Why This Mother Hates Mother's Day

**Warning** This post is filled with incessant whining, complaining, and general grumbling. If you're in a chipper bubbly mood, and you don't want to be dragged down by my ceaseless whimpering, now would be a good time to move on. (Hey. This is my blog and I can whine if I want to.)

Ok, so you know how I devoted a whole post on why I hate Secretary's Day? Well, that's NOTHING. Now you get to hear why I loath Mother's Day. Oh, lucky you.

First, some background. My parents are divorced and both remarried. My husband's parents are ALSO divorced, and his dad is remarried. Are you following along? That makes FOUR (count 'em) mothers to worry about on Mother's Day. AND, they all live in this state. AND, they all think, no....they EXPECT that we spend Mother's Day with them. Sigh. (Well, no - slight exaggeration...really, my step-mom is perfectly content with a card, so really, THREE mothers expecting that we drop everything and spend the day pampering them.)

I usually spend my Mother's Day madly cleaning and cooking for one of the above-mentioned mothers. And, no matter what, we end up ticking off a mother on Mother's Day. Because if we choose one mother to have over, the rest will feel left out and mad. So we end up doing something on the Saturday BEFORE Mother's Day for some other above-mentioned mother. I tell ya - I end up exhausted by the end of Mother's Day weekend. Exhausted AND frustrated, because the one left out ends up mad at us for not doing something for them. We deal with this EVERY year. (I think the only person that hates Mother's Day more than me, would be husband. For all these reasons PLUS he gets to listen to ME every year...)

You're probably thinking...why don't have all the mothers over and have a big brunch for all of them? Nope. Can't do that. They're divorced, remember? No one wants to spend Mother's Day with their x-spouse and the new wife. (I don't blame them.)

Or maybe you're thinking that I need to be grateful that I HAVE 4 mothers still around to have over on Mother's Day. Yeah, I know. And I am. Really. I know I will miss all of them some day. (And that guilty feeling will probably overcome me and ruin future Mother's Days.)

Or I know - you're thinking - hey! Those mothers put in their time for a lot of years. They deserve pampering. Yes, you're right, and they do. But in my opinion, so do mothers that are in the throes of motherhood! Am I wrong? The mothers that are up all night with sick kids. The mothers that shuttle their kids to school, sports, activities. The mothers that are trying to be the best mother they can be AND work outside the home. Or the mothers that stay home FULL TIME and have sacrificed to do so for their children. I could go on and on, but I'm sure you get the idea. THESE are the mothers that Mother's Day should be about. These mothers - the ones that selflessly take care of others all year long need ONE day a year for them.

You know what? JUST ONCE, I would like to do something on Mother's Day for meeeeee. I would like to go out to a nice brunch with my husband and kids. And do it GUILT-FREE. This would be heaven for me. Then I would love to come home and sit around leisurely. Or work in the garden. Or take a quiet walk. And not have to cook or clean for anyone! Just ONE day I would love to do this. But alas, this will not happen anytime soon.

Why am I bringing all of this up NOW, in April when Mother's Day is next month? Well, because my husband's sister has announced that her kids are going to be baptized. Which is WONDERFUL! I am thrilled. And I ADORE my niece and nephew. But, guess which day she's picked for this lovely occasion? May 11th. Mother's Day. She wanted them to be baptized on her 'special day' (Mother's Day.) Which, I agree, is nice. BUT, it's also my special day. And every other mother that has to go's 'special day'. And this sister lives 1 1/2 hours away. So on Mother's Day THIS year, we will be getting up at the crack of dawn. I will be getting three children ready for church in the wee hours of the morning, and we will be on the road with three sleepy grumpy kids. And with the ceremony and reception afterwards, won't get home until late afternoon or evening.

Another Mother's Day down the tubes. The only good part? Two of the above-mentioned mothers will probably be at the baptism also. So I will only tick off MY mother this year. So there's your silver lining in the rain cloud.

Sigh. I TOLD you this post would be nothing but whining. But I'm done now. And it felt good to let it all out. And now I will put my happy face BACK on and buck up.

But before I do, let me say this: I am paying attention. I am taking notes and I will remember. When MY kids are all grown up? When MY daughter is a mother? I will make sure SHE gets pampered. And my sons? I will will make sure they pamper their wives when they are in the throes of motherhood. THAT's the real silver lining.

