Musings

Projects on the list.

2012-01-07T16:09:00.000-08:00

Just a few days left in my eldest son's Winter Break from school. These last few weeks around here have been very lazy and laid back. Lots of playing, Lego building, electronics experiments and the like. I don't think I've cleaned up the house since Christmas day...better get on that I suppose.

For my part, I've been hibernating inside the house so much I'm starting to feel all lethargic from the lack of sunshine. A trip to the grocery store saw some Vitamin D now up in the cupboard.

Once the big boy returns back to school, I plan on getting the house back into order and getting some work done on a few projects:

1. That birthday apron that has sat unfinished for WAY too long. Sorry about that, Colleen.
2. A sturdy winter skirt done up in brown.
3. Fixing the badly done hem on that black and white skirt I bought LAST year.
4. A pair of jean quilts, one for each of the boys.
5. The return of the weekly bread baking.

There might be some other projects thrown in there, but that's sure enough to get me started. I'm determined to be more productive this year. So, if you ask me what's my current project and if I am working on it, don't let me give you any excuses about not working on them. Just tell me I'm being lazy and to get my rear in gear. I give you permission. I might grumble about the kick in the pants (er, skirt I mean) but I appreciate it nonetheless.

Humanity, the destruction of us

2011-11-01T04:53:00.000-07:00

I despair of the world today. Supposedly, we live in an enlightened age, modern. However, I see so many parallels of this age to the one in which the ancient Noah lived. In his time, the men of the world were so very disposed towards evil, towards sin, that there was only one single man that still loved the Lord—Noah himself. Only one.

Currently we are all marveling over the world reaching a 7 Billion population mark, which evidently means that our advancements in the medical field have been keeping more and more people alive then ever before. I see that 7 billion mark rising, yet I see that the number of people in this human race truly loving the Lord dwindling.

So I despair. I despair over this belief I hold: humankind has become too smart for it’s own good and we hold too high a regard for the power of humanity. We are our own destruction.

Advancements in science, in technology and in ideas are commonly seen to be good for everyone, in no way harmful to us. The general idea being that all of these advancements only make our lives easier and better.

The Oxford Dictionary has this description that interests me:

modern:

·of or relating to the present or recent times as opposed to the remote past.

·characterized by or using the most up-to-date techniques, ideas, or equipment.

·[ attrib. ] denoting the form of a language that is currently used, as opposed to any earlier form.

·[ attrib. ] denoting a current or recent style or trend in art, architecture, or other cultural activity marked by a significant departure from traditional styles and values.

We have consequences to all of our modern advancements. We have scientists, authors, professors etc. with degrees—that ultimate showing of worth called “higher learning”—trying to convince all the rest of us that there really is no God, no divine Creator that made it all.

We have all the scientists that insist that faith and belief is a myth, that there is only room for so-called scientific facts, “facts” that are themselves only theories that have yet to be proven. We have scientists working to engineer food from chemicals to feed our masses, instead of real food.

We have technology that makes information instantly available to our fingertips and brings pornography into view with a single click. We give the newest technology to our teenagers enabling them to be “cyber” bullies destructing the lives of other kids. We enable our children to be unaccountable allowing them to spread gossip, slander and maliciousness among their peers with Tweets, texts and facebook updates.

We have intellectual ideas thrown around (“we are the 99%”) leading to protests and strife in a country that is renowned for it’s freedoms, it’s liberties and it’s entitlements. While arguments of ideas abound, around the globe we see millions of people being starved to death, abused or killed.

We live in a world where this “idea” is numerous and plentiful:

"In this modern day of science, there is no acceptable, appropriate, or moral substitute for professional medical care. "Faith" is nothing more than a mental construct; it does not accomplish anything tangible."

I just read this quote tonight. It was taken from a comment made to an article written about my neighbors, Shannon and Dale Hickman, and the sentence of 6 years in prison they were just given. They were tried for the death of their newborn infant son, who lived just a few hours after being born premature.

It does not matter whether or not I share my neighbors belief system. They have their beliefs and I have mine. What matters, and is so very concerning to me, is that we have so-called enlightened, modern people actively judging each other on our beliefs and values. We have laws that force so-called free people to get medical care whether it is wanted or not. We humans are all just so very smart, we seem to know just what is right and good for everyone else. We judge certain sets of parents, label them monsters and declare that they should rightly be hanged instead of imprisoned. All because we are outraged that a premature baby was supposedly just allowed to die while the parents did nothing but pray. But, let’s not talk about all the babies everyday that women ACTUALLY chose to murder by way of abortion. Let's not talk about that because the law allows it, it is legal, and if you follow the logic, is moral.

These quoted comments illustrate my point nicely:

“As long as you murder the child while it is still in the womb the "State" is OK with it and so are most of the people that are happy with the verdict. What if the State began to charge men and women who had abortions?”

“One word. Viability. The question you ask has been argued before. Really it has. The pro choice would say a child is not alive until it is born.”

“Frankly I could have cared less if they killed their own infant quickly, but they basically tortured it to death over 7 hours, that is messed up.”

The argument of ideas above is all too typical. Humankind can get all hyped up about a single case involving a belief system, faith, different than our own and we will judge and argue because the “LAW” of the land is on our side. Yet we can ignore millions because the law says that they are a non-issue.

Our modern, enlightened, intellectual culture has effectively erased the traditional beliefs, values and morals that have been held for generations. Human kind believes that truth, knowledge, power only comes from ourselves. Empowerment of the people. It discounts anything spiritual, anything with religious values or morals. It says that God does not matter, that He has nothing to do with the things on Earth. It holds that Faith is a lie, so lets slap criminal charges on any that try to say differently. Laws of the land should serve as our morals and guide our beliefs.

Therefore, I despair of all that.

This is truth, and it comes from THE ONE WHO IS TRUTH: There is a God and He created all things on Earth. Faith is not a lie and it CAN absolutely accomplish tangible things. Laws are not our guides to morals, only the Lord sets down the things that are right and wrong, sin or not. We should not judge our fellow man, it is not our right and we ourselves are not without sin. Jesus came to be our example to show love to everyone, even those that believe differently than ourselves.

We have a guide by which we know these things, it's called the BIBLE. If we read it, study it, learn it's truth all the errors of this sad human thinking become evident. More important, by reading the word of the Lord, the Bible, we come to learn of God himself. We come to know him intimately, as a friend, as our Father, as our Creator, as our Lord and as our Savior from ourselves—from our sin. Our belief in him becomes real. Our faith is upheld in real tangible ways.

I know this truth because I live it. God, the Creator, is as real to me as the husband I lie next to at night, as real as the cat sitting on my lap, as real as the two sons I have born from my body. I know Him and He knows me. I speak to Him and He speaks to me. Just as the sun, trees and grass still exist even though the blind man cannot see them, I cannot see God with my physical eyes, but He is still there nonetheless.

No matter how many of my fellow enlightened humankind try to say that God is defunct and no longer needed in this age of human empowerment and advancement, the God of all will always be needed. I just pray that more of these 7 billion could see that. And I will continue to pray for and uphold any of my neighbors that believe God, even if their beliefs are different than mine.

The Get Dressed Challenge

2011-10-24T23:49:00.000-07:00

I found this challenge on a blog that I follow. I love what Sarah Mae is doing. To all those that I know who are "stay at home mom's" or "homemakers" like me, I encourage you to stop on by Sarah Mae's site, Like a Warm Cup of Coffee and read more about this challenge. Or you can click on the link button at left and it will take you to the first post about the challenge.

I didn't realize it, but I privately did this challenge roughly a year ago. I made it a goal to get up and dressed every day, even do my hair a bit and put on some make-up. It was then that I decided to start wearing dresses and/or skirts exclusively and to stop wearing jeans and "yoga" pants.

For me, my reason (or "why") was because I wanted to feel better about myself since feeling like a frumpy housewife wasn't doing any wonders for me. I've always liked wearing dresses and nice looking outfits, but for the most part I did so only on Sundays for church. I wondered what was stopping me from dressing that way all the time. I suppose I thought that there was no real reason to "dress up". I was home all day, who'd notice or care? But I realized that I cared. I wanted a change, and I wanted it just for me, not to please anyone else-just myself.

At first, I did feel a little strange since I was unaccustomed to "dressing up" everyday. My friends and family probably thought I was crazy, I'm sure they wondered why I was dressy when everyone else was casual. And at first, I did notice that I was causing a bit of a stir wherever I went. I'd notice that people would look at me, watch me walk by, seemingly to be wondering to themselves about me. I found that women, total strangers, would stop me to ask if I was wearing something vintage or tell me just how cute I looked in that skirt! This was something of a surprise to me, somewhat unwelcome if I'm to be honest about it. I am more accustomed to go about my life unobtrusively.

I also found that my new commitment to dressing better took a bit of work. I did not own that many dresses or skirts, so it took lots of Goodwill hunting and on-sale shopping deals to supply me with enough suitable outfits.

I threw out nearly all my pairs of pants/jeans and let me tell you--I sure do not miss them. I do still have some, though, and I wear them when I need to get dirty in the garden or when I'm doing some other hard work but I reserve them for that purposed only.

There is just something about a dress (or a cute top/skirt combination) that makes a woman feel really good about herself. This is true for me. I feel beautiful. The way I've always felt about myself on the inside is now reflected on the outside.

Another upside to this is that I feel a little more appreciated by my husband. He has really appreciated and enjoyed the change in my dress code. My apologies if this shocks you--I even feel more sexy and feminine now, something that has made a positive impact of certain aspects of my marriage (I'll leave those aspects unnamed, I'm sure you can figure that one out.)

This personal dress code of mine has even brought the admiration of my sons. I find it delightful when I come home from a thrift store shopping trip, show off my purchases and my sons tell me how pretty the clothes are. There also is almost no describing how amazing it feels when, after getting dressed, putting my hair up and tossing on a bit of lipstick, one of my sons sees me and says, "You look really nice, Mom!"

Initially, I decided to dress more feminine simply because I wanted to. However, having seen the affect it has had on my entire family, there is no way I am going back to "casual Friday" all week long.

Rooted in Him

2011-07-30T02:28:00.000-07:00

I took this July 2011 at the Yaquina Head Outstanding Natural Area

Imagine that you are a happy young sapling, atop a nice little promontory overlooking the sea. You are situated on a perfect grassy spot and you begin to spread your roots. It is a prime spot really, you can see for miles and as luck would have it, you are high above the sea and you will not have to worry about those nasty winter storms and their mighty crashing force.

You start to notice one day, after a few years, that you are listing slightly, instead of pointing directly upward you are now pointing a bit to the horizon. No worries, you just dig your roots down a little deeper and continue to enjoy your view.

