Yesterday I had the distinct privilege of taking my soon-to-be-senior-in-high-school to his senior pictures. While I was expecting this grand experience, it was actually quite simple. A couple of photographers and a couple of college-age girls doing a summer job. Funny how when we get the results of those shots they are going to look so professional and classy. Yet, here they sat in this classroom at the high school with all their fancy equipment and a bunch of chairs.
That actually, isn't the point of my blog this morning. As I sat and watched the young girl-with-a-summer-job chick get my dear Oldest ready for his pictures I noticed that for the classy, formal, yearbook picture he got to put on a lovely sleeveless dress shirt. Perhaps you've had this experience before. No sleeves on that bad boy, just the button up collar and she added a bow tie. As he stood waiting on the finishing touches of a suit jacket, I marveled at how this young man with his bulging biceps and ripped off sleeves on a tuxedo dress shirt looked like he jumped out of a comic book. Incredible Hulk anyone?
On goes the suit jacket and he takes the most fabulous pictures. The boy is so handsome. Side note: I DID NOT use this opportunity as one of my free passes to be emotional since my senior is a senior kind of moment. I kept it together very well. I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of the other students and the photographers, naturally. As composed as I was, it was an "awwww" kind of moment. Especially the cap and gown picture. Wow, there's my baby with a cap and gown on. That was pretty huge.
Enough digressing...I realized that this fancy, tuxedo shot is much like a lot of things in our life. We take shortcuts of torn off sleeves to our situations. Who needs the whole deal? Who needs to take the time to actually do things completely? All we think we need is the end result...the fabulous tuxedo shot. Who would look at that picture and know that there's really only 1/2 a shirt there? What is it about human nature that makes us constantly drive towards quicker and easier? Shortcuts. We can find them in almost every situation. The route we drive to work; the dinner we cook (or don't cook) after work when the kids are hungry; the way we choose a checkout line at the grocery store. You get my drift. Shortcuts. Always looking for a better, easier, quicker way.
Is there really a difference if there had been sleeves under that shirt. Practically speaking, no. But symbolically speaking, yes. What if we avoid the shortcuts and go for quality over instantly? What if we actually took our time at our daily tasks and made a conscious effort to be real and authentic. Well, then I think all of our lives would be drastically different. Let's live real, folks.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Facing the Little Giants
Last night's small group was Chapter 2 of Facing Your Giants, by Max Lucado. I would love to tell you, folks, that this is a great book, but I'm restraining myself to one chapter at a time in an effort to teach the chapters effectively. Chapter 2, "Silent Phones" is all about those opportunities that we wait on with crossed fingers, baited breath and hopeful hearts. In other words, waiting for the phone to ring, the call to come, the opportunity to arrive, yet what we sometimes receive is the "silent phone".
We learn in the book that David, little dear Shepherd boy, runt of the giant sized family, was facing that small giant of living a rather mundane life, waiting for the silent phone to ring. Waiting for his opportunity. And if you know your biblical stuff, you know Samuel came a'knocking and brought the phone a'ringing. Tah-dah, just like that, opportunity knocks. David becomes a king. Who knew? Who would've thought it? He came from such humble beginnings.
In our group, I encouraged us mundane-livers to be encouraged, the phone will ring. Opportunity will show up; God does have a plan. The key, friends, is to wait for ring. Sometimes we pick them phone up before it even starts to buzz. Sometimes we move ahead of God. Sometimes we step outside, or out of God's will, and miss the call altogether.
I'm not afraid to laugh at myself, and it's a good thing because there's plenty to chuckle about. I shared with our friends last night that as a teenager, suffering from ridiculously low self-esteem, I was nervous and resistant to pump gas for the first time. Travel back with me, sixteen years of age, first car...never pumped gas before. My personality being what it was, I had plenty of anxiety about how I would mess this all up. This menial, simple task became a daunting, anxiety-producing event. I strategically avoided it for as long as I could. After all, where does the cash go inside the pump? How does that pump work anyway? I have to go inside and actually talk to the cashier? What if there is a long line of people waiting behind me. Can you say, ANXIETY. Relax friends, I have come a long, long way. All that turmoil in the brain waves has simmered down and I am completely comfortable with pumping gas, and proudly I can say, talking to strangers.
