Anyone have a tissue?

My kids have had a cold for the last week or so, and now I'm sick. Full blown head cold. Monday I went to my regular doctor, and yesterday I went to the ear/nose/throat dr. Today both kids had their yearly check-up - just a little late. They are both healthy - at the top of the charts in height and weight. The doctor was happy that J has thinned out a bit. He's just a lot more active now. Imagine two toddlers in the waiting room, exam room, lab and then at DQ. I sure was glad to get home and put them in bed. I actually got a little nap.

Tomorrow will be a stay-home day. Yea!

Tomorrow is a new month. It really seems like summer and fall have just flown by.

We have a little boy who keeps asking when it's going to snow. SNOW. Yuck. I told him it isn't going to snow for a long time. I don't care how soon it comes, but I would really like a white Christmas this year. Last year the ground was bare and it was a little depressing.

I am dreading Christmas a little this year. I am afraid that the Christmas concert/program is going to overtake my time. And I have about 5 weeks to get the house clean and decorated since I'm having the ladies' fellowship Christmas party here again. I know that I won't worry so much about cooking as I did last year. Last year I was left with piles of food, and I probably ended up eating a lot of it myself.

I'm watching a TLC program about extremely obese people in Britain and the US. They just showed a woman who consumed more than 15,000 calories in a day. This guy eats about 35,000. I just cannot imagine. They said that's the number of calories an average man should eat in 2 weeks. He is dieting by eating 3,500 calories a day. Yikes.

It makes me want to clean out the cupboards and fridge, and eat bean sprouts for the rest of my life. When I was at the doctor's I had to get on the scale - I sure have a long way to go. But I'm making progress.

We had revival at church this week. We went Sunday and last night. I knew there would be a baby nursery, but there was not a class for the other children. Thankfully I grabbed some things as we left the house and our little boy did pretty well. At one point in the sermon, the preacher yelled and scared him. He hid his face behind a book and tucked himself up behind my husband's arm and started mumbling. He told us later he was praying that God would help the preacher not yell anymore. (BTW-the preacher didn't yell again)

Bean sprouts, anyone?

"We don't do Halloween"

My Gyn doctor asked what my kids were going to be for Halloween. I almost said, "Monsters", but they aren't really that bad. I just told her we don't do Halloween. She looked at me for a minute - I don't know if she thought I was going to elaborate. She just said that surely made this time of year a lot easier.

Well, I for one don't like this "holiday". When I lived in the city, I had to hide my black cats. (I do think this cartoon is Hillar-ious - I don't know who the artist is, but they did a great job!) Even now, living in the boonies, I have to work not look at all the grotesque junk in people's yards. And then try to explain to my four year old why people are so gross. I try to divert his attention to something else, even imaginary so he doesn't see the worst stuff, and if he does, I basically lie to him about what most of it is supposed to be.

I don't have anything against people who celebrate it. We just don't. There are zillions of costumes that would be acceptable/adorable in my mind. But I don't think my kids would enjoy walking up to strangers' houses for starters. I don't think it's right for them to work that hard asking for candy that I won't let them eat. I know my son in particular would be scared to death of the costumes and decorations that others think are cool because they (the decorations) are so scary or macabre. (This is the boy who hollers to change the channel or runs and hides in the hallway if something suspenseful happens on a cartoon.)

I know people think we're silly for how we feel about Halloween. I enjoyed it when I was a kid - dressed up as an Indian, a cowgirl, or even as a bum - not some character from a slasher movie with an eyeball hanging down to the chin carrying some instrument of death. And to make us even more ridiculous, we don't hand out candy. So, please, don't ring my doorbell.

What a day

Well, yesterday was fun and today has been a blast, too, so far. Mike and I had planned to go to my counseling session together and go out to eat afterwards. He called about 10 minutes before the babysitter came and said he got stuck working a double shift. Great. I had spent the morning straightening the kitchen and fixing the kids' lunch and making dinner in the crock pot. When the babysitter came, I was still wearing cruddy clothes and hadn't done my hair or make up. Amazing what I can accomplish in 15 minutes without a little person hanging on my leg.

I had a good session with Karen - my counselor. We talked about the negative things I say to myself in my head and how I need to start consciously saying nicer things. I'm so beautiful.