Well, then, winter comes along and some of those nasty storms begin to concentrate on your prime little spot. You still feel secure atop your little hill and confident that everything will be swell. That is until the nice solid promontory you live upon starts to crumble beneath your roots. You see, the years of storms, of constant crashing waves, have weakened the structure on which you dwell. Now, all it took was a few nasty storms all in one season to bring you careening wildly downward, leaving you pointing directly into the sea. You are now hanging onto your hillside by only a few griping roots. You fear the worst. You are certain that your little roots will give way at any moment and send you crashing into the rocks below and swept out to sea.

However, those wonderful years you spent atop that promontory as a sapling turn out to be your saving grace. You dug your roots down deep into the crevices of the rock, past the sandy soil covering the grass which you enjoyed. Now those roots, being so deeply rooted are keeping you from your certain destruction. With your lifeline still clinging, your course abruptly changes, you start to grow directly upward again toward the life giving sun above you. No more staring death in the face. No more listing toward the horizon. Your roots go deep and they have proven to withstand all the forces.

You grow up to be a beauty. Your roots are strong and holding. Your trunk, twisted and unsure at first, but then true and straight. Your branches are many, spread and covering. All of you is lifted and pointing above you. No longer do you look to the horizon or what is in front of you. No longer do you gaze down toward destruction. You have eyes only for the sun.
________

When I saw this tree while on vacation to Newport, Oregon, I knew there was something wonderful going on with this tree. It was more than just the awesomeness of nature at work. I saw in it a parallel example of our human lives and God. We ARE the tree.

As a Christian, I am rooted into my faith in God, my belief in Jesus Christ and my trust of the Spirit. It is for me as it was for this tree, I've been rooted in God since I was a child. I've been a Christian since as long as I can even remember. However, there have been years of my life when instead of looking upward, I've "listed" and looked around me and toward my horizon. I was more concerned with what I was doing within my little world. My roots were still there, but at times I was blind to them. Storms, trials and hardships came as they inevitably do and it sure seemed at times that I was looking destruction right in the face.

I remember one time in particular that it was just a thread of a root holding me back from the precipice I was dangling over. Life for myself and those I loved around me could have turned out so very different, so much more sad and awful, had I not been rooted the way I was in my faith and belief. Since that defining time I have grown only straighter, with my eyes firmly heavenward, toward the Son that bought me for my Father. So very like this amazing tree, which is still holding on.

I reflect sometimes how wonderful it is to be the child of the One who created all things. There's such reassurance in that knowledge, to know that the God of all things loves me and cares for me and wants me to KNOW Him. It is so very reassuring to know that He will pick me up when I am falling and set me to growing straight again.

And this is not all to say that life rooted in my faith and belief in God is going to be easy. No, indeed, as Christians we are not guarantied an easy life free of strife, storms, sadness or pain. There are numerous instances of personal pain and suffering in my own short lifetime already that I know this to be true. It is part of the world in which we live in, far from perfect.

We are only guarantied that God will be with us and that we will someday be with Him if we willfully choose to walk with Him and to be rooted into Him and His Word, if we choose to believe and accept His Son.

I, for one, am very thankful to be so firmly rooted in Him.

The fireball is 4!

2011-05-26T22:15:00.000-07:00

Look at that adorable little face!

My Owen just turned 4. It's been a much anticipated birthday for him. He's been counting down until the big day. He's put in his request for a certain kind of cake. He's told us what he wants for his special birthday dinner. He's made his guest list for his upcoming party, the one he told us that he needed to have. He's ready and the day is finally here!

Owen, so excited for his birthday cake!

I have thoroughly enjoyed being Owen's mother. This kid has been a ton of fun, as well as put the the work in the job of motherhood. Last year at this time I was reflecting upon my spitfire son, my warrior child, and he is still very much that. Owen is so full of life, so full of passion, full of fire.

I was flipping through Owen's baby book today and read the notations I made: "11 months old: Throwing toddler sized tantrums anytime your will is thwarted." And then, "20 months old: Still a tantrum thrower. It's been all out war these days, pitting your impressive will against the unbeatable one of mine. I always win, but it sure takes a ton to get the point across!"

Battles have been a commonplace between Owen and I for most of his little life. But therein is why I say life with him has been fun as well as a lot of work. I don't begrudge one single battle as I know that these little wars have been shaping my son, shaping his character, shaping his healthy outlook on life and what it means to be loved. These little wars were (and still are) necessary to teach Owen the important boundaries, the ones that would keep him safe, healthy and happy.

It's like this analogy I came up with a while back: Owen is like one of those tiny rubber bouncy balls. Let one of those things bounce around your kitchen and it will be bouncing all over the place; off the walls, floors, cabinets etc... and it's liable to brake something or land in a very dangerous place. Put that same tiny ball into a closed box and shake it up, allowing it to bounce at will. Nothing will be broken, no dangerous areas to land in and a perfectly happy little bouncy ball.

That's Owen for you with boundaries. Without clearly defined boundaries, he's liable to get into dangerous trouble. Define and teach him boundaries (as represented as the box) and you have a wildly happy boy, safe for the most part, able to be himself--a passionate little fireball.

These days, my little fireball is a joy to me. He is still as passionate as ever, although he has learned that I am like a benevolent ruler. I love him dearly and show and tell him every way and every day. I am not afraid to correct him and I am not afraid to fight him.

It's my joy to watch him every day, whether it's as he's racing with his NASCARS toys, reenacting scenes from his favorite action movies, lightsaber fighting with his big brother, or slowing down with a good cartoon, his thumb and his blankie.

Owen, my boy, I still love being your mother! Happy 4th Birthday to you!

On the trail: the journey to a dress that fits

2011-04-04T22:24:00.000-07:00

I just spent this past weekend whipping up a great pioneer costume for an acquaintance of mine from church. This was an interesting project and lots of fun. The costume was for a 10 year old girl. What made this project so interesting was the fact that this little girl is an atypical size, requiring not a child sized pattern, nor an adult sized pattern. The pattern had to be custom made to fit her body. To alter a patter to this degree required lots of measurement taking, a good grasp of sewing with a pattern, lots of numbers (math), and patience.

Before starting this project, I thought it was going to be a lot more difficult than it was. I haven't attempted sewing a dress using a pattern for over 10 years. I have used patterns before for smaller things like aprons, skirts and hats, but it always seemed like I couldn't understand them very well.

Having completed this project now, a process which took me only 4 days in all to complete, I realize that it was fairly easy for me. I suspect it's simply because I've been sewing long enough now to know what I'm doing. The patterns no longer confuse me and I can think out the whole sewing process in my head. Such a good feeling to know you have gotten proficient at something you love doing!

So here's a photo journey of the dressmaking process. In a previous session, I took extensive measurements of Stephanie to get her exact body shape in numbers. Then, using the adult pattern as a base, I marked up the pattern pieces to what I hoped would fit her with additional space to fit comfortably. I was having difficult time getting the proportions just right even with all my measurements. What I ended up having to do was get a child sized pattern for the same dress. I used the two patterns as the opposite extremes (one too large, other too small) and then marked up the perfect size in the middle more or less.

Here I am with Stephanie during the fitting of the mock-up dress I made out of muslin. I wanted to make sure all the changes I had made to the pattern would end up fitting properly.

It's a good thing I did this mock-up, sample dress. As you can see in this photo, the sleeves are way too long and too snug. The back of the dress, too, was too snug through the upper back, the shoulder seams straining to the point of ripping. Using a marker, I marked directly on this sample muslin dress the areas that I needed to add width, reduce width, shorten or lengthen.

Then it was time to go shopping for the fabric that we'd be using to make the final dress, bonnet and apron. Here I am with Stephanie's mom, Sarah, and the fabric they chose.

And finally, here's the results. Stephanie was one very happy and excited little girl in her new pioneer costume. I was very happy, too. This final dress fit her perfectly.

And now, I want to make one for myself.

A dream soon to be realized, hopefully

2010-08-21T21:43:00.000-07:00

I have long held a dream: to own my own house. A place that would be my own, to do with just as I please; to paint, to landscape, to garden at, to have my children grow up in. I have had this dream since I was a little girl and now, nearing my 30th birthday, I still hold this dream.

I am closer to realizing this dream than ever before. I find myself day-dreaming and night dreaming about all the different possibilities. Like a child in a candy shop.

The painter and I have been waiting for years to even attempt a mortgage. Eight years ago, we moved across the country without jobs, newly pregnant, with the job market at an all time low for unemployment. What we optimistically thought would be relatively easy turned out to be several long hard months without work, searching for jobs, terrible morning sickness for me all while living in my sister's cramped house on her charity. Car payments, insurance premiums, moving costs, storage fees and life was piling up on our few credit cards.

An unfortunate circumstance, but not without it's life lessons.

The painter finally found work, becoming said painter. We found a great duplex apartment with an amazingly low rent. Eight years later, we still live in said apartment and the painter loves being a painter. However, the cost of being a stay at home mom, with only the painter working for money is that we have lived 7 years with debt that could never be repaid, credit shot to pieces.

However, as I said, it was not without life lessons. We have learned to live on a cash only, paycheck by paycheck, frugal basis. We use credit in emergencies only, which is a good way to live. We don't buy things that we don't need and we pay cash for the things we do. It has always worked out for us. We have been truly blessed and God has provided for all our needs.

A recent running of our credit reports showed us some very welcome news. All those negative marks are gone from our record. The hindrance to owning a home is no longer there. The time for searching for a place to call our own is now upon us.

An exhilarating feeling as well as daunting.

Where to start? What will be available? What can we afford? How much of a fixer-upper will we have to buy? Will it match my dream? Or will I have to settle?

Lots of questions, and at this point, not many answers. That's our process. What we've got to look forward to. God willing, though, my dream will soon be realized.

Oasis

2010-07-28T01:42:00.000-07:00

Why is it that in a busy household, with busy little children, that the parents room is always the last place to be cleaned?

Isn't the parental bedroom supposed to be and oasis, a retreat you can turn to when chaos is happening on the other side of the closed door?

You'd sure think so. Though, sadly, not in my house. My room seems to be the catchall: the library, the office, the storeroom for out-of-season clothing tubs, the craft room, the "company is coming, throw it all in here" room. All held within a 10'x10', maybe 10'x12', space.

That's what happens, I suppose, when one lives in a two bedroom duplex, roughly 900 square feet, with two kids and two adults and no garage. And when one has a sewing hobby, a huge book collection, and a penchant for keeping outgrown boys clothes to use for the next child. Also when one has a husband, whom has hobbies of his own that take up space and two little boys who love Legos, trains, books, Star Wars, and Hot Wheels.