This little giant of a task became a huge obstacle of a giant. Friends, those of you who are superbly outgoing and "people" people, just skim over this incident, because you just won't understand. Working out the details in my head was to my detriment and not to my favor. My giant fear of embarrassment limited my freedom. I'm sure I was missing the ringing phone of opportunity to be care-free young lady with a driver's license, by creating and sustaining a giant obstacle of ridiculous.
Let that be a lesson to all you folks who, like me, tend to work out the problems in your head, even before the problem is a problem. Remove those giant giants. Don't let the little stuff hinder you from hearing the phone ring, guys. And when it's ringing, and God has opened the door for amazing opportunities for you, by all means, answer it!
We learn in the book that David, little dear Shepherd boy, runt of the giant sized family, was facing that small giant of living a rather mundane life, waiting for the silent phone to ring. Waiting for his opportunity. And if you know your biblical stuff, you know Samuel came a'knocking and brought the phone a'ringing. Tah-dah, just like that, opportunity knocks. David becomes a king. Who knew? Who would've thought it? He came from such humble beginnings.
In our group, I encouraged us mundane-livers to be encouraged, the phone will ring. Opportunity will show up; God does have a plan. The key, friends, is to wait for ring. Sometimes we pick them phone up before it even starts to buzz. Sometimes we move ahead of God. Sometimes we step outside, or out of God's will, and miss the call altogether.
I'm not afraid to laugh at myself, and it's a good thing because there's plenty to chuckle about. I shared with our friends last night that as a teenager, suffering from ridiculously low self-esteem, I was nervous and resistant to pump gas for the first time. Travel back with me, sixteen years of age, first car...never pumped gas before. My personality being what it was, I had plenty of anxiety about how I would mess this all up. This menial, simple task became a daunting, anxiety-producing event. I strategically avoided it for as long as I could. After all, where does the cash go inside the pump? How does that pump work anyway? I have to go inside and actually talk to the cashier? What if there is a long line of people waiting behind me. Can you say, ANXIETY. Relax friends, I have come a long, long way. All that turmoil in the brain waves has simmered down and I am completely comfortable with pumping gas, and proudly I can say, talking to strangers.
This little giant of a task became a huge obstacle of a giant. Friends, those of you who are superbly outgoing and "people" people, just skim over this incident, because you just won't understand. Working out the details in my head was to my detriment and not to my favor. My giant fear of embarrassment limited my freedom. I'm sure I was missing the ringing phone of opportunity to be care-free young lady with a driver's license, by creating and sustaining a giant obstacle of ridiculous.
Let that be a lesson to all you folks who, like me, tend to work out the problems in your head, even before the problem is a problem. Remove those giant giants. Don't let the little stuff hinder you from hearing the phone ring, guys. And when it's ringing, and God has opened the door for amazing opportunities for you, by all means, answer it!
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
I've Been Played
I am seriously thinking of changing Youngest blog name to Cutest. He is seriously the cutest thing ever, at a grand old age of 4. Did you know that he is smarter than you? Just ask him and he will confirm it. He is, in fact, smarter than all of us...or so he thinks.
Youngest: "Mom. I'm soooooooo hungry. Like really, really hungry. My stomach is telling my brain it's hungry."
Me: "Really, because you just had a snack and daddy's making dinner. So you're good."
Youngest: "Mom, I love you. I really, really, reallyyyyyyyyy love you."
Atthis point Youngest has climbed all over the top of my head it feels like and is hanging from me like a koala bear on a limb. And I am receiving kisses full of love and commitment and dedication.
Me: "Youngest! Are you trying to make me change my mind about your snack?"
Long pause, as those fantastic kisses take a pause break. I'm not really wondering why the sudden stop here folks. He just thinks he's smarter than everyone else.