Checkin' on the Girls

Ok, so you remember a couple of weeks ago when the bees arrived? And we introduced them to their new home, our two new hives? Well, this past weekend, it was warm enough to open the hives and pay a visit to see how the girls were doing.

So of course, the first step is to don our bee suits. Here I am in mine!

We have three hives. One established one, and two new ones. We opened up the new ones first. Wow! They looked good. (Or at least from everything we've read, and from talking to longtime beekeepers, we think they looked good!)

See those frames of comb that my husband is looking at? Each frame contains about 7000 cells. The bees use these cells for storing food, making honey, and raising brood. Every time we inspect our colony, it's important that we note what's going on in these cells, because it helps us judge the performance and health of our bees. So we look for ample pollen and nectar, lots of eggs and brood, and if the wax cappings look normal.

Since this was the first time in the NEW hives, we took out the queen cage and made sure the queen had been released. Remember what that is? When the bees arrived, the queen was plugged (with a candy plug) in her cage. We found the cage, and as you can see, the plug is GONE, and the queen had been released. GOOD NEWS! In fact, everything about the two new hives looked great! We found signs that the queen has been busy. There were several eggs and lots of new larvae in the 'brooding chamber.' Yay! That means the hive has accepted the queen, and she is busy doing her job.

Do you see the queen in there? Ha ha. Yeah, she's impossible to see. Here's a closeup. See how's she's much longer than the others? And her markings are a little different.

Anyway, so everything looked wonderful. We're getting off to a great start!

As I'm sure you've figured out, my husband and I both LOVE beekeeping. We really love our bees! I know that sounds weird, but we truly do. We look forward to when we get to visit their hives again! They're such remarkable insects, with amazing endearing qualities. They're really very gentle creatures. Even though we have 3 hives, with bees flying all over our property, no one (visitors nor the 5 of us!) has ever been stung.

I think anyone that loves nature in its purest form would love bees and beekeeping like we do. It's a wonderful hobby!

My Baby Boy

Dear Cole,

Today you are 8. EIGHT! Wow. I can't even hardly believe it. You are such a big boy now. And what a wonderful boy you are!

I remember the day you were born. I had labor pains all day long, and when they got so bad I couldn't stand it, I told Daddy to get me to the hospital fast! I remember the doctors tried to tell me that my labor wasn't real, and that I should go home. I argued and argued with them because I KNEW you were coming fast! You were my third baby - I knew what I was talking about! But they insisted you were days away from arriving. I finally agreed to get up and go home and that's when you decided you'd make your entrance RIGHT THERE AND THEN! Ha ha! You freaked all the doctors and nurses out. (But I KNEW! I knew my baby boy wanted to make his arrival!) But when they got me QUICKLY settled back in bed and when you were born (so fast!) the excitement soon turned to worry. There was no cry. There was only silence and lots of concerned looks on doctors and nurses faces. And Daddy wasn't smiling. I didn't know it yet, but you were having difficulty breathing. Before I could even hold you, they rushed you off to the neonatal intensive care. We found out later that the umbilical cord was wrapped around your little neck twice. But they had you on oxygen for only a short time (an hour or so) and you rallied! You turned pink and started wailing like newborn babies do! I was never so glad to hold my newborn Coley as that moment they first brought you in. I smiled all night long holding you! Just you and me...

And ever since then? You're still making me smile. You have SUCH a sense of humor. You LOVE making others laugh. (Even if it means getting in trouble.) Teachers, coaches, and principals don't appreciate your humor as much as Mommy and Daddy do! Others see a goofball little boy, but what they don't see is your heart of gold. You don't show very many people, but when you do...it shines brightly!

I remember last summer after a week of daycamp, I went to your counselor to sign you out. He asked me to step aside because he needed to have a 'word' with me. (Ooooh no. I wondered what silly thing you might have done to get in trouble...) But this thought quickly faded as he began to tell me what you'd done all week. He said you befriended a little boy that didn't have anyone to play with. You gave him money every day (money that I'd given you!) so that he could go to the camp store and buy himself candy. He said you even prayed with him every day so that he could accept Jesus into his heart. Oh man. THAT, I think, was my proudest moment as your Mommy so far. I cried all the way home. They were tears of joy and tears of pride. My baby boy, who appeared to be a goofball on the outside, knew what it was all about. You knew then, at the tender age of 7, more than most grown-ups do, what it meant to be compassionate and Christ-like. I am looking forward to watching you grow (and savoring every moment!) so I can watch how you surprise others with your amazing qualities.

