Tuesday's 10 And It's Hot

The weather has nothing to do with Ten on Tuesday, but since summertime temperatures have arrived earlier than normal, I will be complaining earlier than normal.

1. Should we keep doing Ten on Tuesday?
This is a good question, Chelsea. I enjoy the 10, but there are weeks I can't participate. Or don't participate, because the questions are about something I have no business blogging about... like baseball. (We are not baseball fans around here. Please don't call us un-American.)
I always feel guilty when I don't link up. Guilt is my specialty.

2. How do you pick out your sunglasses?
Do they fit my face? Do they cover my eyes? Are they cute? Do they make me look like a bug? And, do they sit straight on my crooked ears? I swear my ears are uneven.

3. Do you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day?
Sorta. I wear green, and I have a St.Patty's day wreath. If circumstances allow, we might eat some St. Patty's Day food.

4. Name 5 movies that you will never get sick of.
"Steel Magnolias"
any of the "Harry Potter" movies
"Elf"
"The Secret Life of Bees" (I like the book better, though.)
any of "The Pirates of the Caribbean" movies

5. Name 1 book that you will never get sick of.
"Harry Potter" (any of them)

6. Do you know any sign language?
I know most of the alphabet and a few words.

7. What is your favorite kind of Girl Scout cookie?
The kind you eat.
Seriously... I like them all. My favorite is a tie between Thin Mints and Peanut Butter Patties.

8. Are you handy? (Can you fix or build anything?)
Yes. The nature of Dan/Daddy's job makes me a single mom for stretches of time, so I have to be. I have to be responsible for a load of things that I normally wouldn't do. I have even replaced a car tail light.
I have to kill bugs and mow the grass sometimes, too.
I have not (yet) had to kill a snake. Would I be considered "handy" if I scream and call 911?

9. In what form do you prefer your potatoes? (Baked, mashed, au gratin, hashbrowns, twice baked, etc.)
All the above.
OK, baked.

10. Do you believe the saying “actions speak louder than words”?
Yes.

It is the first official day of Spring, and we're on track to break the record high here today. And tomorrow.
Let the complaining begin.

It Really Doesn't Take Much

I really am a simple gal. Our weekend was a blur, but full of little things that made me smile...


Spring soccer season started again. Yeah. This momma loves watching the boy play soccer.







On the way home from the game, we ran through Chick Fil-A for some lunch, and the lemonade was dyed green for St. Patrick's Day. It made me giddy. I took a picture to share with y'all, but the photo doesn't really speak to me the way the lemonade did. It actually looked kinda yucky. But, trust me... it wasn't.

I also took the boy to a local farm store. No, I am not a farmer. I am the daughter and the grand-daughter of farmers, however. So the farm store is a place I can appreciate. I had an ulterior motive for going.... I heard a rumor they had baby chickens.
The farm store did not disappoint.



Pictures with a cel phone can't do these babies justice.
A tub-o-chicks. Pure cheeping happiness.



Soccer, green lemonade, and baby chickens. I can't remember a weekend so nice.
Hope you all enjoy the last official day of Winter.
It feels like the middle of July to me.

Questions

There are some things on my mind.

1. How many fat free Fig Newtons can I consume before the calorie content completely overrules the whole "fat free" thing?

2. Why are Girl Scout cookies only sold one time a year? Those girls would never have to pay for a single stinkin' camp out again if they sold those cookies year-round. I could probably put a few of them through college with my purchases alone.

3. Why are 2 of my questions about cookies?

5. What should you make for a kid's school lunch if processed meats are SOOOO bad for you?

6. How do you get a puppy to stop barking at random nonsense but still let her know it's ok to bark at bad guys and boogie men?

7. Why is it 80 degrees on March 14th? I'm worried it will either be snowing in 2 weeks or 120 degrees by May.

8. Does anyone out there decorate for St. Patrick's Day? All the St. Patty's Day stuff on Pinterest is adorable; my motivation level is low, however.

That's it. I couldn't even come up with 10.
Happy Wednesday, folks.

Rosie (Don't Let The Name or The Face Fool You)

Let me start by saying I am more of a cat person.
I never really knew why I liked cats better until we finally got the boy a dog.
Now it is all crystal clear.