Youngest: "Yes, mom. Because I really, really, really need a snack."
Me: "Okay, go ahead."
And poof, just like that, fast as he came in the room, he is gone from the room. The boy can work some charm. Innocent enough at 4 years of age. Let's fast forward to 9, 12 or 15. We're in trouble folks. Big, big trouble.
Youngest: "Mom. I'm soooooooo hungry. Like really, really hungry. My stomach is telling my brain it's hungry."
Me: "Really, because you just had a snack and daddy's making dinner. So you're good."
Youngest: "Mom, I love you. I really, really, reallyyyyyyyyy love you."
Atthis point Youngest has climbed all over the top of my head it feels like and is hanging from me like a koala bear on a limb. And I am receiving kisses full of love and commitment and dedication.
Me: "Youngest! Are you trying to make me change my mind about your snack?"
Long pause, as those fantastic kisses take a pause break. I'm not really wondering why the sudden stop here folks. He just thinks he's smarter than everyone else.
Youngest: "Yes, mom. Because I really, really, really need a snack."
Me: "Okay, go ahead."
And poof, just like that, fast as he came in the room, he is gone from the room. The boy can work some charm. Innocent enough at 4 years of age. Let's fast forward to 9, 12 or 15. We're in trouble folks. Big, big trouble.
Monday, July 26, 2010
A Rare Gem of An Opportunity
My darling mother had a genius idea to take the girls home with her for the weekend. When my mind stopped doing backflips of "whoo hoo...could it possibly be???" I calmly decided this would be a superb idea. Don't get the idea that I don't adore my children...it's just a FULL household at all times. It is truly rare for more than one of the four to be gone at any given time. Now, Oldest, he tries to stay gone as much as possible. Occasionally, Soccer Chick has a pool date or some other friend activity out of the house. And never fails, that leaves Baseball Chick and Youngest spinning in circles from boredom. They act like they can't survive without being included in all of each other's fun times.
Yet, here we are Friday, faced with the possibility that both Chicks could travel out of town for more than a 2 hour window of time. What a priceless thought. I will get to spend quality time with Youngest, the house will be quiet, the girls will have a great time! THANK YOU MAMA! Now, if she blogged, this being Monday, she might not have the same response. She probably went to work just to get some rest. This may wind up being the first, and the last of such trips. In the event that might be true, let me just say we made the most of it. The house was so quiet. Well, after Youngest finished having his complete 20 minute meltdown after Grandma's car pulled away. Several times I went to check on him, sobbing, crying hysterically, sprawled across his bed.
Me: "Are you finished now?"
Youngest: "No! Not finished. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"
And on he went. Very funny that he was able to compose himself enough to give me that determined response. Oldest wondered why I kept bothering to ask him. It's more of a hint than a question, was my theory.
Eventually the little guy pulled himself together. We talked about all the fun time he would have just him and mommy. After such fun time was thoroughly exhausted Saturday afternoon, he wondered when we were going to begin the spoken about "fun time". I had to give him a little talking to about being grateful and appreciative and not always wanting more. What he really wanted was his entertainment-his sisters-back home.
I was able to spend the quiet time in the house watching several movies that I have been wanting to see. Thank you Redbox! Dear John - loved it! :) I have a new superstar crush on Channing Tatum. Where has he been? Loved this love story. Liked it so much I watched it twice. And then we watched Shutter Island. Although I am sworn off scary movies, I thought the plot looked interesting. Hmm, now that I've seen it, let's say disturbing is more like it.
Sunday, the air conditioning had mysteriously gone out at the school we rent for church. During a heat wave, this is not so good. It was sweltering and trying to muster the energy to do anything other than breathe in there was a chore. Service was short and sweet. The Pastor let us know all about the "True Benefits" to having God in your life. Yes folks, it really is to our benefit in every situation we face. Thank God for God.