So today on your birthday, I asked you what you wanted for your birthday lunch. And as predicted, you chose avocados and cucumbers, with a side of vanilla soy milk. Ha ha! I knew you'd chose that, and I already had all of it purchased. What a funny boy you are. Your brother and sister didn't understand why you didn't chose candy or pizza or McDonalds. But you know what you like!

I hope some day when you're older, you read this. Because even know I've told you before, I want you to understand that I feel so incredibly blessed to have you as my son. There is no greater joy for a mother than to celebrate another year of watching her children grow. Another year of the 5 us being a family. Another year of watching you take a step closer to making your way in the world. I want you to know that I consider you as one of my absolute BLESSINGS in my life. I thank God for you each and every day. I love you, my sweet Cole. My brilliant, funny, kind, precious 8-year-old boy. Happy birthday.

Love, Mommy

Let's Make Up a Day, Go Out and Buy Flowers and Call it a Holiday, Shall We?

Ok.  So yesterday was Secretary's Day.  Or I guess it's now called "Administrative Assistant's" Day or "Administrative Professional's" Day.  Yeah, whatever. 

Sigh.

I will admit it - I hate Secretary's Day.  I do.  Part of this hatred stems from the fact that this is yet another irritating, ridiculous, made-up "holiday" that Hallmark created.  Another reason this day bothers me?  Well, because I never thought I'd be a secretary, and sometimes I can't get my brain around that I AM a secretary.  (By the way, this in no way is meant to degrade secretaries or administrative assistants or WHATEVER.  I am one, remember?)  Anyhoo, I didn't go to college to become a secretary.  I didn't get a Microbiology degree to become a secretary.  When I was a little girl, I didn't sit and dream of becoming a secretary.  (I know - this sounds awful.  It sounds like I'm being condescending toward secretaries.  That's not really what I want to do.  Really.  I DO think I make a difference in the lives of children here.  Don't believe me?  Read this post from last month.  But I'm saying I don't really want a day to point out that yes, indeed, I am a secretary.)

Ok.

So, yesterday, no one even remembered it was Secretary's Day.  Thank you, God.  Well, no one EXCEPT one of the third grade classes.  The students in that class made me some cards.  They drew me pictures, and wrote me lovely things.  And, oh my!  Some made me laugh out loud and some even made me cry.  Here are some, word for word:

"You are cute like this cat I drew. I wanted to buy you a cat but really where would I get the money?  I'm a kid remember? And your a secretary. And a pretty good one. But a cat would NOT be. Becase they can't type or get out band-aides."

 

"Thank you for all you do for us and you are the best ever. You sit in the office all day.  Gees you do that a lot. Don't you need a break? Why don't you take one for once. Today would be good for that."

 

"Happy birthd  Happy Secretary Day. I hope you have a good day. I hope you have a good week.  Heck I hope you have a great life."

 
And my favorite...

"Thank you for being are secretary. It must take a lot of coordination.  Did you go to school for that?  What. you got up one day and said hello I want to be the secretary at the best school ever?  ___yes  ___no  Well that's great.  Well I think I want to be one. If my mom allowed it maybe I could. Do you hafe to buy your own ice packs and bandaides?  And your computer to?  What. you just go in the store and say i am a secretary and need a computer. Oh I don't have that kind of money.  I only get $3 for allowence.  You sure give out alot of ice packs. And hugs. Doesn't this ever get tiring?  Or what. You hugged me after i gotted my splinter taken out. Remember God and Jesus love you"

I may have to change my stance on Secretary's Day because these cards are the best, aren't they?! 

Wordless Wednesday: Bald Eagle!

Every year in the Spring, the eagles show up around our property. They seem to love this tree, with the top broken off. We live sort of near a large river. So I think they rest here between hunting jaunts at the river. This one looks so majestic!

Wordless Wednesday

Weekend in Review

Well, first of all, it SNOWED ALL WEEKEND. Yes, SNOW. Ugh. It didn't stick, but still. SNOW. In APRIL.

It was way too cold to get into hives to see how the bees were doing since we introduced them to their new hive. Hopefully this week, we can check on them.

BUT, look at THIS!

This is called an observation hive. My husband got it for me! It will go inside the house. See that tube? That will lead out the window so the bees can go outside through the tube, pollinate and do their thing, but come home through the tube to their hive INSIDE. It's glass so we can see what they're doing inside! And of course the whole thing is sealed so there's no danger of bees getting out inside the house. Cool, huh? (Maybe kinda creepy, but mostly cool!) Of course I won't have it there smack in the middle of my kitchen table. I'll put in near a window. But, I can't wait until we get it set up and operational. All we need is a queen, and a frame of honey bees. Stay tuned for that!

