on a hot pad (yes, very formal dinners here in the Frazer household), and I set it down right on my hand, which was still putting down the hot pad. I have the burn marks to prove my stupidity on this one.
Where is my brain?
Do we just have so much going on sometimes that the "so much" takes over where the "what's happening right now" should be? Is my brain on something else, or am I seriously just getting dumber? I used to joke that you lose half of your brain with each child you have, and that you get some back if you have more than two. HA! The losing it part is true. That I know for sure. The getting it back part? Maybe not so much. And I thought placenta brain was bad!! Really, all of the above are just good excuses for the truth:
I'm getting dumber. On a daily basis. My poor children.
One of these days, my kids are going to call my husband and tell him to come home from work because Mommy needs to go to the hospital. He's going to come home and find me twisted up in the washing machine in the middle of the spin cycle or something. I'm just warning you, I won't be blogging any more after that. You'll know why. Snow BlanketI stand at my kitchen counter this morning, enveloped by the smell of brewing caramel truffle decaf, the sound of laughter erupting from my family room, the sight of Chani turning in circles, getting ready to curl up in a ball in her doggie bed, desperately trying to regain a couple of degrees of lost body heat from her last tromp through the foot of snow in the back yard. Winter officially arrived last night in the form of an inch of snow an hour. By 10am, the plows had only shown up maybe twice, so the road had nearly as much snow as the sidewalks and driveways. As I ventured out of bed at 7:30 (it's a snow day, after all), I heard Mark's snowblower idling next door, and by the time we got downstairs, he had moved on from his sidewalk to the end of our driveway...where Seth always parks. Thanks, Mark. It's only 12 degrees outside...not weather I'm looking forward to braving to make sure Seth has someplace to park. I will have to shovel again before evening, but at least it will only be the snow since 7:45...rather than the twelve inches before that plus the snow since 7:45.
Snow. Finally.
It's not so much that I love the cold. Truth be told, 80 degrees most of the time sounds completely wonderful, barring excess humidity of course. At the same time, there is no more peaceful feeling than standing in the middle of your back yard while the snow falls in silence...like if you listened really carefully, you could hear the flakes sparkle as they float through the air. And seriously, how do you beat snuggling in front of a movie with your kids in the evening with steaming hot chocolate and real popcorn because they have fully exhausted themselves throughout the day ramming through the snow banks, digging tunnels through the huge pile of shoveled driveway snow by the gas lamp, stacking buckets full of snow on the dog (the big one), and running from one end of the yard to the other? You don't. A week's vacation in the Bahamas doesn't compare to those moments. February 11 Two Seven-Year-OldsI officially sort of own two seven-year-olds. Today at 7:05 pm, Lainie turned 7. She ran around my house this morning yelling, "I'm seven, I'm seven, I'm seven!!" in her adorable sing-song way (she is the kid who puts everything to music, and makes it sound great)...later she and Reasa commented that they wished they were twins because everyone thinks they are anyway (and it doesn't help any that for 27 days out of every year, when you ask them how old they are, they both say "Seven."). They used to balk when people asked if they were twins, "We're NOT twins," they would pout (especially Reasa). "We're eleven months apart." If you don't think it's funny for a three-year-old to say this to a perfect stranger from her seat in the back of a Wal-mart shopping cart, you should have watched from where I was standing. I giggled many times and shook my head. As the years have passed, they have stopped commenting so much. They go through their twinnie phases--wanting to dress alike, wanting their hair the same, wanting the same dolls and presents and shoes. They've also gone through their "I don't want to look like twins" stages too--Reasa most recently, actually. When she cut her hair this past fall, it became very evident that she wanted her own thing. Now, they're both growing their hair back out, they're comparing notes about their wardrobe selection each morning, they're sharing shirts (not pants yet...Lainie doesn't eat enough to be the right waist size yet), they're deciding what they're getting for their birthdays together so that they can play most effectively...You never really know what kind of day it's going to be...we want to be twinnie or we don't...but every day is interesting, that's for sure. It struck me tonight how much Lainie has grown up over the past year when we took her shopping for her birthday present...typically, Seth and I make a trip out alone for the kids' presents and we make a big deal of choosing just the right thing based upon what they have told us they want (because there has been a list in the work for months by that point). This week was a complete wash for trying to get out to do that. Between preparing for her party, having a normal week, having a deadline approaching for the brochure I'm working on for church, and Lainie having no idea what she wanted for her birthday (other than "Holly Hobbie stuff!!!" which you can't find anywhere, by the way), we just decided we would take her all together and that Bryson and Reasa could choose gifts for her while she chose gifts for herself (plus, she got to spend her birthday money from her grandparents...she was one rich little girl tonight!!). So after her crazy, insane "friend party" this afternoon, complete with 13 sugar-charged little girls (and a couple boys so Bryson wouldn't feel completely insane), we had dinner with the family and headed to Toys R' Us and Target. She had such a good time finding things to buy...and figuring out how much money she still had to spend, and in what combinations she could spend that money...I was a very proud mommy with all that adding and subtracting going on. :) When we got to Target, she had only $10 left, and she knew what she wanted: a pair of gauchos and a shirt. :) She is her mother's daughter--a whole outfit for 10 bucks. She headed straight for the clearance racks and began pouring over the contents. She immediately pulled out a pair of gauchos and said, "They're $6.98, Mom. So I have 3 