Somehow we survived the quiet in the house and imagined what life would have been like with only two children, with such a huge age gap in between them. I'll edit Oldest's response to the question:"do you miss your sisters?" by saying he replied with a hearty "YES!". That's my published version and I'm sticking to it. Youngest missed them terribly. It was like the boy was incomplete. Can't we all wish that we had that type of bond in our lives? When a piece of us is missing it's like a piece of us is missing.
I do hope my mother survived the weekend and is brave enough to recuperate and try again...someday. After all, Youngest, in all his intelligence, is definitely going to address this with her when he sees her. I can feel it coming.
Yet, here we are Friday, faced with the possibility that both Chicks could travel out of town for more than a 2 hour window of time. What a priceless thought. I will get to spend quality time with Youngest, the house will be quiet, the girls will have a great time! THANK YOU MAMA! Now, if she blogged, this being Monday, she might not have the same response. She probably went to work just to get some rest. This may wind up being the first, and the last of such trips. In the event that might be true, let me just say we made the most of it. The house was so quiet. Well, after Youngest finished having his complete 20 minute meltdown after Grandma's car pulled away. Several times I went to check on him, sobbing, crying hysterically, sprawled across his bed.
Me: "Are you finished now?"
Youngest: "No! Not finished. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"
And on he went. Very funny that he was able to compose himself enough to give me that determined response. Oldest wondered why I kept bothering to ask him. It's more of a hint than a question, was my theory.
Eventually the little guy pulled himself together. We talked about all the fun time he would have just him and mommy. After such fun time was thoroughly exhausted Saturday afternoon, he wondered when we were going to begin the spoken about "fun time". I had to give him a little talking to about being grateful and appreciative and not always wanting more. What he really wanted was his entertainment-his sisters-back home.
I was able to spend the quiet time in the house watching several movies that I have been wanting to see. Thank you Redbox! Dear John - loved it! :) I have a new superstar crush on Channing Tatum. Where has he been? Loved this love story. Liked it so much I watched it twice. And then we watched Shutter Island. Although I am sworn off scary movies, I thought the plot looked interesting. Hmm, now that I've seen it, let's say disturbing is more like it.
Sunday, the air conditioning had mysteriously gone out at the school we rent for church. During a heat wave, this is not so good. It was sweltering and trying to muster the energy to do anything other than breathe in there was a chore. Service was short and sweet. The Pastor let us know all about the "True Benefits" to having God in your life. Yes folks, it really is to our benefit in every situation we face. Thank God for God.
Somehow we survived the quiet in the house and imagined what life would have been like with only two children, with such a huge age gap in between them. I'll edit Oldest's response to the question:"do you miss your sisters?" by saying he replied with a hearty "YES!". That's my published version and I'm sticking to it. Youngest missed them terribly. It was like the boy was incomplete. Can't we all wish that we had that type of bond in our lives? When a piece of us is missing it's like a piece of us is missing.
I do hope my mother survived the weekend and is brave enough to recuperate and try again...someday. After all, Youngest, in all his intelligence, is definitely going to address this with her when he sees her. I can feel it coming.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
The Boy Can Eat
Friends, let me warn those of you who do not have a 17 year old, 200 pound, 5'10 young man in your home. Guard your refrigerators. For that matter, guard your pantry, your cabinets and your extra stock out in the garage. My goodness!
You know me pretty well, so you likely know that I don't really call myself a friend of cooking. It's a chore that I could easily dispense with. I've, in fact, developed quite the ability to stall in the evening, busying myself with all kinds of activities, such that the Hub naturally spills in the kitchen and takes action. It works for me about 70% of the time. The other 30% I have to suck it up and be a big girl and make something for the fam to eat. Usually on these days, I prepare my mind in advance and make plans to be responsible that evening.
Last night was just such a night. The Hub was doing his favorite activity - landscaping. I jumped in the kitchen and no surprise, had three darling shadows under my armpits through the entire process. Now, Soccer Chick has gotten quite mature these last few months so she takes on more of a babysitter, big sister kind of role to her siblings. She seems to have jumped to my side of the fence and stares at her siblings as if she has to be the problem solver for these pesky situations that tend to arise. With all three noses in my cooking scene business I did my best to make a pasta dish with sauteed chicken tenders topped with stewed tomatoes and vegetables on the side. Friends, it was actually pretty good. I never said I was a bad cook. I just don't like to cook. Big difference.
