Now I Know How Mary and Joseph Felt

... except nobody here is "great with child." And they didn't drive a Jeep.

I am referring to their long and uncomfortable journey to get to "Christmas."

I have parked the family sleigh/donkey and I am NOT moving it again.

(Well. We do have the Christmas Eve service tonight.)

The boy and I have been over the river and through the woods and on the interstate and in the car and in the fast food joints and in the gas station bathrooms and listening to Christmas music on the radio since last week.

I think if I had to look at the highway stretching out in front of me for one more second... I might do something not nice. Or say something not nice at all.

And I really don't think I could listen to Mariah Carey sing about all she wants for Christmas ONE. MORE. TIME. Really, Mariah. All I want for Christmas is for that song to never be played again.

There was a purpose to our traveling madness.
We visited Dan's family in Florida for Christmas, and a good time was had by all. We opened too many gifts and ate too many sweets, and the boy had a grand time playing with Dan's cousin. I know there is a camera around here somewhere with all the photographic evidence. I just have to find it. Preferably before tomorrow.

We also made a quick stop to stay a night in Atlanta with my brother, sis-in-law, and nephew.

Now, we are home, and I am determined to stay in my PJ's and in my house for the next 48 hours. Until we hit the road again to see my family.

(I probably WILL get out of my PJ's for that chapel service. They would appreciate it if I showered.)

So until then, my schedule is packed. I have a few movies to watch and some random gifts to wrap and a nap to take. I haven't blogged in so long that I just realized I haven't even posted my birthday festivities pictures.

Where does the time go? Where did 2009 go? Now I sound like a granny.

By the way, Twinkles and Sparkles (or Adam and Gaga) are together at last. They have been lighting up the front yard the whole time we've been gone.

Merry Christmas Eve.

A Tale of Two Deer

It all started innocently enough. It always does.

The boy wanted more Christmas lights in the yard. "More" meaning brighter and tackier and flashier.

It doesn't help that we live in a neighborhood that would make Clark Griswold tear up and cry with jealousy. These people have some serious holiday lighting going on.
I don't know how they pay their power bills.

It makes our tasteful garland and tiny trees look just, well... downright scrooge-ish.

So in hopes of not disappointing the boy whose dad is 9000 miles away at the holidays and who deserves the bestest Christmas ever... (Can you tell I replay that over and over and over in my mind 85 times a day?)

We needed to buy more lights.

And reindeer.

You see... our good friends have an adorable little reindeer. He lights up and looks so sweet in the front yard. I start thinking,
"I can have a sweet little reindeer on my front lawn too!"

So I loaded up my single-mommy guilt and the boy and we headed out to tackify the yard.

First stop was the K. Where my friend purchased her reindeer. Where I promptly returned almost everything we picked out. Did you know that the "K" is much more expensive than the "W"? I had heard the rumors, but I rarely shop there. So... into the return line went our overpriced holiday decor.

(I will not even begin to discuss the "T" store. It is in a league all its own.)

And on to the big "W" I went. They had (almost) the exact same reindeer for $10 less.

So we bought two.

A boy and a girl. Or, a buck and a doe.

When we got home and unloaded our loot, we immediately sat down in the floor to put our little LED friends together.

I give you... the girl deer...



After putting her together, we made an unfortunate discovery.

Our little buck had no head.

He had a body, he had glittery antlers, he had a cute little tail.

He even lit up.

With no head.

It was just wrong.
So... Back into the box we crammed him. Back to the "W" he went.

The day I returned/exchanged him also happened to be my birthday. While others lounge at the spa or jet off to Paris for their birthday, I stand in line at the Mart and return a headless deer. Speaks volumes, don't ya think?

My deer-owning friend called me to wish me a happy birthday, and I told her what I was doing. She told me that HER deer was also experiencing technical difficulties. It's head wasn't lighting up anymore. Goodness. It's not a good year to be a plastic light-up Christmas deer.

So I suggested our deer get should get together, and that sparked another not-entirely appropriate conversation about Adam Lambert and Lady Gaga.

So now we have a new buck. He will be joining his doe as soon as we can get him put together.



And don't feel too sad for me... I had a GREAT birthday. There were phone calls and gifts and 2 meals out and cake... and more of that later. Everone should go to the Mart on their birthday. It'll keep you humble.

And I will post pictures of our holiday grandeur very soon.

As for the deer? The boy wants to name them Twinkles and Sparkles. I'm thinking Adam and Gaga.

Starting the Holiday Season... Take 2

If you are a friend of mine, or if you are a faithful blog reader, you know I didn't have the best "kick off" to "HOLIDAYS 2009." It all started with a cel phone in the washing machine and a 3 hour mini-vacation/come-to-Jesus meeting/why in the hoo-nanny do they do all this construction?/dead stop on I-85. NOT good times.

I am happy to report that (once we got there), things improved.

We had a nice Thanksgiving Day...



Turkey was consumed.



Football was played.



Cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents were visited.









Everyone (and I mean everyone!) got to chat with their favorite soldier... who called right before lunch. We passed the phone around, said the blessing, and then ate like piggies. After lunch, Uncle Tom tortured (drove) the boy and his cousin, Jacob. He took them over to see the stadium where the game was gonna be played the next day. Uncle Tom is an Auburn fan, and the two boys are Alabama fans, and they all had a great time harassing each other.