I need a garage. A place to store all that seldom used, but still needed stuff. Camping gear, sleeping bags, luggage, baby toys, maternity clothes, outgrown boy clothes, out of season clothes (i.e. summer/winter), picnic baskets, canning jars, ice cream maker, tools... you get the point I assume.

Well, having gotten tired of the messy, cluttered, dusty room I live in, today I decided to clean it. Now the living room is messy and cluttered! At least until I figure out some new homes for all the things I had stuffed into this little room.

Now, I have big plans for my oasis. A new coat of paint in a serene and calming color, some shelves mounted above the desk, some new curtains to replace the failing closet doors, a complete clean out of old clothes from that closet, I think some new linens are in order, and... maybe...yes I think so... A big sign on the bedroom door reading, "NO CLUTTER ALLOWED! THIS IS MOM'S OASIS."

My baby turns 3!

2010-05-26T10:52:00.000-07:00

"Hey, Owen" I said to him.

"What?" he replied.

"Whose birthday is it?" I asked him.

"Uh, Owie's" he said.

"How old are you?"

"Uh, twee" he said, his little lips turned up at the corners in a happy little smile.

That's right, my baby has turned three. No longer a baby at all. My little spitfire, my fierce little warrior child. How time does go by.

I remember well being pregnant with him. I was so very sick, at times I thought I would simply wither away with sickness. I remember all the painful jabs, pokes and kicks he made me suffer. Even in the womb, I could tell this little one was going to be a handful, and how much that is the understated truth!

I am so grateful God blessed me with my Owen Henry. He knew I was well equipped to handle all that this one could throw at me. Owen is certainly a strong force of nature and he needs an equally strong hand to handle him. Since before he even crossed his first birthday, discipline has been a daily necessity. This smallest boy of mine is so full of life and eager to experience everything without exception. Which can cause a mother to be anxious, indeed, since he has no fear in him. New places, in which he does not know the boundaries, pose a real threat to him, not though that he is aware of it. Countless times have I realized that just one more step would have seen him tumbling down a cliff-side, or in direct line of traffic, or lost in a large department store, or in over his head in a backyard swimming pool. In such times I am so thankful that God has equipped me to be his mother, with watchful eyes and a need to protect.

When we named this child three years ago, little did we know that he would become the epitome of what his name means:

The Irish form of Owen means born to nobility.

The Celtic and Welsh form means young fighter, young warrior.

All forms of Henry mean ruler of the home, or ruler of his household.

We have early come to see that our Owen is certainly a fighter, a little warrior that defends his home, his family with fervor.

I expect that God has a plan for my youngest child. I expect that Owen will enjoy a full life, full of passion. I am privileged to be his mother, with the opportunity to shape his character and teach him about the life God has for him.

Happy Birthday, little one.

The going rate: $2

2010-03-03T22:25:00.000-08:00

I knew it before, yet it was reinforced again tonight. I have a very tender-hearted son. He is such a gift, sweet to the core.

=====

It all started when Padraic watched as I paid a bill online with a few mouse clicks and then checked my Excel spreadsheets to see how the family budget was faring. Learning much about money values in school, Padraic spoke up when he saw all the dollar amounts on the screen and he began to read them.

"You did not really pay them money," Padraic told me, speaking of the bill I had just paid online. "You would have to send them a check for that."

I thought that a little lesson in how the banking system worked was in order. I got out some cash I had on hand, my bank debit card and my checkbook. The lesson involved teaching him how each worked and the systems behind them. The lesson moved onto the family budget I had before me on the spreadsheets; how much I paid for each bill, what the total of all the monthly bills amounted to and how much was left over for things like groceries, clothes and toys. After that, the lesson flowed onto where did that money come from.

"From the bank," Padraic replied.

Naturally.

Surely, from the bank, but how does the money get in the bank? He was perplexed. This brought us into a discussion about The Painter; how daddy goes to work, no, not for free; his boss pays him money to work all day and do a good job. Daddy then takes that money and deposits it into our bank so the bank can keep it there for us.

"Daddy is lucky," I said. "He gets paid for his work. No one pays me," I said.

"But, Mom, you don't work."

Gasp! Yes, the poor child really said that to me. Let me enlighten the boy.

"What is this? I don't work? Who do you think takes care of you and your brother all day? Who cooks all the meals for you? I'm a chef, you eat at my restaurant and you don't ever pay me."

His little eyes grow rounder and rounder as I talk.

"Who do you think does all the cleaning and laundry and shopping around here? How about teaching? I teach you things all the time. Does your teacher at school get paid to teach you all day? You bet she does! Yet, no one ever pays me to teach you.

"But you know what? I do get paid. I get paid in love," I tell him as I hug him tight. "I get paid in hugs and kisses and love to be your mother and do all those other things."

=====

At dinner, this same night, I cooked a meal and we all had eaten it. As I was cleaning up, I asked Padraic if he was going to pay his bill now. Owen, the little one, quickly handed me his imaginary money as payment. As I held out my hand for Padraic's imaginary money too, his eyes brightened up and he asked how much I charged for his dinner. $2, I told him. He scurried off and promptly came back with a $2 bill he had been saving in his wallet for a long time.

"Here, Mom. I want you to have some money. I can't pay you all the time. But sometimes, I will."

A few thoughts on Frugality

2010-02-26T21:19:00.000-08:00

"Away with your expensive follies, and you will not then have so much cause to complain of hard times, heavy taxes, and chargeable families."

"What maintains one vice would bring up two children."

"You may think, perhaps, that a little tea (which used to be an expensive thing), or superfluities now and then, diet (food) a little more costly, clothes a little finer, and a little entertainment now and then, can be no great matter; but remember, many a little makes a mickle (a large amount)."

"Beware of little expenses: A small leak will sink a great ship. Who dainties love, shall beggars prove. Fools make feasts and wise men eat them."

"Buy what thou hast no need of, and ere long thou shalt sell they necessaries."

"At a great pennyworth (bargain), pause awhile. Many have been ruined by buying good pennyworths."

"Silks and satins, scarlets and velvets, these are not the necessaries of life; they can scarcely be called the conveniencies; and yet, only because they look pretty, how many want to have them! When you have bought one fine thing, you must buy ten more, that your appearance may be all of a piece. It is easier to suppress the first desire than to satisfy all that follow it."

All excerpts taken from

Enquire Within Upon Everything: A Victorian Almanac

1856

London, England

Notes in ( ) are my own additions to help the modern reader understand the archaic language.

A New Experience

2010-02-17T13:35:00.000-08:00

Yeast. An baking ingredient that I have never used before. I have always wanted to try some good looking recipes that called for yeast, such as a loaf of bread or cinnamon rolls or even dinner rolls. However, I have never actually made any of them. I have bought those packets of yeast numerous times over the years. I kept them until they expired, then was forced to throw them out having never gotten up the courage to try my hand at it.
That finally changed yesterday.

I recently instituted Tuesdays as my baking day. It's a day I have set aside to do any large amounts of baking that I want to get done for the week. For example, a large batch of biscuits with the extras going in the freezer to be baked later, or a big batch of banana bread to snack on all week. I had figured that one of these baking days I would finally get around to using some of that yeast I have been storing in the refrigerator.

So, searching around the web and my own stash of cookbooks, I picked out a few bread recipes that sounded good. Randomly picking just one, I eagerly set about whipping up my first ever batch of bread using yeast.

Here is the result. The taste of this simple white bread was amazing! The recipe called for yeast, water, sugar, butter, milk and flour. Nothing fancy, however quite tasty.

The picture is a bit deceiving, this loaf was a squat little thing. It was baked in a 8x4 loaf pan with the top baking up at just the height of the pan. Using a glass pan created a thick dark crust all around. Since glass is all that I have in the way of loaf pans, I will either have to be content with this kind of crust or go out any buy myself a new pan.

Over all, this was a good first try. I will look forward to other baking days when I can experiment again with a different recipe.

The birthday boy

2010-02-02T19:15:00.000-08:00

Padraic turned 7 on Monday. I nearly cannot believe that it has been that many years since his birth. I remember being pregnant with him. He did not give me much trouble and he was such a wonderful baby. Now, these days he is a goofy boy, every day he seems to get sillier. He is such a blessing and I am proud to call him my firstborn son.

To celebrate, I made Padraic a cake from scratch. If you know me well you know that I make everything from scratch, however, I usually buy boxed mixes and frosting from the store to make birthday cakes. I know, I know *gasp* WHY? I don't know why, I suppose it is because I do not keep cake flour in my pantry and cakes usually call for cake flour. Reading a new baking book that the Painter bought me for Christmas, I was inspired by the author; she never uses cake flour and insists that her cakes come out just fine.

So, flipping through my Joy of Cooking cookbook (if you don't have it, you need it!) I picked a recipe that I had all the ingreadents for. It turned out lovely. As it was described in the book, this cake is a dense cake and long keeping. It has a wonderful chocolate taste, slightly tangy because of the buttermilk. It would be great with mini chocolate chips to make it a triple chocolate cake.

Devil's Food Cake

1 cup suagar

1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa

1/2 cup buttermilk

Combine and beat these together until well blended. Set aside.

1/2 cup unsalted butter

Beat until soft.

1 cup sugar

Add gradually to butter and cream until light.

2 eggs

One at a time, beat eggs into creamed butter/sugar. Add chocolate mixture and beat.

2 cups flour, sifted before measuring

1 tsp baking powder (or soda)

1/2 tsp salt

Sift these three together then add in 3 parts to butter/chocolate mixture, alternately with:

1/2 buttermilk

1 tsp vanilla

Beat batter after each addition just until smooth. Grease a Bundt or tube pan and sprinkle sugar over the bottom. Bake in a 350° oven for 1 hour. Cool cake in pan on a wire rack for 15 minutes. Turn cake out onto the rake.

Chocolate Glaze:

1/2 cup chocolate chips (I used dark chocolate)

2 Tbsp butter

3 Tbsp sugar dissolved into 3 tsp hot water

Heat all 3 over low heat, stirring constantly, until chips are melted. Cool slightly. Put waxed paper under rack with the cake. Poor warm chocolate over top of cake. Wait 20 minutes before moving cake to a cake stand or plate.

Enjoy!

A past love

2010-01-20T23:22:00.000-08:00

An old friend has returned. One I rather heartily wish would have stayed away. Insomnia. I have had a lifelong battle with the affliction, at times I hated it and at other times it was a dear friend. It has always been a wild unpredictable thing, coming and going as it pleased. However, over the past many years, it has been, curiously, seldom a problem. I think, upon reflection, that I can pin point it's disappearance with the pregnancy and birth of my second son, which means for the past 3 years I have not been visited by my friend, Insomnia.

If you ever had the affliction, you should know that it prevents you from sleeping even when you need it most. During insomnia bouts, my mind is active, racing from topic to topic, idea to idea, with absolutely no way to shut it down.