The Hub was eyebrows deep in cutting the grass and declined to join the meal. Fine with us, as he was literally dripping with sweat when he popped by the window to say hello. So the 5 of us sit down to eat. I watch Oldest load his plate. I did say it was pasta right? Huge helping of pasta with the chicken and he mysteriously didn't notice the vegetables. As I am preparing my plate I notice he is finishing his first plate. On to the second helping. People, by the time we got to the third plate I was feeling stuffed for him. Granted, he is at football camp for 3 hours each day this week. AND, lest the coaches think these boys are slacking, they have workouts 2 hours in the evening each day as well. Knowing all this, it was still amazing to see him sit at the table and eat three large plates of pasta and chicken in one sitting. As he ventured for the fourth, I had to put the brakes on and fix his father a plate to set aside!
Somehow there was enough left over to put in a tupperware container and grace the threshold of the fridge. Hub tells me this morning that after all the house was still and quiet, Oldest creeped to the kitchen once per hour for a span of about four hours to finish off my dear pasta and make pb&j sandwiches to hold him until morning. Folks, we're going through a loaf of bread a day these days.
Consider yourself warned parents. If you have a son you can expect to be fridge-poor between the ages of about 12 and 18. You may get a slight reprieve if he leaves home for college or independent living. Yet, somehow I believe that when that day arrives for us, his appetite won't be that far away. I'm certain that he will make up for it when he comes home. In the meantime, those of you who are taking pity on the remaining Copelands, fighting for scrapes, I'll be sure to send you the address where food donations can be mailed or dropped off.
You know me pretty well, so you likely know that I don't really call myself a friend of cooking. It's a chore that I could easily dispense with. I've, in fact, developed quite the ability to stall in the evening, busying myself with all kinds of activities, such that the Hub naturally spills in the kitchen and takes action. It works for me about 70% of the time. The other 30% I have to suck it up and be a big girl and make something for the fam to eat. Usually on these days, I prepare my mind in advance and make plans to be responsible that evening.
Last night was just such a night. The Hub was doing his favorite activity - landscaping. I jumped in the kitchen and no surprise, had three darling shadows under my armpits through the entire process. Now, Soccer Chick has gotten quite mature these last few months so she takes on more of a babysitter, big sister kind of role to her siblings. She seems to have jumped to my side of the fence and stares at her siblings as if she has to be the problem solver for these pesky situations that tend to arise. With all three noses in my cooking scene business I did my best to make a pasta dish with sauteed chicken tenders topped with stewed tomatoes and vegetables on the side. Friends, it was actually pretty good. I never said I was a bad cook. I just don't like to cook. Big difference.
The Hub was eyebrows deep in cutting the grass and declined to join the meal. Fine with us, as he was literally dripping with sweat when he popped by the window to say hello. So the 5 of us sit down to eat. I watch Oldest load his plate. I did say it was pasta right? Huge helping of pasta with the chicken and he mysteriously didn't notice the vegetables. As I am preparing my plate I notice he is finishing his first plate. On to the second helping. People, by the time we got to the third plate I was feeling stuffed for him. Granted, he is at football camp for 3 hours each day this week. AND, lest the coaches think these boys are slacking, they have workouts 2 hours in the evening each day as well. Knowing all this, it was still amazing to see him sit at the table and eat three large plates of pasta and chicken in one sitting. As he ventured for the fourth, I had to put the brakes on and fix his father a plate to set aside!
Somehow there was enough left over to put in a tupperware container and grace the threshold of the fridge. Hub tells me this morning that after all the house was still and quiet, Oldest creeped to the kitchen once per hour for a span of about four hours to finish off my dear pasta and make pb&j sandwiches to hold him until morning. Folks, we're going through a loaf of bread a day these days.