I went to the mall and wandered around the craft store for awhile and walked out with a couple things. I didn't really see anything that knocked my socks off, but can you walk out of a craft store empty handed? I don't think I ever have. I'm so wonderful.

Went through a little fiasco with the babysitter when I got home yesterday. Had to finish things with today (I hate confrontations) when I got home from my yearly Gynie visit. Now that was fun! Ugh! Afterwards, I was talking to the doctor in her office and asked how she had been. She looked up from the papers as if to say, "Someone is asking about me?" She said it's been a bad year. Her husband had a serious skiing accident in Canada and they were still fighting with their insurance company. (Seems things went better with the red tape when he told them he's a physician married to a physician. HMMM.) He had to go to Baltimore for surgery b/c there weren't any doctors here who could do the surgery. She told me her son attends Virginia Tech and was on campus during the shooting. And recently someone killed her cat (she didn't say how - I didn't ask.) She looks really tired. I told her I hope the year ends on a much better note and that I'd be praying for her. She got teary and thanked me. I'm so compassionate.

The rest of the day looks quiet. I don't know if we'll make it to church tonight. Mike needs to take his final test today and then he's off until January. YEA! He's already registered for a class in January, so I'm not worried he's quitting. It'll be so nice to have him home for more time each evening. I'm so loving.

Well, the kids are sitting at the dining room table about 10 feet from me piddling instead of eating, and I want to get them into bed. Then I can finally relax a little and play with my new craft stuff.

I'm so obnoxious.

The Dreaded "B" Word

Ok. I know you are all gasping, because I don't use foul language. But I'm talking about a different "B" - the BRA. My very first run-in with the contraption was a completely mortifying experience and it just seems that I'm destined to always be that awkward 13 year old. When I was just starting to need a bra, my mom took me shopping. In the middle of the department store, she picked a double eye patch off the rack and put the band around me! I was angry and wanted to die. She said she needed to see if it fit around me and acted like I was being ridiculous. Ah, ever heard of a MEASURING TAPE!

Just a few weeks later, another embarrassing moment happened at camp. I was standing in line at the canteen and felt something tickling the back of my arm. When I looked over my shoulder, I realized the shoulder strap had come out of the little plastic clasp in front and was hanging out the back of my shirt sleeve. Who knows how many dumb junior high boys were laughing their heads off? I didn't know because I ran for my life back to my cabin.

Many years later and several sizes larger (thank God) I was playing in a volleyball league when the little plastic clasp (does it have a name?) broke. I was so thankful I was wearing an over sized black tee shirt, but I was mortified anyway. Especially when the guys were asking what was wrong. "Technical difficulties," I told them. Wonder what they thought that meant.

You'd think I'd be over being embarrassed. I mean, with my son I tried so long and hard to nurse. While I was in the hospital I can't tell you how many nurses tried to help me get the little leech to latch (isn't that what la leechie is about?) Ha ha. And after I got home it was so rough that I went back to the hospital for help from the lactation counselor. We tried everything. She had me take off the top half of my clothes and we tried every hold position in the books. (I ended up putting him on formula on my birthday - one of the best gifts I've ever given myself!) With my daughter, we tried but when I decided to quit trying I wasn't as devastated. Oh, yeah. Back to bras.

I used to buy pretty bras; now I'd just be happy with one that fits. One that isn't threadbare. One that pushes everything up and doesn't cut off my circulation would be great. One that doesn't create bigger bulges in the back than in the front - or worse yet - under my arms. I followed the instructions I found online about measuring. Well, that didn't work. What I brought home definitely didn't fit. I now know I'm not a Duncan Donut! I'm in the process of losing weight (35 lbs so far!), so I've been struggling with finding the right size. I refuse to try a bra on in the store. There is no way I'm going to worry about camera anxiety. My husband suggested I go to a bra store and be fitted (he watches too much What Not To Wear). I told him there was no way I wanted some lady to see my saggy . . . lungs. So I guess I'll be buying, trying on and returning bras until I find one that fits.

I can't help but think of the scene from Beaches. Bette Midler sings a song that is quite crass, but I've never forgotten what she called a bra. An over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. Well, thanks to my mother's genes, I have to deal with bras and ALL that goes with them.

Falling Leaves and arms and legs

arms and legs, arms and legs. . . (Think Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes)

We are having a beautiful fall here this year. The colors are at their peak and when I look at the mountains covered with a beautiful patchwork quilt, I'd love to jump off a cloud and free-fall right onto it.