Which brings me to my past love. Writing. It is something I haven't done in earnest in years, four years to be precise. During these endless nights laying awake, my mind has revisited my favorite world, the world of make-believe, of story-telling. My imagination is captured anew and the thing I thought that I nearly lost, I have found again.

I did not expect to be able to pick up my writing again for many more years to come. I have two children at home that need my attention. Over these past years there has never been enough time for me to write. However, things seemed to have changed. Why? I am not sure. For how long? I am not sure about that either. All I know is that I am glad to have this chance to return to my past love again.

I have missed writing and I plan to immerse myself in this world of my own making until either my children holler for me or my Insomnia friend moves on again.

The beauty of books

2010-01-13T15:59:00.000-08:00

I have always had a love of books. Not only to read them but to collect them too. There is just something about the beauty and intrigue of a bound book of the written word.

Just yesterday I dusted off my tomes, leather bound, cloth bound and paperback alike, and moved all my bookshelves to stand together, better displaying my collection. This impressive display takes up one entire wall in the dinning room. The best place, for now, in our small home.

Daft Days

2010-01-05T17:23:00.000-08:00

I read somewhere that the days after Christmas extending until January 6th are called Daft Days in Scotland. I think it's a very apt way to describe these past days.

Blah, Blah, Blah.

There's a lack of need to do anything, no ambitions to get anything done, absolutely no motivation to get up off the rump and be useful.

Not even much desire to write down my thoughts. However, since it's not quite yet January 6th, I have one more day to endure this unmotivated attitude.

After that, though, I'd better get off my rump and get moving, or my backside will become permanently numb.

A return to normal life

2009-11-21T00:48:00.000-08:00

The full-time job of watching two little girls in my home, that I took on this past summer, has come to an end. The family is being God-directed to move on, back to California from whence they came a few years ago.

It was a strange roll-a-coaster of emotions for me, taking these girls into my home.

I knew the girls and their parents from church, I've been taking care of the them in the nursery on Sunday mornings for about a year before I took the job to care for them in my home.

I was driven to take the job for the extra money that would be added to our monthly budget. We have always lived very frugally with the Painter being the only provider and I never wanted anything more than to be a stay-at-home mother. I, erroneously as it comes out to be, thought that I could have the best of both by working from my home; I could still be that stay-at-home mother and provide for the family finances too.

As I found out, having children who are not your own in your home 4 days a week is definitely work. At the end of each day I was totally exhausted. It was just like going out to a workplace in the morning and returning in the evening for dinner. Many things that I could do as a stay-at-home mother before, I could not do now as a working from home mother. Things I took for granted. I thought it would be easier with these two girls in my home with my own two boys.

Wrong I was, although, I realize that I learned a valuable lesson in this. One I should have already known, though I suppose that sometimes we need to be reminded of the things we think we know.

The lesson is this: while my children are little and need me, my place is at home with them. To make sure my home is the peaceful haven that it should be, I must be mindful of what I invite into our home, even if it is in the innocent guise of extra children. Additional funds to the finances are nice, however not necessary if it happens to be in trade for the happiness of the family.

The dawning of Autumn

2009-10-28T21:52:00.000-07:00

Cold weather is coming. This time of year is so lovely. All the trees have turned a vibrant yellow, orange or red, and some dull brown mixed in. The winds blow causing cold noses and cheeks to turn pink. Fallen leaves rustle around the streets, swirling and whirling. The rains have come, giving the air a cold dampness that penetrates a humble thin sweater.

It is the time of year you pack away the flip-flops and scrounge around for socks and warm fuzzy boots. The time of year to buy a new pair of house slippers and give your warmest robe a good washing.

A lovely time of year when we are reminded that for everything there is a season. The growing season comes to a close with the celebration of the Harvest. Fat grinning pumpkins grace the stoops of every door. Beautiful chrysanthemums show a bit of cheer in the nearly dormant flowerbeds.

Autumn, such a beautiful time of year.

Cleaning of the heap

2009-09-02T23:08:00.000-07:00

This week is another busy one for me, however this time I'm busy by choice. I have taken on the task to clean and organize my home, from top to bottom, in just one week.

Over the past few weeks, nay month, I've been having some sort of allergic reaction to something. My skin, all over and in different places, will become very itchy. I've ruled out my new body soap, I've ruled out my laundry detergent. Someone suggested it may be the minerals in the tap water, but I've ruled that out too. I have not been able to figure it out, it is a puzzle.

Then, the other day, I was sitting on the floor of my sons' room helping to put away toys when my legs started to itch like crazy. Then I got the idea that it may be that I am allergic to my dirty house, or more specifically dust mites.

I'm embarrassed to admit that over the past year I have not spent anytime deep cleaning, or even shallow cleaning, my house. I don't remember when I last dusted...probably around Christmas. I only vacuum when it's really getting bad or when company is coming over, which is not often. There are piles and piles of things around the house... laundry, books, papers, craft supplies, out-grown boys clothes, toys, junk mail... you name it and it's there. Since this house is so small with the four of us, plus a cat, in residence, things easily pile up if I don't keep on it.

So, with the excuse that I need to be ready for a Saturday yard sale, I'm setting the goal of getting this heap in order by then. Even if it turns out that I'm not allergic to the dust, at least my home will be much cleaner and we will all be happy with that.

Mrs. Homebody's busy schedule

2009-08-22T00:23:00.000-07:00

I am certainly not the kind of person that thrives on staying busy. I do not find the rush of life exhilarating, nor can I handle a personal schedule packed with things. Unfortunately, my summer has been of that standard.

So, what, you may be asking, have I filled my summer with that causes me to be so dissatisfied? Well, let us see...

My Painter painted two houses outside of work at the beginning of the summer. When the Painter works a full week, I am at home all week with the kids. Weekends are a time when I can get a break from kid-duty, however, when the Painter is working on the weekend too...

We went on two weekends trips up to Washington. Once, for a Mariners Baseball game, second for a family visit. We enjoyed both trips and had a great time, however, there is just something that gets me down when I am away from home overnight. Partly because we are not at our home with our usual comforts, partly also because Owen is such a stinker when we go out anywhere, and partly because it is a lot of being out on the road.

My garden away from home...now this one is so bittersweet since I absolutely love to garden. There's no doubt. I take a huge amount of pride in my thriving growing vegetable garden. The unfortunate thing is that my garden is not at my home! It is in a borrowed space in the backyard of my sister's house (you can read about that in my previous post.) So, in order to tend to my garden I have to take a trip in the car, spend several hours there and then drive back. It's not just a quick step outside when I have the time. It has to be a planned trip every other day or so, during dinnertime or on the weekends.

Then there is my new working-from-home status. I've taken on the task of caring for two little girls, in my home, 4 days a week, from 7:30am to 4:30pm. Now, this is easy work, kind of like an extension of my own 2 children. Only, things I used to do during the day, I can not any longer do. Like go to the grocery store. Go to my garden. Go shopping or to lunch with my mother. Not to say that I couldn't go anywhere if I really needed to, because I can--I've got the car seats and the room in the van to accommodate us all. It is just very difficult getting 4 kids (a 6 year old, 2 two year olds and a 1 year old) into car seats, then into a store, back out again and all within nap and/or lunch times!

It boils down to these dismal stats... I have kids to care for all day, all week long, and then have to forgo free (aka kid-free) time; weekends are all full of trips, visits or necessary shopping; gardening has to be eked out of dinnertime; and the only free time I have is during the evenings IF I don't have to run errands.

Such a schedule is just not satisfactory for me, it's torture! No wonder I've been so cranky lately, I've felt the time crunch all too painfully. I don't know how you working people do it. You must have constitutions of steel!

Since I fully realize that I am just ranting and raving right now, I will stop now. This is me, this is my blog, these are my musings, this is my life.

A Thriving Garden

2009-06-11T23:06:00.001-07:00

We are trying out a new and larger garden this year. To date, all the gardening we have done has been in our own backyard, in a 1 ft x 15 ft space. Not much area to work with, and not the ideal location either, since it only gets a half day of sun. We never complained, we make do with what we have. However, this year is different. One of my sisters who lives in the next town over, has a wonderfully huge backyard with plenty of space they are not using. The spot we went with was just a weed patch/junk pile. My brother-in-law got the junk cleared away for us and the weeds out. Then it was our turn to shine! Take a look...

The Painter is working up the soil here, while I dig a spot for the gate posts. In working up the soil to prepare for planting, we found that this particular area is very rocky...I think we encountered more rocks than we did dirt! You can also see in this one some huge boulders that we were never able to dig out of the ground.

Here are just a handful of the rocks we were finding.

We ended up having to sift the soil free of rocks and stones. It became a family event! Here, my mother and my son along with The Painter are doing sifting duty. The piles of soil that resulted from our tedious sifting were nearly perfect for gardening, so the hard work really paid off!

This is the day we planted our first vegetables in our freshly (and finally!) prepared garden plot.

Here is my garden with just one month growth. It is doing remarkable well!

Here also, is just a month of growth in the raised bed. We have already had a few harvest of lettuce, enough to feed 3 families each week!

Playtime, At It's Best!

2009-05-06T15:31:00.000-07:00

Padraic and Owen enjoying the Hot Wheels town I made for them with markers and newspaper. It was so easy and quick to make it, but what I like maybe best of all is that it will be just as easy and quick to replace once they tear it up.

Owen's finds a napping spot

2009-05-06T09:48:00.000-07:00

Is this not the cutest thing?

Owen was being babysat by Grandma last Tuesday, when he climbed into the playpen to play with all the toys that were dumped there. Grandma offered to get him out, but Owen refused, he was happy playing. A short time later, she realized that she didn't hear any noises coming from the bedroom, and when she checked on him, he was sound asleep like this in the corner.

I came home 20 minutes later and found him thus and had to snap a few photo's. I don't know how the little guy managed to fall asleep upon so many toys!

A place of belonging

2009-04-30T00:11:00.000-07:00

I was called into doing a favor for my mother tonight. She co-leads a small group at our church on Wednesday nights, but my father was working and thus had their only car, which left her without a way to get to church. Hence the favor; Mother needed a ride there and back. So, I happily left my children with my husband, and I drove my mother to the small group meeting and stayed to participate.

Somewhere along the small group discussion of the last Sunday's sermon, the point was brought up we should take life one day at a time. That sometimes we are so stuck with the big picture, the destination, that we forget to observe and take in where we are at NOW.