Then, it was time to hit the road (Lord save me) again.

On to South Carolina to celebrate with my family...

It is a much smaller crowd, but no less chaotic.


There was wild wrestling and running around.









There was also lots of eating... just not turkey. We all went to one of our favorite Italian restaurants... and ate like piggies.









The boy was able to tromp around the farm, do a little hunting, watch Alabama BARELY win the Iron Bowl, spend time with his grandparents, and run around the house with his cousin, Noah, like a wild banshee. (What is that, anyway?)

I hit the Black Friday sales with my sis-in-law and brother. The only grumpy/pushy person we encountered all day was my own brother. He actually didn't get that way until Hobby Lobby. He said we were "taking too long" and that he wouldn't have felt that way if it weren't the "THIRD CRAFT STORE OF THE DAY." (Emphasis his.)

There is no such thing as too many craft stores in one day. Especially not when ribbon is 70% off. What does he know?

Now we are home and deep in the trenches of hauling out the holly. The Christmas craziness has begun. I think there are about 43 different events this weekend alone.

But I have enough ribbon.

How NOT to Start Your Holiday Season

Washing machine...



+
Laundry detergent...



+

1 Cel Phone... tucked away in the pocket of the jeans you want to go on your trip...




=
A trip to this place... Just hours before you should be leaving for the Thanksgiving holiday...




In case you were wondering:

1. Cel phones are not washable.

2. No. It wasn't time for the upgrade.

3. Yes. I did have the insurance. (Please, this is ME we're talking about here.)

4. I realized it when I opened the lid to take the clothes and toss them in the dryer.

5. No, I didn't put it in the dryer.

6. I am beginning to laugh about it now. 6 days later. Beginning.

Merry Thanks-Scarecrow-Turkey-Mas

I totally made that up, but I think it fits.

You see, there is a scarecrow sticking from a hay bale on my front porch. There's a pretty Fall-ish wreath on the door. There's a puknin out there too.

The Christmas CDs are out. The candles on the table are orange. There are some festive gourds in the fruit basket.

Giant Rubbermaid tubs sit half-opened by the garage door.

Thanksgiving is still 3 days away.

I haven't packed a single thing.

And the Christmas tree is up.

I'm having some holiday confusion and anxiety.

I always feel sad that our Christmas decorations go up, and then we go a-traveling. And I don't get to see them very much. So this year, the tree went up early.

I'm trying to convince the boy that we need to wait to put out EVERYTHING else.

'Cause when you go out of town for Thanksgiving and you are the owners of a particularly bad-mannered and devious cat... well...

Let's just say the wise men and nutcrackers deserve better.

She's already yanked some poor little snowman off the tree 895,629 times. By his raggedy little scarf. And the tree's only been up 48 hours.

Here's hoping your turkey fixins are ready and that you bought enough food.

I was at The Mart this morning, and it wasn't pretty.

God bless us, every one. Especially snowman ornaments.

In the Elementary School 'Hood

We ran some errands after school today.

A haircut for the boy.

A caffeine shot for me.

A stop at the post office.

The. Longest. Lines. Ever. (Not just today. Every day.)


One post office on base + a zillion people mailing packages to a zillion deployed soldiers + renovation and construction at said post office = HEADACHE.

Anywho... while we were there, we saw a teacher from the boy's school. She needed help with a HUGE box because she's pregnant. I lifted her box for her, and trust me. She would have popped that baby out right there if she'd lifted it.

So when we get back in the car, 57 hours later, I say to the boy,

"I didn't know Ms. Teacher was pregnant."

He says, "I did."

I say, "How did you know?"

He says, "My friend told me. She knew. She probably heard it from so-and-so who told it to so-and-so."

I say (laughing), "Ya'll are nosy." (Which is SO true of my son.)

He says, "That's the way 4th Graders roll."

Word to my home dog 9 and 10 year-olds.

Our Veteran

I have to confess that I used to think all veterans were old men. Old men who wore 3-piece suits and stood up in church to be recognized on certain Sundays of the year.

Boy oh boy, was I wrong. And naive. And we'll just chalk it up to my young age.

Now I know the truth.

And now... I'm married to one!

But...
I know veterans who aren't even 25 yet.

I know girl veterans.

Single veterans.

Veterans with degrees and veterans fresh out of high school.

Veterans with one "tour" and veterans with too many to list.


I know families who wish they had a veteran to honor this week.

I hope that we all would take more than a day to honor those who served. And those who are still serving.

PS... Yep. That's my skinny minny husband on the left up there. Gheez. I told him he wasn't allowed to come home weighing less than me.

Don't fret peoples... he will gain it ALL back. He always does. Two or three trips to Red Robin and Outback and he'll be back to his old self.

I even hesitated in posting this picture for fear of what his mother and grandmothers and aunts will say to me when they see it... "That poor little skinny thing!" ... "He's just wasting away!" ... "If he were here we could fatten him up!" ... "The Army should feed them better!"

If you ask me, I think if he's gonna be flying around in that tiny helicopter and standing on that narrow mountain... he's better off skinny.