I don't know what it is about Autumn that makes me think of my dad. It's probably because he started getting excited about hunting season about now. I've really been missing him lately. How is it possible that he's been gone for 22 years? He's been gone longer than I knew him. The vague glimpses of happy childhood memories seem to always include Dad - laughing, teasing, joking. I woke up the other morning with tears in my eyes and I realized I was feeling homesick. So where is home? Where did it go?

I think the kids killed in Crandon is making things even more difficult. I can't help but think about my dad buried in the cemetery there. I wish I lived closer; I'd like to go sit by his headstone and talk to him. Now, I know he's not there, but for some reason the thought is comforting.


I was up very late last night. Stupid surfing. Really. I do some of the craziest searches. Distant relatives, friends, celebrities, myspace searches, people from college I hated, I mean, disliked. You know, the girls with the perfect body, huge hair and obnoxious lipstick who tried to make everyone else feel inferior. Well, I found one of them - she was a professional organizer - still single. No wonder. And did you know mannequins and dress forms - especially full figured dress forms - cost an arm and a leg? Even if they don't have arms or legs - or even heads?

Legs. My son and I have been dealing with aching legs. Well, I know mine are really hurting; the weather here keeps changing. I think he may be stalling at bedtime or having growing pains, so it's a good thing Mommy has "Leg Medicine". It smells really good, kinda like pomegranate body lotion. It seems to work miracles! Now if it could only make all the little bruises on his shins disappear, he'd have legs everyone would envy. They are really soft and smell great!

Daughter just walked up to Son and gave him a very intense frown. She was trying to figure out why he's trying to pull the lips off his face with a sticker. We just got haircuts last week so now we can see her eyebrows again. She is so expressive. She's such a cute little jelly bean. Well, I need to feed the troops - son is on a military kick - thinks he's a tank gunner. Thanks Daddy. Now all day above the sound of Noggin and Nick Jr. I hear steam engine noises followed up by sounds of machine guns and artillery shells taking out all the "bad guys" in our living room.

What is it about church?

I don't know if the air is different inside the church building or what.

As soon as my 4 year old enters the building, he begins having difficulty. Not difficulty breathing; difficulty listening. He seems to refute evolution - you know - things changing for the better. He has trouble listening all the time, but inside the church building, he becomes a squirrel. He can't sit still, he can't be quiet, he can't . . . well, I could go on. If I would unleash him, it's as if he could scurry up the walls and laugh at us all. And as I looked around this morning at some of the other little ones I realized he isn't alone. He and all the other little squirrels were chomping at the bit (I know, squirrels don't wear bits) waiting for the starter pistol to sound so they could exit the sanctuary for fun time, I mean Children's Church.

My 2 year old cried a lot this morning. We thought it was just a bad day for her and she was having separation anxiety. Her Sunday School teacher even commented that she seemed to be more "terrible" than usual. She cried going into the nursery and cried after church and cried in the car. DH and I wondered if she had picked up that bug again. You know, the one that lives in the nursery; the one she brings home quite often and shares with us all. As I was changing her clothes after church I noticed she wasn't using her left arm. Her elbow was popped out of joint again. This seems to happen too often. Well, no wonder she was crying. Made DH and me feel terrible.

We survived our elaborate Sunday dinner. We stop and pick up McD's each week on our way home. I know - it's not healthy. But neither is 2 toddlers missing their naptime. The sooner we get them into bed after church, the better all of us feel. So we get the kids in bed and DH and I have a little quiet time in the afternoon until one of us dozes off and starts snoring. :0)

I volunteered - more like accepted the challenge - to lead the adult choir for our Christmas program this year. We started practice 2 weeks ago and I would love to see more people join. We are a small church, so I'm not expecting a recording deal or anything, but I'm also a perfectionist, so we'll just keep plugging away with what we have. We are presenting "A Christmas Carol in Bethlehem" which tells the Christmas story and incorporates some of Scrooge's story. I think I'll start to pull teeth to get people to participate in the play part.

Speaking of teeth. This last week I went to the dentist - finally. I have avoided the dentist for 5 years, and now I have 2 cavities to prove it. As if I don't have enough anxiety and doctor's appointments.

Well, it's off to meet the wizard.