Consider yourself warned parents. If you have a son you can expect to be fridge-poor between the ages of about 12 and 18. You may get a slight reprieve if he leaves home for college or independent living. Yet, somehow I believe that when that day arrives for us, his appetite won't be that far away. I'm certain that he will make up for it when he comes home. In the meantime, those of you who are taking pity on the remaining Copelands, fighting for scrapes, I'll be sure to send you the address where food donations can be mailed or dropped off.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Me O'Clock
Picture this...It's Friday night, the Hub is out of town for a short trip. He'll be back in a hot minute. Just so happens he will miss the Friday night festivities of hang out time, chill time, TV time, relaxing time. I am so geared up for Friday Night Lights! It's been quite some Fridays since I was home at 8pm. Who's home at 8pm on a Friday? Even I, who does not boast of a social life, am not home most Friday nights at 8pm. I need to connect with my NBC network buds on this one. And people, I have a senior playing Varsity football in September. I will be nowhere near a TV at 8pm. So, not cool. I do want to thank NBC loud and clear for putting those lovely episodes online the next day.
Back to Friday night...my preparation for the big show includes a cop-out on dinner. Pizza! and a rule-breaking affair: "Okay kids, you can eat dinner upstairs, on the floor in front of the TV. Everyone settled? Great! See you in an hour." I know, I know. Major mom-bust of a job there. But hey, it's only Me o'clock once per week. I get them all settled and head to my spot to get situated. I'm in a slight panic because getting everyone settled ran into about 8:03. Did NOT want to miss the first few seconds where they recap what happened last week. So rushing, rushing am I and as I get settled in and find the station I couldn't get the remote act right for a few anxiety-stricken minutes. Finally...NBC! :) Only to have my bubble bursted slowly and painfully as I discover the sad truth, FNL is not on this week. Some quite silly, quite ridiculous program is on in it's place. Oh, the disgrace!
What's a girl to do? I ate my pizza in despair and looked for a substitute. I settled for Wife Swap. People, I have watched this show before and although I have no problem admitting I enjoy a good reality show, this show is awful. I guess because I hold marriage in a very high regard, this show just bugs me. They take the polar opposites of women and set them up for disaster. On this particular disturbing episode we have ritsy etiquette teacher (etiquette teacher, producers, really?!?) versus mud-racing redneck. Guys, it was awful. Just painful to watch. Even I couldn't stomach it. I felt bad for both womena and even worse for each family that was being "highlighted". Folks, I was embarrassed for these families. To be on TV blasting all your goods doesn't always look so good. But, nonetheless, I tried. I gave it a really good try, seeing as how I was all settled for an hour of me o'clock and all. I honestly couldn't handle it.
I had The Notebook from Netflix so I popped that in instead. No one understands how or why I can watch great (and not-so-great) movies alone. I prefer it that way. I have some hard to please folks in my house. Tell me what you would do...watch a movie with critique addicts or watch alone and enjoy the show! That's why I watch alone. I did watch The Notebook and friends, it was great. Just great.
Now, the funny thing about this evening is I put the house back together again and all was well. Kids rested well and so did I. Not the me o'clock I wanted, but it sufficed. That is until 2 days later when the Hub tells the girls to clean their room and spots the paper plate on the floor. "Who ate up here?!?" I have never seen snitches snitch so fast! People, I was busted. There was nothing I could say in my defense. And although it wasn't really funny, I couldn't help but laugh all the way to trashcan. When you're really busted, you're really busted.
I always like to give you a great Youngest piece to finish my thought and start your day. Last night as the Hub and I headed out to meet a church member for coffee I tell Youngest, "you and your sister behave now, okay? No fighting." And Youngest in all his glory says "okay mom, no problem. I'm going to be one hundred fifty seventeen good". People...that's good.