My mother shared a story about my youngest son to illustrate... She was telling how my father, when he is working on something, he gets entirely focused on it, to the point that he does not notice what is going on around him. Mother watched as, upon arriving at their house, my son, Owen, walked over to say hello to his grandpa siting at his computer. My little guy stood there, right at his grandpa's elbow, waiting for his grandpa to see him, to notice him. Though, father never did. Mother relayed to the group how she had to call out to Father, get his attention forcibly, and show him that Owen wanted to talk to him. Once she did that, Father gave his full attention to his grandson and Mother told the group that it was wonderful to watch them in this exchange.

My mother shared that she, too, sometimes gets so focused on a project and will then miss opportunities to interact with my sons when we are over.

During that small group session tonight, I was fairly silent, busy thinking it all over, mulling it over in my mind. And on my drive home, thinking about it still.

I have actively made it a point these last 6 years, since my first son was born, to purposely take in all the daily little things, all the tiny details of my sons day to day lives. I do not want to miss anything. Everything about their little lives gives me such joy, such that it is nearly indescribable! And I do mean, EVERY detail...from the slobbery kisses and chocolate transferring hugs, to the dirty diaper changing, to the laughing and giggling tickle fests, to the screaming and complaining fits! I may get exhausted and exasperated at times with rotten behaviors and other such things, but I am always, always conscience of how little time I have with them, and I do not begrudge them even a second of my time and attention.

The Painter can surely tell you that I am frequently exasperated with him for what I consider to be "wasting time" doing meaningless and pointless activities in the name of relaxation. I know that he gets frustrated with me when I accuse him of it, and yet I see it in my minds eye as time just slipping through the cracks of life never to be replaced again. I simply wish for him to enjoy all the moments of tiny details in our lives and that of our children. (I even get myself caught up in guilt over time I spend, myself, doing pointless meaningless activities; so you see, it is not all directed at my husband.)

So many times, I wonder why did God design me this way. Why is it that I love to see all the details of life? Why is it that I abhor being busy? Why do I crave a sedate pace of living? I don't know the answers, I suppose I must take it up with my Maker.

There is one place that I know absolutely, without a doubt, that I fully belong... In my house and home, with my children beside me.

Reinvention

2009-03-27T18:04:00.000-07:00

Have you ever gotten to a point in your life that you wished to just reinvent yourself? I seem to find that I am now at that point, once again. I must have an internal cycle that gives me this urge to change every so often.

It was about 5 years ago I found myself in this situation. My firstborn was turning one year old and I was tired of how my life was: how I acted, how I dressed, what was important to me. With a shopping spree, courtesy of one of my sisters, I forsook my frumpy, schoolmarm type of clothes for the hip, fitted, cool mom style. I started reading some good books by Christian authors on being a good wife and mother, which in turn helped my attitude to get better. I often read my Bible and had prayer time. I changed my priorities and decided that family was very important to me. I'm sure many noticed the change in me then.

Presently, I am at that point of change, of reinvention, again. In my last post, you read how I have been unsatisfied and lost. This is part of that. I am unsatisfied with myself. I need a change of ME. I am now looking at my life, my family, and deciding what is good about it and what could do with some good changes.

For some time now I have been inspired by all the housewives of generations past. I've wanted to be more like them. However, what that meant for me and how to go about that I was not very sure.

Since having my very first son, and even still now that I have had a second, I have felt different than most of my generation. I have not shared in the thought that for a woman to be something, and be something good, that she must do so outside the home. I have never measured success in terms of what career I have, how much money I make, or what friends I am in a clique with, or how big my house is, or even what my husband does for a living. Success for me is how happy my family is, how well adjusted my children are, how well feed and loved my husband feels, paying the bills with just what we've got, clothing my family with the best bargains and quality I can find...

For the past several years, I thought that I have been pretty successful as far as my standards go. And in truth, I HAVE done a good job. However, when I get to this point of needing change and my reinvention stage, I have to take a good, hard look at things with fresh eyes.

I see things I want to change.

I want my house to be a peaceful one. I find that quite an alarming amount of yelling has gone on in this house since my second son was born. I am not satisfied with things staying that way any more. I want my house to be peaceful, a place of calm, of rational thought and action instead of a place of raging, uncontrolled feeling. I am often heard to say about this: "You have a choice to feel." It means that feelings should not control you; you decide just what you feel. You choose to feel upset about something. You choose to let your emotions rage or not. Emotions are valid; it is a choice how you deal with them. It is time that I practice this motto of mine better, much much better.

I want my house to have order. I want to be better at keeping things clean and picked up. I truly love a clean house. It makes me happy and puts me in a great mood. I just do not like to be the one to clean it ALL the time! That has been my feeling about it for years now. I want to change that now. I've been wasting years complaining about my housewife duties. It's time I get over it, reinvent that part of me, and get happy with keeping things clean MYSELF.

Again, I find I want to change my wardrobe. For two years, since the birth of my second son I have worn nothing but pants. When you find yourself breastfeeding a baby, there's not much practicality in dresses. Now that I am done with that part of Owen's life, I want my dresses back. I have always had an affinity for a pretty dress. I dreamed about the day that they would come back into vogue; that day is here and I couldn't be more ready to reinvent that part of my life!

These are just a few of the things that I will be reinventing. There will be many others, I am sure. Perhaps I shall share them with you again as I follow this, my latest path of reinvention.

The path that leads Home

2009-03-02T23:47:00.000-08:00

I have been in a state of desolation for some time now. It is a cumulation of many things... the slow work for my husband and therefore the inability to pay for our groceries, the receiving of our tax return and having to spend it on groceries/bills, the cold gloomy weather, my children and their listening and behavioral issues... Alas, the list could really go on and on. However, it is just a laundry list of petty issues that, ordinarily, would not make it onto my vexations list; there is a bigger issue at heart here.

I am away from God. Not to say that He has forsaken me, or that He is not still with me. The fact of significance here is that I am the one who has left God. As I sit here and reflect over the past year, I can see that it was not an intentional directional change on my part, no, indeed, it was more of a gradual slipping of daily disciplines and a weekly abnegation of Sunday's sermons in favor of service in the nursery.

I have feelings of aloneness; even with children always around me, a husband to love me, my parents to visit with, sisters to shop with; the aloneness continues unabated. My spirit knows that none of these things, these wonderful people, can fill my aching need. That need can be filled by none other than God Himself.

I have feelings of dissatisfaction which bothers me since I have always practiced (and preached!) that to be satisfied with ones lot is a choice. My well of satisfaction that springs from my Lord is dry.

I have feelings of frustration, with everyone and anyone; my husband, my children, my parents, my siblings, my church, the world...!

My center (my Lord and Father) is off-center. He is not in His proper place. I have not put Him in his proper place. I have continually made the wrong choice of forgoing my daily talks with Him, to forgo my reading of His Word in favor of TV, housework, the children, etc...

The chasm that I now face seems to be an insurmountable obstacle; it separates me from what I want most. My heart yearns for it, the closeness with my Father, but my mind deceives me into thinking that He will not want me after my callous behavior. What utter nonsense, what reckless drivel I deceive myself with. Of course my Lord, my God, my Father will want me! He will open his arms wide and receive me afresh! My spirit will be enveloped by His, and my dark shroud will vanish away.

"Oh, my Father! How I cry out to you! My spirit mourns your presence, my heart yearns and longs for your loving embrace! What life I have been living, what horrid deadness have I felt away from you. Why must I be so deceived to not want you near me? Why must I be forever separated from you? Oh, how the chasm seems so vast! The weight of my disobedience and sin are heavy with me. The darkness surrounds me with it's seductive lure.

"Yet, I can see the small light still aglow! There is hope in me after all; my Father has not forsaken me! Oh, how I praise you, your wonderful glory! Your amazing unconditional love that stays with me forever. It bridges that chasm such that I laugh at the sight of what I once thought was so insurmountable! What a puddle it was, what a downright pebble in my shoe. Such a small thing, so easily rectified by simply calling out your all-powerful name!

"How silly I have been, how childish I have become. Forgive me, my Father, I am your wayward child; I need your guidance and your direction. I will forever skirt the path to darkness without your light to guide me.

"How I praise you, oh, how I love you. What kindness you show me, what loving discipline you deal me. Shine your light on me, my Lord, scatter the darkness to the four corners, banish it into exile. You are all I need, Father. Amen"

Hard times are hitting

2009-02-12T21:06:00.000-08:00

My family is officially impacted by the rough economics of the country. The Painter's shop has been slow for the past few months. Until recently, we hadn't been much affected since he has a great boss that keeps him working. However, the shop is just plain out of bids for new jobs. As a result, the Painter has had several days of nonworking and other days of nearly nonworking which all adds up to a next to nothing, not-enough-to-pay-the-bills paycheck for the second time this month.

Now, I'm not a complainer and we've always seem to get things worked out to support our little family, it is just that this is the hardest hit we have been in four years. I'm a little rusty when it comes to scrounging out dinners with whatever we have in the can cupboard. It used to be we could go down the the Grocery Outlet and buy lots of stuff and be perfectly happy. However, I am a little spoiled for that sort of shopping now. I never buy those boxed dinners, those bags of processed junk food or that cheap white bread, or even those white non-organic eggs. Our food choices have really escalated in the past few years and we buy the best stuff that we can afford. We cook all meals from scratch, bake from scratch, buy fresh local produce, organic products wherever practical and buy next to nothing that includes high fructose corn syrup and/or chemicals/preservatives listed in the ingredients. I can't seem to bring myself to buy that cheaper stuff now that I am on very limited grocery budget.

Either the Painter needs to starting working full days again, or I am going to be forced to compromise on the food I buy!

my best sketches

2009-02-11T15:43:00.000-08:00

A baby, Feb. 2008

Terry Joe, Aug. 9, 1999

Self portrait eyes, June 27, 1999

A cowboy, no date (1997-98)

Bonnie, Feb.19, 1998

A woman, March 22, 1998

A man, Nov. 6, 1997

Self portrait, 1997

Sketch of my brother Aaron, 1997

Self portrait profile, 1997

Life's short...the list, long

2009-01-08T22:09:00.000-08:00

I think that life is just too short to get done all the things you would like to do in a lifetime...

I've been away from my sewing projects for years and I am just now finding the time to take it up again.

I think it would be great to get into quilting. I've always wanted to.

I would love to be able to scrapbook more...I think I only have a few handfuls of pages done in my scrapbook with box after box, not to mention jpg after jpg, more to do!

I have a table and 4 chairs that desperately need refinishing and reupholstered. I have other woodworking projects that I *hope* someday to get around to doing.

My art is neglected, too. I used to draw all the time. I get out my sketch book sometimes and look at all the lovely drawings I've done. Not too long ago, after one such perusal, I tried drawing a picture...it was really sad. I'm so out of practice, the baby face I was drawing came out all wrong! So frustrating and disappointing.

Don't even get me started about how much I miss writing...spending hours at a time lost in a world of my own making... creating and crafting characters that I come to love and stories that seem so real to me.