Please don't misunderstand me, I love all animals. (Except snakes, and they are not animals. They are Satan's minions, but that's another story.)
I love doggies, and I had plenty of them growing up.

I was more than willing to let the boy have a dog. He'd been asking for a while, but military housing has a rule about the number of pets one can own.
When sweet old Shelby "went to meet Jesus," we really began to talk seriously about a dog.
But, we were moving.
Then... we were settling into a new place.
Then... it was the holidays.
Then... we were traveling like gypsies.

And then we decided there would never be a perfect time.

After a sad and unsuccessful trip to a shelter, we started looking online. Dan/Daddy eventually found a family who needed to find a new home for their puppy.
Anybody else see red flags? Hear bells and whistles?
The family had a 5 year-old who wasn't taking care of the puppy like she'd agreed to, and the puppy needed WAY MORE attention and yard space than they could give.

So. Rosie came to love with us.
She's Puggle (Pug and Beagle) and Lab.
She's the definition of a cute mess.



The fact that I have to take her picture through the glass door should tell you something.
She is so sweet and so loving, but for the first 3 months of her life, she had no rules or discipline.
She wasn't housebroken, she was allowed to jump on people, and she was allowed to chew and nip. Not toys, but hands and faces and feet and furniture and anything else she can get her razor-sharp teeth around.
She's like a monkey on crack.
We have become "Puppy Rehab."

I do love her, but the nipping is making me psychotic.
(We've tried everything. I hear patience and time may work.)

I am now waking up WAY before I'd like to so I can feed another mouth.
And then letting it outside to make sure the floors stay tinkle and poopie free.

My house has that faint doggie smell that I swore my house would never have.
That's what I get for swearing.

Pray for me blog friends. And, if you don't hear from me in a while, please check on me. I may have been eaten by my really cute dog.

Double Dippin'

A few weeks ago, I linked up with Kelly's Korner when she put the spotlight on Military Families.
Well now she's linking up bloggers who are "Ministry Wives."
Cool.
So I am joining in again. Ha ha!

Sometimes it feels like we've been in the "Tour de France" of ministry...
I've been a Youth Minister's wife, a Pastor's wife, and now I'm an Army Chaplain's wife. And I've been married to the same guy the whole time!
I think I need a raise.
Now that I think about it, all Pastor's wives, Youth Pastor's wives, and Army Chaplain's wives need a raise.
And lots of prayer.

Granny's Got Some Technology

In light of my last post... in which I documented the aging of my son AND myself...

I thought you would all get a hoot out of this.

I spent 45 minutes on the phone with our internet service provider yesterday. The internet was not connecting, and I couldn't figure out what in the world was wrong.
Calling tech support was my last option, but I had tried everything.

The tech support gal "rebooted" and "pinged" and did all sorts of other things that involved modems and routers, and then she asked me if the "wireless" button on the computer was switched "off" or "on."

Y'all. I didn't know where that button was. I didn't even know it existed.
Well.

When my 12 year-old showed me the button, it was in the "off" position.
I flipped it on, and the internet was back. Miracle.

Somewhere at a dinner table last night, a tech gal was telling a hysterical story about Granny and her laptop.

Almost Official

Exactly one month and one day from today, I will be the momma of a teenager.
That sound you hear is my heart stopping and my wallet crying.
No amount of Oil of Olay or sedatives can help me now.

I have known this day was coming, but I had no idea it would affect me the way it has. I keep thinking about the day the boy was born. Lord, help me.

I keep thinking about all the milestones we've passed.
I keep wondering where he's putting all this food he's consuming.
I find myself getting all sentimental.
I wonder when he's going to want a boy/girl birthday party.
I can't figure out how to make myself look younger while he's looking older.
I keep thinking about the crazy years that lie ahead of us.
I wonder how one human can grow so fast, and I realize he's just a few inches from looking down at me. My baby giraffe.

I am also glad that as this big birthday approaches, he's still his momma's boy.
He still likes to hang out with me.
He still asks for my help, and he still tells me (almost) everything.
(Some things I'd rather not know, but I'll never stop listening.)

And his goofiness? I am a fan.