One Week and 5 Days of Us

Merciful heavens. It has been awhile, people.

I am not about to make any excuse for my blogging lapse.

So here's a recap. In no order whatsoever. With no purpose or deep-seated meaning at all. Purely random. Like me.

1. Halloween was a sugar-infused blast of a good time. My mom and dad came up for the weekend, and I know they left tired. The boy went as a Dementor. "What's that?" you say. It happens to be an evil creature from "Harry Potter." It will chill the air around you as it sucks your soul from your body. Just precious for a chaplain's (ex-preacher's) son, don't 'ya think? So cute without the hood, too.





(By the way, I know that my husband is STILL a preacher. I just get a kick out of saying "ex-preacher.")

2. We went to Disney in Ice. Yep, Disney on Ice. Not at all related to Halloween, but equally as fun. There was a special event here for the children with deployed parents. The arena was FULL. The show was great. I sang along like nobody's business, Loud and proud... much to the dismay of some lady in front of me. I am a human catalog of memorized Disney songs, and I didn't disappoint.

The snow cone and cotton candy were $87.68, but the tickets were free. And did you know that Donald Duck can drive a Zamboni?





3. We have begun the process of getting braces on the boy's teeth. Therefore, no one is getting Christmas presents. Good grief. Have you priced a mouth full of hardware lately? It pains me, and it's paining our savings account.

4. I made a fool of myself at the McDonald's drive-in. What is it with me and fast-food drive-ins lately? Maybe it's God telling me to eat healthier. I misread a sign that named the winner of a contest. It said that Mary D. and Tom S. won $10,000. I thought it said that Mary D. Won and Tom S. Won won $10,000. See my mistake? I thought they both had the same last name... the last name "Won." They were both very non-Won looking. I had to laugh at myself. I was also wearing my sparkly witch hat at the time. I think that distracted everyone from my stupidity.

5. We have passed the 6 month mark in Dan's Army "vacation." It is a bit hard for me to fathom that 6 months have gone by since we saw him. Since he was home. Some days it feels so easy and manageable. Other days, it doesn't. I could go on and on and on. I could whine about being a single mother or being lonely or trying to make sure my son's ok... but I shouldn't. I know lots of single moms who get through life's challenges every day. I know that people can be lonely with a house full of family. And my son? He's doing great. We lean on each other and he's learning that God is the one seeing us through. I wouldn't trade that for anything.

6. I am enjoying the cool weather.

7. I want to kiss the person who invented "Fall Back." Seriously. Well... hug them. I just can't be kissing random people with my husband gone and all this swine flu going around.

8. I hate making holiday travel plans. It's that time of year again when I obsess over whether or not everyone is happy with the arrangements. I know, I know. It's not something to obsess over. But, it is what I do best. Besides feel guilty.

9. Bought myself a new American flag and a cool solar light to illuminate it at night. Ain't I patriotic?

10. I had a girls' night out while my parents were here to play with the boy. Some pals and I went to a yummy Italian place. We all ate steak. My good friend told our server to bring on the bread, meat and wine. A great meal and a good time.

Happy November, folks.

Trick or Treat?

Now if this doesn't put you in the Halloween spirit, I don't know what would.



Ain't she a happy camper?

I mean... Ain't she a happy obese elderly cat wearing a witch hat with groovy green hair?

Let the Halloween madness begin!

What HAVE I Been Doing?

There are times - on the phone - my husband will ask me, "What have you been doing?"

He doesn't mean it sarcastically... he KNOWS I have lots of things to keep me busy.

He doesn't say it to be mean or condescending... he KNOWS that raising the boy alone is as hard as being in a war zone. At times, it is a war zone.

He really just wants to know what activities we've filled our days with. What keeps us occupied.

And here lately... I have no idea.

I wake up, and before I know it... it's bedtime again.

It's all a blur.

A blur that looks a lot like a really cute, but tiring, 10 year-old.

And so I give you... a moment in my day, honey. Multiply this scene X 24 hours, and then you'll know exactly what I've been doing.


Monday afternoon. 3:32 pm.

The boy: "Beep. Beep. BEEEEEEEEEEEEP!"
"Ba-whooop. Ba-whooop."
"Bee-boo. Bee-boo."
"Oh-wee. Oh-wee. Oh-weeee-beepbeep."
"Bwap. Bwap. Bwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap. Bwap."

Me: "How in the world can you be doing homework while you're making all those robot noises?"

The boy: "It's just easy math; it helps me concentrate."

The boy: "And I like it."

(More various assorted noises and singing.)

The boy: "I'm watching you."

The boy: "With these two eyes."

Oh The Weirdness Of It All

Do you ever feel like you're on Candid Camera? (Did I just reveal my age?)

You know... do you ever feel like the things that are happening around you and to you are a huge practical joke? As if, at any moment, a host with big hair and a fake smile is gonna pop out and say,

"Surprise! You're on our new hidden camera game show!"

Last night, after AWANAS (kids' Bible clubs), I scooted through the Burger King drive-in to feed the boy. I wanted him to have a hot and nutritious meal before heading off to bed.