And this is not even mentioning all the things I've never done, or haven't done in years and years, but would really like to take up. Things like... hiking, skiing, running (or even walking), biking--my poor bike just sits in the shed just begging to be used!

Oh, and all the vacation spots I would just love to visit! Victoria Island again, Hawaii again, the United Kingdom, Ireland, Germany...

I suppose that I am just too big a dreamer, too much inspires me to create. I am not satisfied with just one of these areas. No, I want them all! They are all a part of me, so essential to my being.

God made so many wonderful things for us in this world. I marvel at His creation. I marvel at the Earth He made and I marvel still at the humans He put here. What scope, what range, what an awe-inspiring concept of life He patterned us for.

"Thank you, God, and may you help me to accomplish some of the things on my 'list'!"

More snow pic's

2008-12-22T23:23:00.000-08:00

This bush is normally taller than the stop sign. The weight of the ice and snow is almost too much for it.

Here's our shed and trash cans covered with snow. We hope that the shed roof does not cave under the weight!

This is Terry and our neighbor on the roof trying to get most of the snow off.

Our mail boxes

A broken limb from...

...this tree.

Ice clinging to the pine needles and cones.

Those "bumps" down the road are buried cars!

There's our buried van (before we dug it out!)

More of Terry on the roof.

Our front yard. The piles of snow from the roof came to almost 4 feet high. We had to dig a "tunnel" to the front door!

More pics in the snow!

2008-12-21T23:25:00.000-08:00

These photo's are from a week ago. This was the start of all our snow fall, around 4 inches. We had fun that day too.

Fort building...

Posing...

Sledding...

More Padraic in the snow

2008-12-21T23:19:00.001-08:00

Top photo is from the trip Padraic and I took to the grocery store with the sled. We had about 8 inches of snow at the time (we've since got even more!) and we needed food. So instead of trying to drive and risk all the other crazy drivers on the road, we walked to the store, bought our food, and pulled it all home on the sled. Pretty neat, huh?

And here's more of Padraic on his pile of snow.

And catching snow on his tongue.

Padraic in the snow

2008-12-21T23:10:00.001-08:00

Here's Paddy playing in the snow...and boy do I really mean playing. This kid LOVES the snow! He'll happily play out there for hours! HOURS! I bought him a really cool set of snow pants/jacket along with some great gloves and boots...it keeps him toasty warm so he never wants to come inside.

I also bought him his own snow shovel and he had tons of fun building a big pile of snow to climb on (and jump on and fall on...)

Of course, you can see he's enslaved me too. I pulled him around on the sled until I was out of breath and near to dropping! And wouldn't you know it, Padraic complained when I had to stop. I just had to tell him, "Dude, Mommy needs a break!"

Owen in the snow

2008-12-21T23:02:00.000-08:00

Here's Owen playing out in the snow. Although, playing really is not the right word for it...he really dislikes the snow. He likes looking at it, maybe feeling it once or twice, but being in it for longer than 20 minutes? Forget it! In the picture where I am pulling him up the driveway on the sled, he is complaining because the snow flakes are falling on his face and eyes, which he did NOT like at all.

Padraic's Gingerbread Train

2008-12-12T13:10:00.000-08:00

This year, Padraic got a gingerbread TRAIN kit. We found it at Target, and there was no leaving the store without it. I was trying to tell Paddy that we'd come back and get it another day, with another paycheck period past, but Auntie Jackie who was with us took pity on my son and bought it for him. Lucky boy!

Padraic pretty much did the decorating by himself. I put the pieces together, made sure there was enough frosting to hold it all up, then let him have at it. Poor kid had a hard time squeezing out the frosting, what with his hands being so little, but he did a good job nonetheless.

Owen whined and complained the WHOLE time, unfortunately. He saw all that candy, cookies and frosting... and coveted it! At one point, the candy bowl got a bit close to the edge of the table and Owen, being the sneaky little booger that he is, noticed and pulled it down off the table spilling candy all over the floor before we could stop it. I'm surprised that I didn't have a headache after all that noise from him when I would not let him eat all of his spoils! Sorry, Owen, but you'll have to wait until next year for your own gingerbread house.

Slumber's repose

2008-09-16T22:29:00.000-07:00

The house is quiet. The only noise heard is the whining whirl of the computer and the tapping of the keyboard. Though, listening closer, the slight sound of air being drawn in I can hear... 'tis Rev, my big old kitty keeping me company atop the desk. There too, I can detect the sounds of Terry's sleeping breaths... and the fountain like quality of the irksome fish tank in the living room... Ergo, not as quiet as I first thought.

Peaceful still.

Now I remember why I like the night, why I find it hard to sleep even when I may be truly tired. It is my time, borrowed from light and snatched whence I can find it. No one needs me, I do not need to rush, the time belongs to me. No meals to make, no chores to do, no talking, no arguing or fussing.

It is like an addiction I want back, a lover I can't give up. Oh, blissful quiet night, I miss our times together.

Just a hint...

2008-09-08T12:50:00.000-07:00

If you are good enough to leave me comments (which you are encouraged to do) please, PLEASE leave your name too, otherwise I have no idea who you are! Thanks!

Padraic's first day of Kindergarten!

2008-09-07T13:48:00.000-07:00

September 3rd was Padraic's first day of Kindergarten. We woke up (oh so) early, around 7:15 am. I helped the sleepy boy to dress, we ate a small breakfast of banana and apple juice, took a few pictures and then off we went. Grandma Linda came over to stay home with Owen.

We got to school in about 3 minutes, but trying to find a parking spot proved difficult, with all the other parents there too. But we got to class okay. Parents were allowed to stay in class for the first hour, so I was able to observe for a while, before leaving him in the care of his teacher, Mrs. LeRud.

After the teacher greeted us and showed Paddy where his backpack went, we put away all the school supplies that we'd brought with us. Then, all the kids made representations of themselves out of little die cut people with various clothing and hair choices. Padraic gave his little "me" some eyes, a nose and a mouth with crayons, then wrote his name on the back--only he forgot to write "P-a-d-r-a-i-c" and put "Paddy" instead (I told him that it was okay-not to worry).

The teacher then shook her wind chime, which means for everyone to stop what they're doing and listen to her instructions...it was time to clean up the tables, push your chair in and come to the "gathering place"--the rug where all the kids sit in a group.
At the gathering place, all the kids found their names on a board, and marked that they were there... then they all listened while the teacher told them how to ask to use the bathroom. You are to make the sign language "T" (a fist with your thumb sticking between your index finger and middle finger) and wave it in the air. The teacher explained that she'd see that and let you know if you could go to the bathroom.

Then there was the trip to the bathroom, which I was happy to see was in the classroom, so all the kids could see the "tiny toilet" (that's why they wave the letter "T") and be instructed on proper hand washing. Then, it was time to play out on the playground, and the parents cue to leave.

When I came back at 10:30 to pick up Padraic, he told me that they got to paint with the teachers paints--not the ones that the kids had to bring--and then the bell ran and it was teaching time, for which the teacher read a book.

For his second day of school, Friday, Padraic told me the there was a fire drill and that they got to tour the school. They saw the library, the cafeteria (or eating place as Paddy called it), the gym, the office and the staff there, and the nurses station.

I almost cannot believe he is old enough for this part of his life... But he did well, and I'm am proud.

Catch up time.

2008-08-22T23:53:00.000-07:00

Sorry, I guess it has been awhile since I have blogged. I have been caught up with taking care of my kids and church stuff. It is always something, right? Plus it is summer, and I've spent most of my time out doors playing with the kids, tending the garden and such. I try not to be inside (on the computer) when the days are so nice.

Well, let's see... Padraic is starting Kindergarten on September 3rd. It has been a interesting up and down issue for us this summer. It has been our plan since Paddy was born to home school for the the first few years. But along came #2 (Owen) and I just cannot seem to get much done around here. I have not been able to teach Padraic much this past year, or work on any projects, or even write any more. And not that I am complaining, but I see Kindergarten with ulterior motives... I will only have one child at home so I should be able to get some of my things done!..so into Kindergarten Padraic goes.

We have been preparing him, and I think he is ready. He should do just fine.

Now, Owen on the other hand, he is 15 months old and into everything...and I do mean everything! This kid always has something in his mouth, in his fist or underfoot that he is not supposed to have. I have always thought that Padraic was willful, but boy does Owen just go above and beyond in the stubborn category! Paddy had always been full of his own will, but correctable if handled well. Owen, though, does not care what you say, do, or threaten, he's doing it anyway...to hell with the consequences, man! That boy sure can throw a tantrum, too!

But for all that, Owen is a happy baby. Extremely good natured. Always giggling, and smiling (that is when he's not having a fit about something). He hardly ever cries (just yells instead). He's been a ton of fun for me. So different than his big brother, and that has been interesting too.

As for me... well, I've just been doing what I always do... take care of the house, the kids, the husband... cook, clean, do laundry, shop... play games, plant and tend my garden, read book after book after book...!

Tinkerbell needs a home!

2008-08-03T23:04:00.000-07:00

Here is Tinkerbell...I need to find a good home for her. Someplace where she will get more love than I can give her right now. She a nice kitty, she just prefers to be in a one-cat-only household. Tinker loves to cuddle up in your lap, she will follow you around the house...she is a good companion kind of cat, but being the female she is, she can be a brat and a bit finicky:

Tinker will show you her displeasure if she doesn't have *fresh* food and water everyday...she can't stand a dirty litter box, will refuse to use it if it's not scooped out and changed regularly... She doesn't get along too well with my youngest, Owen, but that may be on account he likes to pull her hair and screech at her...And she has a tendency toward scratching that I've never been able to break her of (that's a female for you!).

I've loved and cared for her almost 8 years now, but I just don't have the time to devote to her that she deserves. I would love to find her a good home so she'll be happier.

He's crawling!

2008-01-07T22:35:00.000-08:00

Yep, that's right folks! Owen is crawling! He took his first real crawls on Christmas morning. I figure that the lure of his brother's toys got the better of him. Since then, Owen has just been perfecting his newfound skill. No more rolling around for him, he just zooms around on all fours unless we bar his way with a wall of laundry baskets. We've even taken to dividing the living room in half, one side for Padraic and his trains, the other for Owen and baby toys (Paddy gets bent out of shape when someone "wrecks" his tracks!)

A White Christmas

2007-12-26T01:42:00.000-08:00

Yep, that's right... We had a white Christmas yesterday! Not enough to build any snowmen with or go sledding in, but very pretty HUGE flakes were falling on our heads. Of course, Padraic was trying to eat the snow as it fell, but I don't think he was very successful in catching any on his tongue. Silly boy.