But anyway, back to the weekend. It was a very slow one around our place. Because of the snow, and also because poor Gage was SICK SICK SICK. He had a high fever all weekend. I always feel a little bit of a happy guilty thing when Gage is sick. Why? Because he's always so cuddly when he's sick. Gage is 11. So I know I'm on borrowed time with the cuddle factor. So whenever he wants to cuddle, I enjoy it so much, even thought I feel badly that he's sick. Ha. Gage says he'll want to cuddle with his mom even when he's a teenager. I hope he's right! You can be sure that I will remind him of that then.

Sunday afternoon, Lexi and I went to a birthday party for her friend. Here she is going down the big slide! Wheeee! Fun.

Okie dokie. Back to cuddling my big boy.

TGIF

First off - a shout out to my beautiful niece, Christina, who turns 20 today.   WOOT!  Happy birthday, Christina!  I remember when you were born.  I was away at college, just 19 (a year younger than you are now!)  Your dad called me and gave me the good news.  I was so excited!  I yelled to all my friends at my dorm.  "MY SISTER JUST HAD A BABY!  A BABY GIRL!!  HER NAME IS CHRISTINA AND SHE'S PERFECT!!"  Yeah, they weren't as excited as me, but that's ok.  I was excited enough for all of us.  So, happy birthday, Christina!  Hope it's a wonderful one!

Other than that, I really don't have anything earth-shattering to say.  I just was excited to try out Windows Live Writer.  Have you heard of it?  Lynn told me about it, and it's so cool!  (Thanks, Lynn!!)  "Windows Live Writer is a desktop application that makes it easy to publish rich content to your blog." You can make your pictures look cool, like the one below.

I do have one sad thing to report.  We found out this week that our dog, Callie (shown here with Cole.  Callie thinks Cole is one of her littermates..) has epilepsy.  She's had a couple of seizures in about a 2 or 3 month period of time.  The vet confirmed it for us this week.  It's epilepsy, and she has to be on medicine.  The medicine will help, but will make her groggy.  I just hope the medication takes care of the seizures.  Callie is always so scared and disoriented after she has one.  It's scary for us, too.  Poor baby.

In other news, this story was not good news for us beekeepers:  "Keepers: Dying bees may sting state's crops"  Eeek.  Hope they figure THAT out soon.  What a bummer it would be to lose part or all of our bees.

Ok, that's all for now.  I'll close with this funny picture I took of the pigs.  They're not little and pink anymore, are they?!  Look how dirty they are and how dirt-caked those snouts are!

'L' Socks: The Bain of my Existence

My son, Cole has decided that he will only wear 'L' socks. That's right. 'L' socks. What are 'L' socks, you ask? Well, let me educate you, because before this week, I didn't know either.

'L' socks are ordinary white socks. BUT they have a little black 'L' embroidered on the toe. This means 'large'. Apparently I bought these sometime ago, and it was since deemed that these socks are superior to any other socks on the planet. But, Cole owns exactly 3 pairs of 'L' socks. Do you see my dilemma? THREE pairs, not 7. That leaves four non-'L' sock days in the week.

Earlier this week, Cole woke up on the wrong side of....the bed? No, more like the wrong side of life. He was TICKED that there were no more 'L' socks in his drawer. We were late to school because of these dang 'L' socks.

I tried my best to change his mind. BELIEVE me. "How 'bout these socks instead, Cole? They're nice and cozy looking and would look GREAT on your feet!!" I said in the most chirpy voice I could conjure up at 6 am.

"Do they have 'L' s on them?"

"Uh. Well, Cole...not exactly. Um, well, no. No they don't."

Ridiculous. These are mornings no one tells you about. Seriously. When you're pregnant and all excited and glowing with anticipation for this new precious baby, no one ever clues you in the way it really is.

I'm thinking that when everybody is all happy dappy at a baby shower, sipping punch and oohing and ahhing over little cute baby booties, someone needs to pull the expectant mother aside and show her a little video or a reality slideshow or something. And they need to say, "Look. I know everything seems lovely and exciting now. But you need to know that it IS possible that this little bundle of joy might possibly make you late to work because he will decide one day that he will only wear 'L' socks. And you will tear your hair out over this. Now go back and enjoy your little baby shower games and your tea and cake. Because YOUR TIME IS COMING, sister."