I pulled up to order, and the voice said,

"Welcome to Burger King. Can I take your order? We are all out of burger meat and steak-burger meat."

Turning to my little co-pilot, I said,

"Did she just say they were out of BURGER meat?"

"Yep," he said, "I think so."

"OK," I said, "I'll have a kid's chicken nugget meal, please."

As we "pull forward to the second window," I can't help but wonder just how many people came (like us) for a burger tonight. This place is on an Army base, folks. LOTS of young hungry soldiers... looking for food. And the line for the drive-thru is usually out the wazoo. Whatever that is.

At the window, as she took my money, I could not suppress my curiosity (or my mouth).

"Did you really say you guys were out of BURGER meat? As in, no BURGERS?"

"Yep," she said, "That's right."

I couldn't stop myself. The sarcasm rolled out faster than I could think...

"But this is 'BURGER' KING," I said.

I don't know how to put her reply into words. It was more of a sound. Like a groan and a grunt combined. She wasn't rude. She seemed to be wondering the same thing as me.

When is the hidden camera guy gonna pop out?

And by the way, did you know that some chickens produce nuggets in the shape of tiny little crowns?

Go BK, I say! If you're gonna run out of beef, at least you can serve us fancy royal nuggets.

Let's Just Say It's Only Been 10 Years

Whew.
I'm spent. Done.

We're back home after an extra long weekend at my parents' house, and you all know how much I love getting back to reality.

I had myself an excellent time at the reunion. It was amazing to see how GREAT everyone looked. And how we all turned into relatively normal adults. We laughed and talked and laughed and talked and no one broke a hip... we partied like it was 1989.

Except with mortgages and minivans and less hair on the dudes. And way less hair on us gals. We spent part of the evening wondering just why... back in the day... we felt it necessary to poof our hair up into the stratosphere. The hair was B I G, folks. Big. Huge.

Thank you, Lord, for some changes.

And thank you, Lord, for friends. Even after all these years, it felt like only yesterday that we were all 18. I went to school with these people from Kindergarten to Senior Year. They were like my family. And it feels like they still are.









The boy had himself a mighty fine weekend as well. He tromped around the farm behind my dad. He spent 3 whole days shooting at things, poking dead things with sticks, eating greasy hot dogs, eating an entire bag of Chick-o-Sticks, and riding his 4 wheeler. While I was at my reunion, he and his grandparents ordered pizza and rented a movie. Ahhhh... to be 10 again.

Or, 18.

Does This Shirt Match My Walker?

As I may have mentioned before, my high school reunion is coming up. "Up" as in, this weekend.

And I can tell you exactly what I've done to prepare myself to see these people I haven't seen since we were all MUCH younger.

Not. A. Thing.

That's right. Oh, I had plans, let me tell you. I was gonna drop a few pounds, get myself into kick-boxer shape, and get some Botox. Remember?

Instead, I got myself some germs. Germs that have pretty much incapacitated me for the last 10 days.

After 2 trips to the doctor, 2 flu tests, 1 strep test, one peak flow meter breathing test, one respiratory infection test that I SWEAR PULLED OUT BRAIN MATTER, 2 finger pricks, and 1 chest X-ray....

I have some kind of infection. Medical marvels.

I also have an antibiotic, some steroids for the whole breathing issue, and some mighty fine cough medicine. Translation... narcotics=sleep.

So I dragged my feeling better self out today to find the outfit. You know, the one that will make everyone say,
"Wow! You look great!"
"You haven't changed a bit since graduation!"
"You could pass for 21!"

Let me just pop your Class of '89 balloon right now and tell you... that outfit does not exist.

I may just settle for a new top or a pedicure.

And a puff of my inhaler to get me through the night.

My cousin, who also graduated the same year (and will be at the reunion), posted a great Facebook comment recently. He said we may need a doctor on hand Saturday night in case someone falls and breaks a hip. Oh my. Now that's funny.

But don't make me laugh too hard, 'cause I'll start coughing and then probably tinkle a little bit in my cute jeans.

Who Put Rocks in My Throat?

Happy October, Bloggity World.
Wish I felt more like celebrating.
You see... I have swallowed some rocks. Well, not really. It just feels like I did.
Mr. Army doctor said,

"It's not H1N1."
"It's not strep."
"It's congestion from... probably a virus. Your ears and nose and throat are all closed up."

Well, duh.
And, he failed to mention that some rocks have moved in down my throat.

On a much brighter note, we have had ourselves some genuine Fall-like weather. Thanks you, Lord. I was totally finished with that whole hot and humid summer stuff. Finished.

I put out some scarecrows and a hay bale on my front porch.
The guy at the farmer's market looked at me kinda odd when I asked him to load the hay for me.

I said, "My son and I are both allergic to hay."

I read his mind, and he was thinking, "Well then... dumb lady... why are you buying it?"

'Cause it looks darn cute on my front porch and I had to have something to stick my scarecrows into... they kept falling over.

I know what you're thinking... hay allergy=sore throat

Nope. The rocks were there long before the hay.

Now I just have to get well before next weekend. It's my ___th Year High School Reunion.
I am so excited to live close enough (for once!) to be able to go! A lot of us old timers have re-connected on Facebook, and I think it will be great to see everyone.