We ended up driving to Grandma'& Grandpa's house shortly after these pictures were taken and by the time we arrived home again in the evening, the snow had melted. So sad.

But... the weatherman did say that we should get some more of it tomorrow! I'll keep my fingers crossed and hope he's right. I love the snow!

Fun times with my kiddos!

2007-12-21T02:55:00.000-08:00

We're posing for the camera with the gingerbread

"Can I eat it now, Mom?"
Beware all you gingerbread men...Padraic will bite your head off!

"Tada!" Padraic's first gingerbread house

Owen is having some fun being a present under the Christmas tree

What a cutie!

Christmas craziness!

2007-12-21T02:42:00.000-08:00

I am so glad that I am done with my Christmas shopping. The roads, the stores... everywhere you go, there are a TON of people! It's like when you turn off the lights and all the cockroaches come scurrying out of their holes! There's traffic everywhere, the lines at the market are crazy long, stores are staying open until midnight, there's no toys or gifts left to buy on the shelves... Ugh! Just nuts!

I went out to Target the other day just to get diapers and wipes (cuz you know they have THE best price around) and I was amazed at the amount of people in the store. You couldn't go more than 10 feet without encountering another person. And they're rude too. They just stand there in your way, not even caring that you'd like to go down that isle too. And in the toy dept. Well, lets just say if you came there that night to get a last minute toy for your child, you were out of luck... nothing was left on the shelf. But lucky for me, no one buys diapers for Christmas presents, so there were plenty left in stock for me.

Hopefully you all have finished your shopping too?

More pics

2007-11-30T02:54:00.000-08:00

My handsome hubby! Sporting the beard he grew for me. Looks sexy, doesn't he girls?!

Just ME!

New pic's of my little ones

2007-11-30T02:37:00.001-08:00

Owen's learning how to roll around to get what he wants... like this ball!

My firstborn cutie, Padraic.

Good brothers.

Don't you just love this little face?!

He's just hangin' out!

It's the most wonderful time of the year...

2007-11-30T02:14:00.000-08:00

"With the kids jingle belling and everyone telling you be of good cheer!"

Yep, it's the start of the Christmas season. I love this time of the year. We've already have a tree in our house, although it is only half decorated so far.

This year should be interesting... With a new baby in the house and a four, almost five year old making his list for Santa--"cause, you know Mommy, we've got to tell him what we want." Padraic was so cute! He wrote out a list himself of the things he'd like and the things he would like his family to have. He kept asking me "what does he [santa] have?" I told him that Santa has everything and anything. You can ask him for whatever you want, but remember that you can't have EVERYthing on your list, maybe just a few things.

And that's the rub this year. Our budget is very small. I have to remember myself not to get everything on the "list". I will need to be choosy in my gift giving AND gift asking. No matter, we'll still have lots of fun.

And I am happy, since I am throwing another Christmas tea party for my closest friends in a week. I've been planning for it, and cleaning my house for it, for weeks now. I've got the menu made and tomorrow I will start baking, actually candy-making, for it. I really enjoyed the party I did last year and it's really the only time I have people over to my home. I have always thought of my place as too small to have people over--it's just a 2 bedroom, about 900 sqft or so. But 12 ladies fit in very nicely last year, so now I am okay with inviting people over.

Anyhow, Merry Christmas all! I hope your holiday plans are enjoyable and stress-free.

Ugh! This baby finally came out!

2007-10-03T01:50:00.000-07:00

Here I am! Don't I look pretty after birthing my baby?

My poor little guy was a little purple from the fast decent out of mommy.

Well, Owen Henry was born on May 26th, at 9:06 am. He weighed 8 lbs. 3 oz. and was 20 inches long.

It was a labor that I will never forget, for all the trouble it gave me seeming never to start! It was so fast and intense! I couldn't sleep that night, and I was wake at 3 am eating Dorito's Chips. I was feeling some contractions but I figured that this was just some more false labor. So I just continued eating my chips and read a magazine. After a time, the contractions were getting a little annoying, so I decided to take a bath. That was pretty nice, the contractions seemed to stop and I thought, well now I can go to bed.

I was toweling dry when the contractions returned. I struggled into bed, hoping that laying down would lessen things... only, it got worse. So I got up again. At this point, I am on all fours, on the floor, pretty much just panting through some painful contractions. I can't move, can't talk. IT HURTS!

This must be it! Yay! So we grab up all of our stuff, get Paddy dressed, call the hospital and then Jackie--she's the only one I can handle calling since the pain is too hard to talk through.

We arrived at the hospital at around 5 am, got checked into a room, again, and waited. The sisters arrived, then my mother... The nurse checked on me from time to time.

I was going a bit crazy. It hurt and I wasn't handling it as well as I did with Padraic. I was unfocused, and I guess unprepared. All that false labor is to blame I think. Thank God for my sister Jackie, though. She kept me focused. Made sure I was eating my ice chips, wiping my brow with a cool wash cloth, reminding me to breathe during contractions--otherwise I'd just forget and hold my breath. Did I already mention that IT HURT?! Poor Terry, I am surprised that I didn't permanently bruise his shoulder where I had a death grip during contractions.

Anyhow, things were moving along, FAST. The nurse kept telling me that I could get something for the pain if I wanted. But heck, I didn't know what I wanted, I was so out of it. It was finally Jackie who talked me into accepting what the nurse was offering. I remember thinking and saying that I just couldn't do this anymore, I was exasperated at the pain, and I am sure that I remember uttering a few swear words! But boy, was I happy when I got that little bit of pain meds! I remember being a little 'dopey' and sappily thanking Jackie for getting me to take it. So I had a bit of a reprieve from the intensity.

Towards the end, I was having a very hard time not to push. The pressure was just so intense. I couldn't ignore it and with every contraction I had to battle not to give into the urge to push...I didn't always win. Of course, the nurses kept telling me not to push. I remember thinking, "Are you crazy!?" They'd check me, and tell me that I wasn't quite ready. I kept asking for the doctor to come. I told them, "it's time. I HAVE to push!" Finally, after I asked and asked, the doctor did come in and that was that. He told the nurses to get ready but they weren't, something from their cart was missing. The Doctor said they'd better get it, because we were having a baby, right NOW.

And there he was, after just a few hard pushes, Owen was born. The doctor asked me what his name was, but I was so out of it, I couldn't answer. I could barely keep my eyes open to even look at my little baby, much let speak his name. The next hour or so was just a blur for me.

But no matter. My baby finally did arrive and he's wonderful!

More of my new baby

2007-10-03T01:42:00.000-07:00

My new baby

2007-10-03T01:30:00.000-07:00

Oh, brother... A False Alarm!

2007-05-24T00:01:00.000-07:00

Here I am in the hospital, Sunday night and early morning Monday, with what we thought was REAL labor. Things started out well, contractions were happening, I was progressing...Then...things started to slow down. The contractions were coming farther apart and were not painful at all. Really kinda cheesy I'd say. Then everything just stopped. No more contractions, no more progress. So, at 3'ish am, they sent us home.

Oh, boy...talk about disappointment! We were fully prepared for the baby to "come out". Padraic was sent to stay with Grandma and Grandpa, and he knew that when he saw Mommy next, we would have a new baby. I felt bad for the little guy. Grandma brought him home in the morning and he took one look at me and started to tug me into either bedroom. He was in search of the baby in either the crib or the playpen. So I had to explain that the baby was not ready to come out and the nurses sent us home. "See my tummy," I said to him, "the baby is still in there." We still have to wait. Padraic took it well, really. Better than Terry and I, of course. It was such a let down for us. If I was the type, I'd would have screamed and pulled out my hair in frustration. As it was, I just grumbled about it and vowed to talk it all over with my doctor on Wednesday at my next appointment, since it was a different doctor on-call that night at the hospital.

Now, I had that appointment today. The first thing my doctor said to me was "We should talk about how you feel about labor induction." Just what I wanted to hear, let me tell you. If she had not brought it up, I certainly would have. I do NOT wish to wait until a week, or two, after my due date for this little guy/gal to decide to come out! I am all for laboring naturally, as I did last time, but when it comes to labor that takes forever to actually start, well that's a whole different story where I am concerned. I am full term, baby is healthy, so I have no wish to wait around.

Here's my current theory about this: This baby just wants everyone, especially me, know that he/she is MY child. If you know me at all, you should know how willful and, yes, stubborn I am. I have been known to dictate to the weather and have it obey my will. Don't believe me, just ask my dad--he'll tell you. It's one of his favorite stories about me! Well, this child is already trying to enforce his own will on me, and I've about had it. Listen up, little one... I am MOM! You WILL come out, and it better be soon, OR ELSE! Haha! Anyone think this baby will listen?! I guess we'll see.

8 months

2007-04-11T18:01:00.000-07:00

Are we not just too cute!?

Yep, you read that right. I am 8 months along now. And, of course, I still get all those comments about not looking it. Mostly, I just reply with, "Yes, I know... I am lucky that way." But inside I am really thinking this: "Will you just stop commenting about the size of my belly already?" I mean, really. I may not show as most normal women do, but you do not hear me going around to all those ladies and saying, "Wow! You are just so HUGE! I never looked like that when I was pregnant!" How rude that would be. But do not worry about me... I'll get over it. It is just a fact of my life. Just as all the comments I get about looking like I am a teenager still, is a fact of my life.

I am not complaining... I think it a great blessing that I can look so good pregnant and that I am young looking. When I get into my 40's and beyond, I am sure that I will still look young--then all the comments I get will be flattering instead of annoying!

So...how am I feeling? I was reading my post about being 6 months pregnant, and I mentioned that I felt 9 months at the time, that I felt like I was carrying around a basketball. Well, now I feel like I am carrying a BOWLING ball! I was walking around the other day and the weight of my belly was just horrendous! I had difficulty getting through my shopping. It felt like the weight of the world was trying to press me down into the ground! Made me wish I was in space, floating around weightlessly.

This pregnancy has been so different from my first one. That first one, with Padraic, was just a breeze compared to this one. This time, everything that is or can be a pregnancy symptom, I have experienced. Extreme sickness, extreme tiredness, backaches, feet swelling, shortness of breath, waddling for goodness sakes!, ligament pain and all that! No wonder I am so impatient to get the the baby part!

But I can rest in the knowledge that my time is coming very soon. I do not have too long to wait now. Thank goodness!

tulip farm outing

2007-04-11T16:35:00.000-07:00

What a beautiful day this was! The weather was great--in the high 70's, and as you can see, lot's of sunshine! I was pretty tired after walking around the acres and acres of flowers. Not exactly the best thing to do when you are 8 months pregnant, but I've wanted to visit this place for years now. So I made plans with my mother and we enjoyed ourselves! I will go again next year and spend more time walking around the fields. As it was, my son was too excited about the Children's Acre (aka playground) to let me do too much walking around with the flowers.