Anyway.

Cole and I went 'round and 'round that morning. My chirpy voice was GONE. My smile: GONE, along with my patience. My 'Wrath of Mommy Voice' came out in full force. Cole finally stubbornly agreed to put on a dirty pair of 'L' socks (amongst tears and tantrums - MINE and his...) and finally we got out of the door. To save my sanity, I made a mental note to track down more 'L' socks that afternoon.

Ummm...yeah. Apparently 'L' socks are no longer being produced and not available anywhere in the entire Western United States.

I'm telling you, I looked in every store that has ever even THOUGHT about selling socks, and nothing. Nada. Zip. NO 'L' SOCKS TO BE FOUND. And with the money I burned through in gas, I could have bought a loom and made my own frickin' 'L' socks.

So today I broke the news to Cole. "You know what Cole? They just don't make 'L' socks anymore. I'm sorry, buddy. I looked and looked. But I just can't find them anywhere. You'll just have to wear your other socks."

"Oh ok, Mom. No big deal. I don't really like 'L' socks anymore anyway."

Wow.

SIGH.

Yeah. It's a good thing I'm not picky about what kind of wine I like. Because tonight? I'm pouring myself a nice 'L' glass of whatever we have on hand

Wordless Wednesday: Rainbow Between Rain Storms

This photo didn't capture the vivid colors as I'd hoped, but I think this rainbow is the prettiest I've ever seen! It showed up Sunday afternoon after a rain shower. About 20 seconds after I took this shot, it started down-pouring again. (I know - I posted a rainbow picture not too long ago. But this was so pretty, I had to post it.)

The Bees Have Landed

Springtime means BEES! Well, for us beekeepers, that is. And Friday afternoon, our honey bees arrived! This is a highly anticipated event, because in order to have bees guaranteed in the Spring, you have to have them ordered all the way back in November.

They're delivered in little wire mesh boxes:

(See Gage's face in the second picture? He was all, "Take a picture of me behind the box and everyone will think the bees are swarming me!")

Anyway, we received two boxes just like that full of bees. You can't really tell, but in the middle of that swarm, is the queen cage holding the queen bee. I have a picture of the cage below.

The tricky part of this whole thing? We have to get all those bees into their new home - our hive! We have two packages of bees, so we have two hives like this all set up and ready for their new inhabitants.

To get the bees ready for the transfer, the first thing we did is spray their wings with sugar water.

This makes their wings sticky and wet so the bees can't fly away. Then, we (you understand that when I say we, I really mean my husband, Derek) pried open the package, and found the queen cage.

You can't really see her because her workers are swarming her, but she's in there. See those nails? You use those to hang the cage in the hive. There's a 'candy' cork keeping her in the cage. But in a few days? The workers will have eaten that away, releasing her. She's the key to the success of the whole hive!

After we hung the queen cage in the hive, we (you know - Derek) basically poured the other bees in the hive, carefully replaced the frames, and let them do their thing.

Now it's real important to leave the hives alone for at least a week, because if the bees get disturbed, they could kill their queen. But after that week, we will open the hives again and make sure the queen has been released from the cage, and that she has begun laying eggs. That means the bees have accepted her as their leader and everything is hunky dory.

One day after transfer, the worker bees seemed settled in and were going in and out of the hive:

So far so good! We shall see...

They Say it's Your Birthday

Today I turn 39 years old. Wow.

I don't really freak out about birthdays. They just sorta....are. (This may change next year when I turn 40, I don't know.) But I can hardly believe I'm 39. I still feel like I'm in my 20's. Time sure creeps up on you, doesn't it?

Someone asked me what was the earliest birthday I can remember. I didn't really have an answer for them. I don't really remember specific birthdays growing up. I'm not sure why. Do you? I have early fleeting memories of childhood, but not really memories of birthdays. But then, as I got to thinking, I started remembering my 8th birthday.

Isn't it funny how memories come flooding back sometimes? You start remembering one thing, and that leads to another and another...

It was 1977, and we were living in Seattle.

First, a little background...I spent basically my whole childhood in a very small town in Alaska. (I mean really small - like 3000 people.) First grade through my junior year in high school was spent in the same small school district. (Although we moved my senior year - my LAST year of school. Yes, I'm still bitter about it, but that's a whole other post. I can hear my sister groaning from here...)