Back to Friday night...my preparation for the big show includes a cop-out on dinner. Pizza! and a rule-breaking affair: "Okay kids, you can eat dinner upstairs, on the floor in front of the TV. Everyone settled? Great! See you in an hour." I know, I know. Major mom-bust of a job there. But hey, it's only Me o'clock once per week. I get them all settled and head to my spot to get situated. I'm in a slight panic because getting everyone settled ran into about 8:03. Did NOT want to miss the first few seconds where they recap what happened last week. So rushing, rushing am I and as I get settled in and find the station I couldn't get the remote act right for a few anxiety-stricken minutes. Finally...NBC! :) Only to have my bubble bursted slowly and painfully as I discover the sad truth, FNL is not on this week. Some quite silly, quite ridiculous program is on in it's place. Oh, the disgrace!
What's a girl to do? I ate my pizza in despair and looked for a substitute. I settled for Wife Swap. People, I have watched this show before and although I have no problem admitting I enjoy a good reality show, this show is awful. I guess because I hold marriage in a very high regard, this show just bugs me. They take the polar opposites of women and set them up for disaster. On this particular disturbing episode we have ritsy etiquette teacher (etiquette teacher, producers, really?!?) versus mud-racing redneck. Guys, it was awful. Just painful to watch. Even I couldn't stomach it. I felt bad for both womena and even worse for each family that was being "highlighted". Folks, I was embarrassed for these families. To be on TV blasting all your goods doesn't always look so good. But, nonetheless, I tried. I gave it a really good try, seeing as how I was all settled for an hour of me o'clock and all. I honestly couldn't handle it.
I had The Notebook from Netflix so I popped that in instead. No one understands how or why I can watch great (and not-so-great) movies alone. I prefer it that way. I have some hard to please folks in my house. Tell me what you would do...watch a movie with critique addicts or watch alone and enjoy the show! That's why I watch alone. I did watch The Notebook and friends, it was great. Just great.
Now, the funny thing about this evening is I put the house back together again and all was well. Kids rested well and so did I. Not the me o'clock I wanted, but it sufficed. That is until 2 days later when the Hub tells the girls to clean their room and spots the paper plate on the floor. "Who ate up here?!?" I have never seen snitches snitch so fast! People, I was busted. There was nothing I could say in my defense. And although it wasn't really funny, I couldn't help but laugh all the way to trashcan. When you're really busted, you're really busted.
I always like to give you a great Youngest piece to finish my thought and start your day. Last night as the Hub and I headed out to meet a church member for coffee I tell Youngest, "you and your sister behave now, okay? No fighting." And Youngest in all his glory says "okay mom, no problem. I'm going to be one hundred fifty seventeen good". People...that's good.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Happy Weekend
Did you catch that thunderstorm on Friday night? Perhaps you weren't close enough to be as jumpy as we were! Goodness. The final clap-blow of the night was a loud pop that sounded like it was inside the house. And seeing as how The Hub was out of town, and it was midnight, there was no way I was going to inspect a thing. That "pop" was pretty loud, but I decided to chalk it up to thunder directly over our head...outside the house of course.
Yes, it was so loud that all the kids came running. It was after midnight so they were all asleep. In fact, Soccer Chick had just come into my room to say how loud the rain and thunder was over her head. She was half asleep so I said "uh-huh" and sent her sleepy butt back to bed. No sooner than she got in there that "pop" hit the house, and they all came running. I do mean "all". From the Youngest all the way up to the Oldest. Have you ever been sitting nicely and had a 200 pound monkey jump up in your lap? That's what the Oldest comin' a runnin' felt like.
Let this be a lesson in "do not ignore things that shouldn't be ignored"! We woke up on Saturday to discover that loud "pop" was an Electrical Magnetic Pulse shot through the house, blowing out several electronic. The fairly new computer I inherited from Grandfather...brain dead. No juice left it in it's tiny boxy body. My modem...murdered. My router, plug-pulled. Let me recreate the loveliness of this situation for you...
Right away we discovered 4 of 5 tv's in the house had blown. They are getting power but no cable. One tv is still getting cable. Wouldn't it happen to be the one in my room. Result = everyone gets to hang out in my room to watch their shows. Let me tell you how ironically fabulous that is. So the cable guy's coming tonight to figure out what we blew up to result in none of the other tv's getting juice. We also knew right away that the new computer was brain dead. I just began transferring all my stuff from the old computer to the new computer this past week. Not even 7 days later I managed to blow that sucker to pieces.