I have one week to lose 25 pounds, get some Botox, attempt to look 18 again, and get rid of this crud.

Something tells me it's gonna be a busy weekend.

Hey Little Boy, Ask Me Again Why I'm Tired

There's an area in our kitchen that is separate from the "food prep" area.

(I need a place to dump all assorted items of junk, and I like to use Food Network terms.)

You probably all know or have the type of area that I'm talking about. It's a section of counter covered in:
-school papers
-my calendar/organizer
-to do lists
-grocery lists
-bills to be mailed
-bills to be paid
-assorted pens and pencils
-stacks of stuff to mail to a war zone (well you may not have this)
-my purse
-a dirty coffee cup from ?day
-my camera
-coupons
-chapstick that fell out of my purse
-and whatever else happens to land there... which is where this story is heading...

On Wednesday night, I was turning out the kitchen lights and locking the doors in preparation for going upstairs. ('Cause once I'm up there, I'm not coming back down.)

I glanced over to my calendar (in this junk area) to check the next day's schedule to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything critical... like breakfast with my girlfriends or coffee with Jeanna, or a good sale at Hobby Lobby or saving the world...

And this is what I see.



Yep.
Those are grasshopper legs.

Placed lovingly there on the month of September for my personal enjoyment.

Plucked tenderly from a dead (I asked) bug in my yard.

(I do apologize for the poor photo quality... I was tired and it's hard to zoom in properly on bug legs.)

"Are these grasshopper legs on my planner?" (Stupid question.)

He answers, "Yep! They sure are!"

"Great. Now go upstairs and get in the shower."

I tossed those little legs in the trash and was instantly 135% more tired.

It's Not Really Stealing

There is a Texas girl's blog I enjoy reading. Sometime last week, she posted this "list" thingy, and I found it quite interesting. It's a list that reveals a lot about the blogger... some things trivial, some things not. I liked it, so I am stealing it. Not really. She said we could take the idea.

I received a comment once that suggested I don't blog about myself enough. Really? Brace thy selves.

I suppose I do write more about the boy then anything else. He's just far more entertaining than the rest of us. I can't blog too much about the husband right now...
1. He's not here to entertain us.
2. I might compromise national security and be arrested in the comfort of my own home.
The cats? They are sorry sacks of fur. One keeps me up at night meowing and the other one is trying to drive me to insanity by going poopie in the floor (inches from the litter box) on a regular basis. At least she's regular. But I do love them.

So, here's a glimpse into my world...



I am thinking that I should not have busted into that bag of Halloween candy just yet.

I think too much. Over-thinking is a curse.

I have a sore mouth from my new fangled-y night guard. It's supposed to keep me from grinding my teeth.

I wish I had a billion dollars. Seriously.

I hate picking up cat poopie.

I miss... oh please!

I fear watching people I love suffer. (Wow. That's a deep one. Sorry.)

I hear the fan from the stove still running from Lord only knows when. If that husband were here... he'd have shut that thing up a long time ago.

I smell my semi-cold coffee sitting in front of me. (Dear God, please don't let it fall into the keyboard. Again.)

I crave all things el Mexicano. And Spanish lessons, obviously.

I search for a way to drop 40 pounds without exercising. I hate it.

I wonder what my little boy will look like as a teenager. Hide your little girls.

I regret not doing more with my creativity. Out of laziness, out of fear, out of lack of motivation.

I love my bed. It's cozy. Bedtime is my favorite time of day.

I ache when I work in the flowerbeds. And I worry that my neighbors are looking at my fat behind all stuck up in the air.

I am not a good decision maker... especially the small insignificant ones. Big ones? Much better.

I believe in the ultimate control of God in all things. (Wow. Another deep one.)

I dance when we watch High School Musical. (Is that too much information?)

I sing when I hear anything I know or think I know. At church, in the car, on TV, when watching High School Musical...)

I cry at the drop of a hat. And I quote, "I have a strict policy... No one cries alone in my presence." (Dolly Parton as Truvy in Steel Magnolias)

I fight as little as possible. I hate confrontation.

I won a chili cook-off contest last Fall. Without even really intending to enter. And I'm not bragging... I was truly stunned.

I lose my train of thought. Often. And my cel phone.

I never feel like I have my act together.

I always have a headache when it's gonna rain. My skull is my weatherman.

I confuse myself.

I listen to whatever happens to be on the radio. I'm not really picky about music style as long as no one's singing through their nose.

I can usually be found in flip flops.

I am scared of snakes, big snakes, little snakes, snakes, and worms because they look like tiny snakes.

I need to get off this dang computer and go be productive... it's a half day at school and my time is a-wastin' away.

I am happy to live in this beautiful land we call America. It is a gift. (Cue patriotic music...)

I imagine myself sitting on the beach about 23 times a day.

I tag... no one! I only do that on Facebook.

Feeling overloaded with information about me yet? I know I am.

Have a Blessed Wednesday, folks.

Good Intentions and My 2 Other Children

Is the road to Hell really paved with them? Good intentions? I know I've heard that saying somewhere. I think it may even be a country music song...

Well. I don't know about the road to Heck being paved with good intentions. I do know that the road to frustration is paved with them. And so is the road to tired.