But anyway, in second grade, we moved to Seattle for a few months in the Spring of 1977. My mom was escaping a very abusive alcoholic husband. It was a very tumultuous confusing time. Things came to a very scary horrible head one day, and it was clear - we needed to get outta Dodge. So we did just that - we picked up one day and moved to Seattle, where my mom's parents lived. We moved from a large log home with a lot of property in Alaska, to a tiny dumpy duplex in the middle of a big city in a whole other state. It was scary and bewildering.

ANYway, back to my 8th birthday. I remember we spent it at my grandparent's house in downtown Seattle. I had never really met my grandparents before we moved to Seattle, so I was still getting to know them.

There are several specific things I remember about that day:

• My birthday was on Easter Sunday that year. (This is the only time in my life that my birthday has ever fallen on Easter. FYI: It happens again in the year 2039... when I turn 70.)


• My Grandma served Twinkies, and she served them unwrapped and on plates. (I found this extremely bizarre.)


• I got a ceramic pig piggy bank for my birthday. (Which broke on the move back to Alaska a few weeks later.)


• I also got a Winnie-the-Pooh battery-operated radio from my Aunt Linda. (This was my prize possession for many years afterwards. When President Reagan was shot a few years later? I listened to the news unfold from this radio. I was at school, at recess, all by myself listening with my smuggled radio.)


• I remember missing my older brother (He still lived in Alaska with the abusive soon-to-be ex-husband. That's another long story.)


• I also remember missing my Dad terribly. He also still lived in Alaska. (By the way, he was not the abusive husband we were running from.) 31 years later, I STILL miss my Dad terribly. For different reasons. :(


• My Grandpa ate his Easter ham with mustard. (I thought it was weird then, but now? I also eat my ham this way.) :)


• We ate Easter dinner early. Like 2:00 pm. (Why? I still don't get this. Why do people eat holiday dinners super early? I don't know. Or maybe not everyone does that?)


• We took a walk after dinner - me, my sister Carol, my mom, my Aunt Linda, and my Aunt's two huge German shepherds, Buck and Nicky. My mom started crying during the walk. This confused me, because it was my birthday. Isn't everybody happy on birthdays? Now I know she must have been crying about the whole sad situation our lives had become.

That's it...my little trip down memory lane. I wish I could go back and tell my 8-year-old self that everything will be ok. I was such a worrier then. Who am I kidding? I'm still a worrier. But I've been working on that...

It makes me wonder what my son (who is also turning 8 in a couple of weeks) will remember when he looks back. I hope and pray my kids have better memories than I do. Not that all my memories are bad. Some are pretty great. But there are enough bad ones smattered in there. I guess everyone has those, huh?

Anyway, my life is so much better now at age 39. In fact, life is dang good. I am truly blessed. And I am so very thankful.

Truck Driver in the Making

I tell ya, working at an elementary school, I never have a shortage of entertainment.

Today, a first grader came to the office. He was being sent to the principal because he was in "big trouble." I need to preface this by saying this kid is very cute. He is very short for his age, is normally very sweet, and talks with a lisp.

Adorable.

So this kid shows up at my office with his eyes brimming with tears. He sat down, and when he did, his feet barely hung over the seat of the chair.

Him: "I'm in big twouble"

Me: "Why? What happened?"

Him: "I said a bad worwd."

Me: "You did? What did you say?" afraid to ask...

Him: "Cwap."

Me: "Crap?"

Him: "Yeah. Cwap."

Me: trying not to laugh "Well, you know what? We don't say that word at school"

Him: "Yeah. I know dat now."

Me: "Are you allowed to say that word at home?"

Him: "No. But my mom says it. A WOT."

Me: "Well, now you know that it's a bad word and we don't say it. So do I have your word that you won't say it ever again?"

Him: "Yeah. I won't."

Me: "Promise?"

Him: "Pwomise."

Me: "Ok, well because I know you'll never say it ever again, I'm going to give you grace. You don't have to see the principal."

Him: looking very relieved "Oh whew! Fanks!"

Me: "You're welcome. Ok, now go back to class. And remember what we talked about."

Him: "Oh I will." scooting off the chair...

Me: "Ok, good. See ya later."

Him: "DAMMIT! My shoe's untied!"

Blink...

Blink. Blink.

Ummm, yeah. My grace ran out. Cute or not, the kid went to the principal's office.