Shortly there after we figured out the modem was a goner. 1st trip to Best Buy to replace the modem. After all the install and set up glory, internet still isn't functioning. Turns out the router was blown too. Now the router fooled me because it was still receiving power. Joke's on me. Power it may have but brain activity it did not. Into the trash she went too. 2nd trip to Best Buy to replace the router this time. Fancy-dancy router in hand, the majority of Sunday evening was spent setting that bad boy up. Now, I am happy to say $200 later we have a brand spanking new router and modem and the same old, slow, airline jet sounding computer.
Pray with me that the TV's are okay. We've had enough deaths in the family for this weekend. I don't think we can handle any more. A saving grace was the Oldest forgot to plug in his laptop to charge. Thank the Lord! It would have blown too. Praise God for forgetful kids. His flat screen tv? Well, that's on the prayer list to be resurrected when the cable guy comes tonight. I'm believing the problem will be simple and easy to correct. Everyone's tvs will resume life and they can resume their positions outside of my room and inside of theirs.
Just to sweeten the deal, in all my frustration over these cards being dealt to me, Youngest looks at me and reads my sadness. "Mom," he says, "I love you one hundred ninety sixteen." Yes people, that really does make it all better.
Yes, it was so loud that all the kids came running. It was after midnight so they were all asleep. In fact, Soccer Chick had just come into my room to say how loud the rain and thunder was over her head. She was half asleep so I said "uh-huh" and sent her sleepy butt back to bed. No sooner than she got in there that "pop" hit the house, and they all came running. I do mean "all". From the Youngest all the way up to the Oldest. Have you ever been sitting nicely and had a 200 pound monkey jump up in your lap? That's what the Oldest comin' a runnin' felt like.
Let this be a lesson in "do not ignore things that shouldn't be ignored"! We woke up on Saturday to discover that loud "pop" was an Electrical Magnetic Pulse shot through the house, blowing out several electronic. The fairly new computer I inherited from Grandfather...brain dead. No juice left it in it's tiny boxy body. My modem...murdered. My router, plug-pulled. Let me recreate the loveliness of this situation for you...
Right away we discovered 4 of 5 tv's in the house had blown. They are getting power but no cable. One tv is still getting cable. Wouldn't it happen to be the one in my room. Result = everyone gets to hang out in my room to watch their shows. Let me tell you how ironically fabulous that is. So the cable guy's coming tonight to figure out what we blew up to result in none of the other tv's getting juice. We also knew right away that the new computer was brain dead. I just began transferring all my stuff from the old computer to the new computer this past week. Not even 7 days later I managed to blow that sucker to pieces.
Shortly there after we figured out the modem was a goner. 1st trip to Best Buy to replace the modem. After all the install and set up glory, internet still isn't functioning. Turns out the router was blown too. Now the router fooled me because it was still receiving power. Joke's on me. Power it may have but brain activity it did not. Into the trash she went too. 2nd trip to Best Buy to replace the router this time. Fancy-dancy router in hand, the majority of Sunday evening was spent setting that bad boy up. Now, I am happy to say $200 later we have a brand spanking new router and modem and the same old, slow, airline jet sounding computer.
Pray with me that the TV's are okay. We've had enough deaths in the family for this weekend. I don't think we can handle any more. A saving grace was the Oldest forgot to plug in his laptop to charge. Thank the Lord! It would have blown too. Praise God for forgetful kids. His flat screen tv? Well, that's on the prayer list to be resurrected when the cable guy comes tonight. I'm believing the problem will be simple and easy to correct. Everyone's tvs will resume life and they can resume their positions outside of my room and inside of theirs.
Just to sweeten the deal, in all my frustration over these cards being dealt to me, Youngest looks at me and reads my sadness. "Mom," he says, "I love you one hundred ninety sixteen." Yes people, that really does make it all better.
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