dollars to spend on a shirt, right? Can I find a shirt for 3 dollars, Mom?" Hmm...not likely I'm thinking, but let's try. So, we went through all six 2-sided racks over and over, finding everything in a 6, and she finally decided to put the gauchos back because she found this adorable magenta sequined shrug that she just HAD to have. And I reminded her that she didn't have a shirt to go under it, and she would really need a white or something shirt to wear with it. So, we found this adorable ivory tank...sweater: $3.24. Tank top: $2.24. "But Mommy, I really wanted a pair of gauchos to wear with this..." Uh-huh. So, we're scouring the racks again, and I actually found a pair (I knew she would hate) for $4.98...no go. So, I ask her how much she has left. "About five dollars." Then I ask her what she wants to do..."I really want those olive gauchos, Mom," she says...why does my child know they're olive?? Why does she know that olive and magenta and ivory actually all go together (and they really do--it's adorable)(it's disgusting)? So, I walked over and I pulled them off the rack, only to hear, "But Mommy, that's more than $10. I can't get it, remember? It's too much." At which point, I handed them to her, and said, "Let's go find your daddy. I think we can handle two dollars too much when it means you got three pieces of clothing that you love." She just beamed. Like I made her life. Like she couldn't wait to get to church tomorrow morning in her adorable outfit with her new purse from her friend Erin and her lip gloss (which she swiped from one of the purses I'm not using right now). Ugh. It's just unbelievable how quickly they go from wearing whatever you pull out for them to actually having an opinion about what they have in their closet!! When did this happen?? And speaking of making someone's life...she sat with me at least four different times today when I was either making something for her party or cleaning something up from her party and she said, "Thank you so much for all the stuff you are doing/did for my party today, Mommy. I just love it." And when I replied the last time that she was very welcome and that I just loved doing the stuff for her, she replied, "Oh, I'm so glad. You do the best stuff." What a heart that kid has. I am so grateful for each of them and for the blessing I have been given in each one of them...and for those moments. Sometimes we really feel like the stuff we slave over goes totally unnoticed. It didn't today. I'm tired to prove it, but I suppose that is the tiny price you pay. And whose fault is it that I'm sitting here at 1:24 in the morning blogging? By the way, if you have a horribly itchy rash all over your torso and arms for 7 days that isn't getting better (it's actually getting worse) and you're not sleeping at night, go see a doctor. Actually, go see the doctor after the 2nd day. It won't make you feel better right away, and you'll still itch for a while, but you might learn that what you have is not contagious, it's not allergen-related, and that you just need to take a lot better care of your skin...then you will start feeling better, and you'll start sleeping again. Still waiting on the feeling better and the sleeping thing...but hopefully the effects of the prednisone on my body will wear off by Monday or so (super high-strung, lots-of-energy me...because, you know, I'm not high-energy without 3 days of prednisone, right??) and the steroid cream I'm putting on will make the itching stop a bit more. It's Xerosis, which basically just means seriously, seriously dry skin. The kicker came when I realized that my face (which I cleanse and moisturize morning and night) was just fine...hmmm. Yeah. I don't wish this upon anyone. Itching...I never realized how awful it could be. Until I itched for over a week. And itched so much I couldn't sleep. And now, with that said, I'm going to go up and try. :) With my beautiful children sleeping on the floor of my bedroom near me (it's Saturday night after all...no one has to get up early tomorrow. Sleepover!!). And two of them seven-year-olds. February 03 Pray, please...Last year, about this time, I had asked all of my friends and family to pray for a friend of ours...at 16, he was battling through cancer (and I don't know the details about his cancer other than that it was "a melanoma", but it progressed rapidly towards the end). He was the oldest of 4 kids, the son of a couple who attended our church in Rochester, and his father was my brother's Chemistry teacher in high school. He was the best friend of my sister-in-law's brother Jon. An amazing kid, an amazing family, a situation very much used by God...but in the end, he didn't make it. He passed away July 12...he was a junior in high school. Though devastated, the family has been healing.
And an aside...a totally off-the-wall, random thought...Tide To Go pen. Get one. Put it in your purse. Put one in every purse. Seriously. It's worth the $3. Kid-grease-be-gone. February 01 Worship mode...We are singing a new song for worship this weekend and the words really resounded with my soul tonight...one of the many advantages of being on the worship team is that I see and hear all the new music before anyone else does, and I get at least 3 or 4 days to reflect on the songs before anyone else even gets to hear them. I think too often, I don't really think about the worship we're doing...I tend to stand up there and sing, loving the sound of our worship, focusing on the songs, rather than the One I am worshipping. I am not desperate, as this song speaks of, or at least I forget that I am. This song is my prayer over the next three days as I prepare for a different worship experience this weekend...I thought I would share the words with you so that you might get a jump start on Sunday too. And maybe it won't strike a chord with you as it has with me...but it might.
Hear Us From Heaven
(Jared Anderson)
Lord hear our cry
Come heal our land
Breathe life into these dry and thirsty souls
Lord hear our prayer
Forgive our sins
As we call on your name would you
make this a place for your glory to dwell
Open the blind eyes
Unlock the deaf ears
Come to your people
As we draw newar
Hear us from heaven
Touch our generation
We are your people
Crying out in desperation
Lord hear our song
Your children worship
As we sing out your praise would you
make this a place for your glory to dwell
Open the blind eyes
Unlock the deaf ears
come to your people
As we draw near
Hear us from heaven
Touch our generation
We are your people
Crying out in desperation
Hear us from heaven
Hear us from heaven |
|
|