Evidently, My Daughter Listens More Attentively Than I Thought

Let me set the scene for you.

It was last night and I was in the kitchen making dinner. My husband was sitting at the kitchen bar with a cup of coffee. (I specifically remember this, because said coffee will shortly be snorted out of nose.)

Gage was in front of his X-box playing some mindless game.

Cole? I don't remember where he was. He was, no doubt, somewhere doing some Cole-thing, happily oblivious.

But, Lexi was Mad.

TICKED OFF.

I seriously don't even know why. None of us did. She was ANGRY with her big brother. He did something, we don't know what, and he was completely unaware of her rage. Like I said, he was playing his game, in 'the zone' and had no freaking clue that Lexi was standing 2 feet from him yelling. (This, I'm guessing, added to her fury.)

Lexi: "GAGE! I am so MAD AT YOU!" See? Told ya.

Gage: "...."

Lexi: "I can't even BELIEVE you're on this PLANET. You make me SO UNBELIEVABLY ANGRY!"

Gage: "...."

Lexi "You know what? I don't even believe that I'm your SISTER, because you're so MEAN and SELFISH, and I'm so NOT!" Remember, this girl is 9 years old. For later. You need to remember this.

Gage: "...."

Lexi: "You know what else? You are such a .... Such a complete...." Now she's racking her brain trying to figure out the WORST name she can call him without getting in trouble...

Lexi: "You totally remind me of SUCH A..." Still screeching, still thinking...

Gage: "...."

Lexi: "YOU are no better than...You know WHAT??? You are EXACTLY LIKE...
HILLARY CLINTON!"

I kid you NOT, my daughter said this.

Best Commercial EVER

You can't HELP but feel giddy after watching this:

A Tale of 2 Boys...and of a Mother's Tears

First, a tale of two boys:

BOY #1: There is a 10-year old boy that just started at our school this week. His name is Mark, and he's in 4th grade. His story is very sad. He has lived in Texas all of his life. His mom got sick, was on life support for a bit, and then tragically, died last week leaving Mark an orphan. His half-sister (a grown woman) who'd he only met a handful of times, went down to Texas to bury her mother. She soon realized that her half-brother Mark had no one left in this world. So this sister, a single parent, took Mark back to this state to live with her and her 5-year old son. This 5-year old is a student here at our school, so she enrolled Mark here, as well.

Mark started school Monday, which also happened to be his 10th birthday. As you can imagine, he's a very sad boy. He's very quiet and shy. He doesn't interact with the other kids. He doesn't play at recess. He's a very heartbroken, defeated, overwhelmed little boy.

Boy #2: This is my boy, my 7-year old son, Cole. If you've read my blog before, you probably know that Cole is a goof-ball. Unlike my older two children, Cole is not a Rule Follower. (Remember the Butt Crack song? That's just a taste of Cole's antics.) Cole is the source of many a gray hair on my head (and lots more to come, I'm sure.) He tends to get in trouble at school. Not terrible trouble. He doesn't do malicious things. He just.....likes to entertain. He will risk getting in trouble for a few laughs. Not many people know that Cole also has a heart of gold. Under all that goofiness, he's very sweet.

Ok, so back to Boy #1, Mark. As you can imagine, we pray for Mark at home. A lot. I have a tender spot for him, and several times a day, I put my work at school on hold, and go and check on Mark. I usually find him alone and lost in his own thoughts. Considering everything he has been through just in the last couple of weeks, he's doing pretty well, but still, he's very very sad.

So yesterday, apparently, Cole wrote Mark a note and gave it to him at recess. (Keep in mind that Cole is a 2nd grader, and Mark, a 4th grader.) Mark was thrilled with the note and told his teacher about it. The teacher did not see the note & misunderstood why Mark was telling her about it. She thought he was upset, so wanting to protect Mark, she told Cole's teacher. Cole's teacher also incorrectly assumed that this must not be a good note, and she told the principal.

I found out about all of this when the story reached the principal. (Still, only a story. An incorrect story. With no note to back it up.) My heart broke in two. I was so sad and disappointed that the automatic assumption was that this note must be mean, without even seeing it, or talking to Mark or Cole. So, I tracked down this elusive note and read it for myself.

Now comes a Mother's tears.

Here is Cole's note, word for word:

Dear Mark,
Well I was just wondering if we can be frends because you are new here and it is your second day right? You don't seem like you have much frends so I want to be your new freind. Pretend it is yesterday so I can say Happy Birthday! You are speshal to me and did you know also to Jesus? I want to play with you at recess. Meet me on the playground and we'll play a fun game I know ok? I can't wait to start being your freind.