I have all these lovely and ambitious plans... things that would somehow and someway make life a little better for those around me or for myself.

But they just don't seem to get done.

Don't stop reading... this is not another guilt post. (This time.)

Where does the time go?

Where does my energy go?

Now I sound like a granny on the front porch watchin' my grandchillen' run around the yard.

I asked the boy on Saturday afternoon if he was tired. He's battled his allergies all week, he's had loads of homework, bedtimes have been pushed to their limits, and he'd just played a soccer game in 123% humidity.

I said, "I don't know about you, buddy, but I sure am tired."

He says, "What do YOU have to be tired about?"

Well. If I weren't so busy lying on the sofa all day eating bon bons and watching game shows, I would think of something to be tired about. (I didn't say that. But I wanted to.)


There are MANY times I find myself defending the fact that we have only one child. Whenever my good friend is around, she helps me out...
She always says I have one child who might as well be triplets.
He's a great kid, but he's always been a lot of work. Like triplets rolled into one.
(Please... all you parents of multiples, don't send me hate mail. I really don't know how hard your life is... I am only making a lame comparison.)

So... I simply told the boy that I was tired because I have to take care of his busy little behind all the time.

And that I'm tired from thinking up all these good intentions.

Wow. Imagine how tired I'd be if I actually got around to doing them.

It Really Did Feel Like 143,000 Children

Well, well, well. We've been busy. Many things have happened since my "non-laboring-BBQ-eating-dove-shooting" Labor Day weekend. A lot of busy stuff.

- Someone failed to mention to me that 4th Grade is college prep. I mean we are buried in the homework, folks. And the boy could write a book on "Worrying About Your Backpack Being Properly Packed for the Next Day."

- I had a luncheon to attend. For the spouses of deployed chaplains. We had good food and great company.

- The boy had soccer practice.

- The boy had guitar lessons. (And practiced relentlessly... plink, plink, plink.)

- I had a coffee meeting where I enjoyed my first Pumpkin Spice Latte of the season. Yum.

- We had dinner with our friends. Twice. I had BBQ... again.

- I had a day I PLANNED to do some "registration renewal" of the boy at our "Children & Youth Services" center. Let me explain. This happy occasion is a blog-worthy event... all by itself.
I was PREPARED folks. PREPARED. But no.
As I type this... he remains "unregistered."
"Why," you ask?
Here's a bit of insight into Army life:

1. You must fill out 348,999.9 forms for everything you do.
2. You must provide proof of EVERYTHING. I walked in there with a briefcase of information. I'm wondering when they're gonna start asking for stool samples and vials of blood.
3. A physical is required to even think of participating in an event. A separate physical and another form for each event.
4. When you call to get the appointment for this physical, you will be put on hold... and then told you can have an appointment sometime in the year 2025.
5. When all this is said and done, they will invent a new regulation or form. And you get to do it all over again.

But I'm not bitter.

Let's continue...

- The boy had his soccer game.



- We had the Fall Sunday School Kick-Off.

- We had no air-conditioning in our chapel on Sunday morning. I was on the verge of fainting several times, and it had nothing to do with the Holy Spirit.

- We had a chapel lunch picnic. I ate... more BBQ.

- We had the first night of AWANAS. Bible Clubs for boys and girls. It's really a wonderful program, and the kids love it. I was volunteering in the 3rd and 4th grade girls' group. An email from our leader said we had 143 children attending. Honestly, it felt like 143,000. I am so thankful they all came, and they are precious. I'm just not certain that Bible club should cause me to consider using street drugs.

I must go attend to some homework, and I know there's a form I should be filling out.

Oh. And I was just informed that our elderly obese cat went "poopie" in the floor. Again.
That really is another post for another day.


P.S. We are NOT having BBQ for dinner.

No "Laboring" on Labor Day

I am considering not going on any more vacations or family visits or fun trips.

It takes way too long for my brain and body to recover.
To get back into the mode of being "in charge" and responsible and aware of what needs to be done.

I am kidding about the not taking any more vacations and trips part... I am NOT kidding about needing a brain and body boost.

The boy and I spent Labor Day weekend at my parents' house. With my brother and my sis-in-law and my nephew. Baba and Papa had both their cutie patootie grandsons there for the weekend.



If you know anything at all about my family... you know there was a certain event that made the trip home absolutely necessary.

The opening of Dove Season.

Bring on the firearms.




Me? I went shopping.

There's even an annual dove shoot and cook-out held partly in memory of my grand-pa... the boy's great-grandfather.... the one responsible for this hunting gene. The boy and my dad went.


My mom and I went later to enjoy the food and the scenery.


I think I ate BBQ a total of 437,826 times this weekend. I found a few good sales. And I did not "labor" one bit. Good times.

What's the Hidden Meaning?

While driving back onto our post yesterday, I ended up right behind a Krispy Kreme delivery truck.

(For anyone who's wondering... "On Post" means leaving the real world and entering the military one... with guards and gates and lots of camo. And Krispy Kreme? Well... I don't have any idea how to explain that.)

Now back to the real story.

As I sat at the red light, I found myself daydreaming. About jumping into the back of that truck and hijacking myself some doughnuts.