Padraic had fun playing on the huge 'roller' slide. It was an at least 10 foot tall slide made out of PVC pipes that the kid's just 'bumped' their way down on. I would have tried it, but I don't think that it is quite the thing to do when pregnant! Too much bouncing and jostling. But Padraic loved it once he got over his fear of climbing up the ladder by himself.

They also had 'rubber ducky races.' The kids would pump water from those old fashioned water faucets into plastic rain gutters to move their ducky until it reached the 'waterfall' into the water trough at the end. Padraic thought that great fun too!

All in all, a great day. Even if I ended up with a slight sunburn and aching feet and shins!

The countdown

2007-04-02T02:38:00.000-07:00

52 days, or if you rather-- 7 1/2 weeks, until my due date!

I am impatient as ever.... I want to be done with being pregnant and just get to the baby part already!

Padraic turns 4!

2007-02-28T19:31:00.000-08:00

Feb. 1st, my little boy turned 4. He is getting so big, I just can't believe it! We had fun planning for his birthday party.

Padraic loves trains of any sort, knows the difference between diesel and steam trains and loves to rent from the library various Thomas the Train movies. So naturally we had to have a train party. We had a "train" cake and cheese cutouts in the shape of train. We made a a train craft, complete with foam sticky shapes and glitter and we also took turns playing with the "Geo Tracks" train set up in Padraic's bedroom.

Padraic had mostly family over, Aunties, cousins and grandparents, although two friends from church were able to join us too. His presents included several DVD's, such as Cars and Finding Nemo, crafts supplies (thank you Grandma!) and some clothes of the cutest variety--matching bright yellow rain boots and rain coat (thank you Auntie Jackie!)

Now a word of waring to those with small children--Be careful what you teach your child about birthdays (or any other holiday where presents are involved). My son clearly understands that on your birthday you are "entitled" to certain perks, such as presents! He told his grandpa that he could come to his party IF he brought a present with him. I hate to think what would have happened if Grandpa had come to the party without the gift in tow! I suppose it is time to teach my little guy that not always do we get presents and that it is perfectly okay if someone fails to bring him a gift. Don't you just love kids and their logic? I know I sure find it hilarious!

How's this for 6 months?

2007-02-19T17:16:00.000-08:00

I snapped these photo's today. I know, I know--I do not look like I should be a full six months by the size of me, but believe me, I am! Someone recently asked me if I at least felt VERY pregnant, that being the important question. If you FEEL like you are carrying around a basketball, then that's all that really matters.

Well, I FEEL more like 9 months pregnant! I can't sleep at night, my back always hurts, the muscles and ligaments holding up my uterus feel as if they are about to bust, I have a hard time putting on socks and shoes (since I can't bend over well), I have to ROLL myself out of bed or out of a chair... the list goes on.

It is too bad that I can not capture on a photo all the kicks, punches, squirming and rolling that my baby does all day long. This little one is so ferocious that I am sure people observant enough could witness his (or her) movements. Padraic and Terry sure get a 'kick' out of feeling the kicks!

Even though I can now enjoy being pregnant, since all my sickness is gone, I am still very anxious to have my baby. Impatient, you could call me. It must be because I enjoy babies so very much and love being a mom. May 24th, hurry up and get here already!

Playing in the snow

2007-01-22T23:32:00.000-08:00

Here are some photo's of us playing in the white powder on our recent snow day.

The whole Portland area saw a few inches of snow on January 16th. Up at our house, we had 4 inches. It made for a fun little holiday for everyone. Schools shut down, kids stayed home, parents got to skip out of going to work and nearly everyone was outside playing.

Padraic had lots of fun sledding down the driveway on a makeshift sled of cardboard. (Mom & Dad even tried it once or twice) And of course we had a small snowball fight-- which was really more like trying to throw powder at each other than a packed ball since the snow wasn't moist enough until the next day. All in all, it was lots of fun. Cold, but fun.

No injures at our house, unlike the so many others we heard about on the news. Tons of kids were injured in sledding accidents. Mostly because they picked a slope to go down with no thought to what may be at the bottom. Kids were running into trash cans, parked cars, tree stumps, street curbs--you name it. One kid was run over by a passing car when he sled out into traffic. There was even a little girl who died when her sled, pulled by rope attached to her dad's truck, ran her into a brick wall. How devastatingly sad! I just can not imagine sending my child out to play one day, and it turning out that I never again see my child alive. It's times like these, and stories like these, that I am so glad that it is important to me to keep a good eye on my own child.

A hot debate

2007-01-08T00:47:00.000-08:00

The hot topic right now is whether I am having a boy or a girl. There are no shortage of opinions, that's for sure. I, as most of you all know, want another boy. Padraic wants a brother. Then there is Grandma Linda who wants a girl, Aunt Penny's guess is for a girl and Colleen wants a girl.

I am comming to dread the inevitable question--"Do you know what you are having?"-- because I am so disappointed at not knowing. Following this question I am offered one's guess of the sex and an opinion on who's best--a boy or a girl and why. This is the hot debate that I'd really rather do without. Some people can understand my veiws and yet others think I am crazy and have a bad attitude.

You see, I'd not only prefer to have another boy, I really don't have any desire to ever have a girl. Mother's of boys can fully understand this. It's the mother's that have girls that just don't get it. I love having a son. I have had so much fun raising a boy. I like to think that I am raising a future man and shaping that man into a gentleman--into a breed that seems much deminished from previous generations.

I read an artical today written by a mother of 2 boys and she had this to say: "I am free to have fun with the reality of boys, their hit-and-run hugs, their take-no-prisoners play. I hope to show them, by what kind of woman I strive to be, that they can love strong woman and remain strong men. Maybe someday, two very lucky girls will grow up to meet my sons and then I can always fantasize about granddaughters."

Well said and I agree.

Not to say that I have no love for girls. I know of a few (2or 3) girls that I could happily 'adopt', but I know many more that I find extremely difficult. I am a 'girl' so I can say this of my sex--Girls are almost always brats, in some form or another. I think it's just hardwired into our make-up. Sometimes we outgrow it, sometimes not and sometimes we choose to change ourselves for the better. Girls can be sweet and loving one momment, then nasty, short-tempered, talking back, sassy little creatures the next. I know--as a girl I was just this way.

For some, I'd say that the good times are what they look forward to with girls. As for me, I'd just prefer not to deal with the theatrics of raising a girl at all. Give me the rough-and-tummble boys, who fall and break bones, get into all sorts of scrapes, who do not cry about "My friend won't play with me, or talk to me...", the boys who in quiet times come to cuddle and hug. That's my ideal.

Of course, I may yet get my chance at that 'dramatic' girl, no matter what my preferences are. And that's okay. God has already planned and created my next child. If I am blessed with another boy, great. I know I'll love him as will his father and big brother. But if God blesses me with a girl instead, I will be just as happy, whether she is 'bratty' or really sweet. I know I will love being her mother just as much as I love being Padraic's mother.

Hello 2007!

2006-12-31T14:11:00.000-08:00

Wow! Another year has come a'knockin'.

You know how it is--the same old joke when you say, "See you next year" with a cheezy grin, kind of like you have just come up with the most inventive joke ever! But people still find it funny, as I found out today. Parting with friends today after church, I said it to a few people and I recieved a laugh or too. Okay, maybe it was just a few giggles, but you know what they say--"an oldie, but goody."

I don't know about you, but I have never been one to do much in the way of New Year's resolutions. I mean, what's the point really? You know that a day or two, maybe as long as a week, later you have already forgotten (or blown) your resolutions. And it is usually goals such as: go on a diet and lose a few pounds, read a new and interesting book, try something new that you normally would pass on, be nicer to my husband, etc... And let's face it--our resolutions are things we haven't done throughout the year before, so what makes us think that we will be able to do them in the next?

My idea of a more practical and reasonable thing to do at the end of the year is this: Look at the past year and all that it has meant to you. What have you accomplished? What have you learned? What have you experienced? What does it tell you about yourself, about your life, about your priorities?

I think that sometimes, as a people, we avoid looking back on our lives and to how we are progressing. Why is it that people are afraid of the past? I suppose for some it may be depressing when trying to come up with past milestones and accomplishments becuase these may be very few or even nonexistent. Maybe I am just too optimistic about this, but I think everyone can find at least some sort of pleasure or satisfaction in life within the past year. If not, I am afraid life must be very sad and dismal indeed!

I for one, am the sort to voluntary look back at my life, my actions, my thoughts all year round. I find enjoyment--no, let me rephrase that--I find satisfaciton in growing as a human. I cannot admit to always finding enjoyment in "growing" as a person, becuase frankly, growing can be painful at times. But I certainly take satisfaction in the knowledge that I have grown as a person in the past year. If every year I can learn to be and practice being a better wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, leader-then I am happy.

What I see of my life this past year does, indeed, make me happy. I have been a good mother to my son. I have given him love, I have provided for his needs, I have shaped his mind and taught him new skills. I have been a supportive sister who has listened and advised where I could. I have been a prayer partner to my mother and father with all of the things they have been through this year. I have been a friend and responsible leader to many a baby and their parents. I have been a good wife. Meeting the practical and emotional needs of my husband and, of course, the most insistent needs of his stomach!

This next year, 2007, I plan to continue my "growing" and be ever open to new area's of improvement. What about you?

Happy New Year everyone!

Mystery baby

2006-12-26T18:22:00.000-08:00

Today I had a doctor's appointment for an ultrasound to see our new baby. We ended up being able to see everything but what we really wanted to see--the baby's boy or girl parts! So our baby is still a mystery to us. I am still hopeful that I might be blessed with another boy to love. Padraic, of course, insists that he will get a little brother. Though, boy or girl, this next child will be a blessing no matter what, as children always are.

Christmas Day

2006-12-25T23:25:00.000-08:00

This was a fun Christmas for our family. Padraic, since he's almost 4, understood the concept of "Santa" better this year. He insisted on seeing Santa in the mall to tell him what he wanted for Christmas. Terry and I had the fun role of playing Santa this year for our little guy. We left unwrapped presents around the tree and set up the "big" present-a new 'Geo Tracks' train set- ready for Padraic to see as soon as he woke up in the morning. I wish I could have captured the expression on his little face when he spotted the new trains. It was as if he was thinking, "Where did that train come from? I know that I didn't have that one yesterday, so how did it get here?" Confusion and uncertainty were written all over his face. I asked him if he knew who had brought him the new train track and he relpied, "I don't know." When I told him that Santa had brought it for him, he looked at me as if I were nuts! But it did not take him long to get past his not knowing exactly how it come to be in our living room and soon he was enthusiastically playing with his new toy.