Your New Second Grade Freind,
Cole

Yes, I tell you, tears streamed down my face as I read this beautiful little note. What a wonderful way to reach out to this boy. If only people could see Cole the way that I do. If only they could see this generous act of kindness offered to a despairing boy that needed it so.

Today I heard that now Cole and Mark have started playing. And the recess teachers tell me that for the first time, Mark has started smiling. He is excited to play with his New Second Grade Friend.

Later, after composing myself, I told Cole how so very proud I am of him. I told him how special this note was to Mark, and what a wonderful thing he did to reach out and make a friend with this new boy.

Cole was confused. He didn't understand why I even brought it up. To him, this note was a no-brainer.

He said, "But Mom. I have Jesus in my heart. This is what you do when you have Jesus in your heart. You help people that are hurting."

And the tears began flowing again.

Wordless Wednesday: Babies Hatching in the Garden!

Remember my post about the Killdeers nesting in the garden? Well, yesterday they started hatching!!

There were two when I got home from work:

An hour later - three:

And still three when I went to bed:

I'll keep an eye on that 4th one. :)

Crush Your Ego to Smithereens for the Bargain Price of $45

The last time I got my hair cut, I bought some 'product.' Yes, I admit, I caved.

I mean, usually, I resist buying hair products at the salon, because my hair lady is so darn expensive as it is. But isn't it hard to find a good hair dresser? It's so hard for me. I finally found a lady I like now. But her prices keep going up. The last time I was in, I spent $60 for her to trim my split ends. Gees! Between the gas I spend getting there, and the haircut, I'm out like $10 per split end or something.

Anyhoo.

As I said, this last time, after my haircut, my lady asked what shampoo I use. Man, you should have seen her face contort in horror when I answered, "Aussie." I might as well have said, "Cow crap." She was not happy with me. So she went on and on about how terrible the dreaded 'store-bought' shampoos are. Blah blah blah. (They can't be that bad, can they? It's not like my hair is color treated or anything. And I haven't had a perm since the '80's. I have pretty healthy hair I would say. Or so I thought.) But this woman basically said these substandard shampoos are nothing but wax and alcohol. "Soooooo drying to your hair! Waaaaaay too harsh on the hair shaft." Whatever.

So I asked her what she recommended for me. (BIG mistake.) She launched in this whole huge drawn out diatribe about advanced formulas and yada yada yada. I just glazed over and tuned out. And finally, basically, to shut her up, I bought the stupid shampoo she gave me and went home. Correction...I went home minus another $45. For shampoo. (We're over $100 now to trim up a few split ends and a couple week's worth of shampoo. Ouch. Aussie is what - $3.50 or something? This salon stuff better be good.)

So this morning, I finally took a look at this fancy schmancy $45 bottle of shampoo. What was so great about the stuff, I wondered. Was the bottle trimmed in 24 karat gold? Was it made up of nectar from a rare botanical? Was there water in there from hot springs only found on some tiny tropical island halfway around the world?

I don't have a clue. Because I never got past the title:

Age Recharge??

Ummm...my hair is old? I need to 'age recharge' it?? Since when?

It says on the back that this shampoo is wonderful because the hair becomes "hydrated, softened and comfortable, and the scalp once again becomes a source of vitality. Hair is transformed – regaining the substance, suppleness and shine of youth."

I need all of this at the ripe ol' age of 38? I wasn't aware of the fact that my scalp had lost it's source of vitality. Or that my hair lost it's suppleness and shine of youth.

Uh - WHEN exactly did this happen??

Wow.

What are they gonna tell me I need when I'm 50? I'm gonna need some sort of $100 bottle of 'Nearly Dead Recharge' or something. 'One Foot in the Grave Miracle Serum' for just $125, or 'Don't Even Think About Using Your Usual Cow Crap Shampoo Because Grim Death is Right Around the Corner' shampoo. Gees.

I'm thinking I'm gonna stick with my Aussie after this. Not a single person at the grocery store tells me I'm old. And instead of grim tales of old tired non-youthful hair on the bottle, there's a happy purple kangaroo. AND with the $41.50 savings, I'll start a fund for the face lift I'm going to need soon. I mean if my hair has lost the vitality & suppleness of youth, I shudder to think what's happening to my nearly 39-year-old face. :(