I had a whole elaborate plan worked out. I was even thinking about snatching boxes for friends and how I'd leave my car idling and how I'd be so stealthy that the truck driver would never know I was there. Until he got to his destination with no doughnuts.

Either it was a really long red light or I have serious carb issues.

Or maybe it's from living here.

The light changed, and I turned, and that was the end of that.

Until today.

I was sitting at another red light. On the other side of the base. I was thinking about my silly daydream from the day before. Laughing at myself and wondering if any other human ever has the same bizarre ideas that I seem to have.

Smiling at my insanity, I looked up to drive through the light.

You will never believe who was in front of me.


I've been trying to convince myself that it was purely coincidence.

Or was it?

Happy Anniversary to Me!

Yesterday was the 16th anniversary of the day Dan and I were married.

Holy moley. We are some old people.

It can be a bit difficult to celebrate the occasion when you are half a planet away, but we did our best.

The boy and I went out to dinner with our good friends. And we had a hoot of a good time.

I'm sure Dan celebrated by eating some delicious dinner at an Army dining facility! And he sent me these...



Oh yes, folks... those are chocolate covered strawberries.



Loads of HUGE chocolate covered strawberries skewered into a cute little flowerpot.

I think I'll keep him. 16 years is a long time to train somebody.

After consuming several of these lovelies, I said (out-loud),

"Thanks honey! You sent a great present!" (You know, 'cause he can hear me all the way over there.)

The boy then says (with a little dance),

"Daddy is AWESOME!!"

I'm thinking, "Awwww.... how sweet. He recognizes the love his father has for his mother..." (Should have known better.)

Oh but no.

Because he adds,

"Daddy sent a present with sticks!"

Let the Weight Lifting Begin

Just another random conversation I had with the boy this morning...

(Don't look away... this one is G rated.)

the boy: "Can I have a refill on this juice?"

me: "Sure... Wow! Are you super-duper thirsty this morning?"

the boy: "Nope. I am just super-duper manly. So I need lots of juice."


Who knew?
3 days of 4th grade turns a one-glass-of-juice boy into a two-glasses-of-juice man.

Hi Ho... Hi Ho...

It's off to school he goes!!

And I haul out the camera to capture the memory. The smile and the sweet pose and the magical moment preserved forever...

(Imagine a loud screeching of brakes.) But noooooooooo. I forgot. This is the boy I'm talking about here. The one who HATES getting his picture made. The one who... if you recall... says that hell is just people taking your picture all day. I wonder if the devil uses digital or SLR?

"Smile, honey! It's your first day of 4th grade!"

"No, silly! OPEN your eyes more! You look tired!"



"OK. Now you look scared. Not that wide."

"Stop laughing at me so I can get a good shot!"


"Well, fine then... be that way."


Happy School Days folks!

Just When You Think It Can't Get Worse

Let's all pause for a moment and thank the Good Lord above that I don't live in Southeast Asia.

As you may know by now, there's ENTIRELY too much Animal Planet viewing going on at our house.

Folks, brace yourselves.

There are snakes that fly.

Yep. FLY.

As if I could be ANY MORE AFRAID of them.

Now I find out that there are some species that will hurl themselves from their tree and glide through the air. Then they undulate their snakey bodies from side to side to go further. (Even the word "undulate" is wigging me out.)

Oh. Dear. Lord.



Imagine that skinny demon swooping through the sky above you.
That is just a million levels of wrong.

"Hell on Earth" pretty much sums it up for me.

It's when I find out things like this that I momentarily consider having our cable shut off. (Except I can't imagine a world without the Food Network or Design Star or Hell's Kitchen or TLC or Tori & Dean and now I've revealed too much.)

May God save us all from the flying snakes.

Warning: Following Information Gives You a Glimpse Into my Warped Mind

I have been avoiding the blog.

Not for any good reason... like more time cleaning my house or organizing my closets or catching up on my scrapbooking or going away to the woods on a prayer retreat or shopping for organic food or knitting my own clothes or earning money for my child's college fund.

None of that has happened.

Can you sense where this is going?

Old man Guilt is creeping in again.

"You didn't make the boy read enough this summer."
"You didn't take him to the pool enough this summer."
"You didn't lose 50 pounds this summer."

I even begin to let other people's words and actions affect how I FEEL about things. I begin to question my own God-given intuitions and decisions.

"You don't sit up and cry every night... so you must not miss your husband enough."
"You aren't very sad about school starting... so maybe you don't treasure your child enough."
"You aren't running a marathon... you must not appreciate the body God gave you."
"You aren't raising free-range chickens... you don't care about your family's health."

See what I mean?

It's NUTS!

(I'm nuts!)

For the record, no one has specifically SAID any of these things directly to me... It's all a broken record that I allow to play in my head... Loosely based on what people actually do say.

I let so much of the world influence my thoughts and motivations.

Just when we "grown-ups" think we've conquered that whole "peer pressure" thing... It comes back in other nasty forms.

Why am I so hard-headed when it comes to the truth? And the correct way to think?

"Since then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above...Set your mind on things above, not on earthly things."
(Colossians 3:1-2)

Nothing a Little "Shark Week" Won't Cure

Don't ya'll hate having a cold in the summer? A cold isn't my idea of fun at ANY time of the year, but in the summer? Gimme a break, here, Mr. Germ.

Stuffy nose + 100 degrees outside? No breathin' going on here.

Despite my youthful wildness (and there was plenty of it), I can say with sincerity that I've never had a hangover.

Until yesterday.

No, my husband's absence didn't drive me to the tequila bottle (yet).

This girl took herself some NyQuil.

Good Lord.

There ought to be awards for just getting that stuff down.
And the next morning?
I felt like I'd been run over by a truck.
My mouth was dry, my eyes wouldn't focus, my feet were heavy, and it took a lot of coffee to get me feeling somewhat normal.

Good thing I'm not a heavy drinker.

It's also a good thing the boy and I had the Discovery Channel to amuse us this week.

For those of you land-lubbers out there... it's been Shark Week.
Our most favorite TV week of the year.
We learn a LOT and get creeped-out even more.
And we vow,
"We're never going back in the ocean again!"
(Until the next time we go to the beach.)

We do love us some Shark Week.
What an amazing planet this truly is.

I just wouldn't recommend watching ocean creatures eat people while hyped up on NyQuil.

I LOVE Cooking Camp

Yep. You read that right. Cooking Camp.

Well, actually, it's "Culinary Camp."

And that's where the boy is going this week. Well, for three days.

He loved the first day. "Except for all the cleaning up," he said.

The best part?

HE BRINGS HOME FOOD!!

Real honest-to-goodness food that I did not have to fix. That's "prepare" for you non-Southerners.

And I am a happy momma! Today we had broccoli and bacon quiche and cherry turnovers for lunch! Awesome! And so much better than PB&J's. What a treat!

Except for the part during lunch when he informed me that the symptoms of the Norwalk Virus are vomiting and diarrhea.

Apparently they discussed food safety also. Yummy.



And now totally unrelated 'cause that's the way I roll..
While having a chat with my friend about "Positive Day," she asked,

"Do we get to have a 'Negative Day' too?"

Hee hee.

So then I decided to come up with some other good "Day" ideas:

"Yell At Your Kids Day" (Which comes much more than once a year at my house!)

"Lie Around the House Like a Bum Day" (Would we feel less guilty if it were a "designated" day?)

"Cry At the Drop of a Hat Day" (PMS, anyone?)

"Exercise is Evil Day" (Can this be 364 days?)

"Junk Food Day" (coincides with #4)

Those are just a few of my suggestions.

Positive Day!

I like to think that I have a friend in blog land. This friend has a very smart daughter. This daughter... after reading a very not nice review of a movie she loved dearly... decided that people should be more positive! Amen little sister!

She then went on to say that if (and when) she becomes President, she will declare a day for being positive! Amen again!

I like to think of myself as an optimist. But if I'm really honest, I do more complaining than being grateful.

It's just so easy to fall into the land of negativity.

Here lately, I've found myself in a few conversations about having a husband who's deployed to a war zone. Some people think we're crazy. Some offer sympathy. Others offer advice. Most are just curious.

Truthfully? It is not easy. It is not fun. But, it a choice we made as a family. A choice my husband made to answer God's call to love and take care of soldiers. Sometimes that means he's home, and many times that means he's not.

And we are all okay with that.

So... on Positive Day... I decided to list the positive things about having a husband who's deployed. I hope my list answers some of those curious questions. Maybe my list is just for me.

1. less laundry!!

2. more room in the bed!!

3. a smaller grocery bill

4. more eating out (see #3)

5. no arguments over what we watch on TV after the boy has gone to bed (I can watch all the Oxygen Network, Food Network, Lifetime, and HGTV I can stand!)

6. I choose the movies from Netflix

7. no pressure to make real food... you know, meals... the boy and I could survive on cereal alone

8. lots of extra time to spend with friends and family

9. a chance to build up our independence and courage (we all need more of that)

10. I can take up ALL of the bathroom counter and leave my mess out until it bugs me

I was gonna stop at #10, but...

11. everyday life becomes an adventure!

Happy Positive Day!

PS... I'm thinking of letting the boy make his own list for you. Trust me when I say you'll laugh.

Soccer Camp, Swimming, and Our Favorite Channel

It finally feels like summer around here.
No, I am not referring to the outdoor thermometer and its unholy numbers. I am referring to the fact that:

We are at home.

No one is sporting a 103.5 degree temperature.

No one is in the ER.

We have been in our pajamas more than our regular clothes.

We have eaten lots of cereal, chicken nuggets, mac & cheese, and chips.

We have enjoyed lazy lie-around and read afternoons.

Last week, the boy participated in Soccer Camp. He came home each afternoon roasted and tired.




And... we have been to the pool.




My personal favorite... hiding under a towel... eating Chex Mix. Good times.


And what better way to spend the dwindling days of Summer vacation than being a couch potato? With your cat?

Yep. I don't often write about the two cats that own the blog title, but this was worth sharing.

I came into the living room and saw this.


My cat was WATCHING TV.
Look closely. She has the remote.


And what are they watching? What else?


Ahhh. Summer.