Hubby had a job interview on Friday. He's supposed to find out this week whether or not he got the job.
This job, if he got it, has all sorts of benefits. The first is, well, the benefits. We'd get better health insurance than we currently have, and it would include vision and dental. Hallelujah! The second is the pay, which would be somewhere around double what he's getting right now.
Also, his schedule would be way different. He would start working the swing shift, which is 5pm-2:30am. It would certainly be an adjustment, but he'd get so much more day time at home! I love the idea, personally.
Anyway, pray for us!
Monday, February 28, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
TMI
This is a post about my bladder. Just so you're warned.
So, obviously, all my internal organs are squished right now. That happens when one is almost 8 months pregnant. I'm pretty sure that my bladder is not uniformly squished. Instead, it is pinched in the middle, and has taken on the shape of an hourglass. This effectively limits how much can come out at a time. Let me assure you, the amount is pitiful. Five minutes later, more has squeezed through that pinch from the top section down to the bottom section. The result? I always feel the need to "go." Usually without much to show for my efforts, except for an increased agility in dropping my pants.
I told you it was too much information.
So, obviously, all my internal organs are squished right now. That happens when one is almost 8 months pregnant. I'm pretty sure that my bladder is not uniformly squished. Instead, it is pinched in the middle, and has taken on the shape of an hourglass. This effectively limits how much can come out at a time. Let me assure you, the amount is pitiful. Five minutes later, more has squeezed through that pinch from the top section down to the bottom section. The result? I always feel the need to "go." Usually without much to show for my efforts, except for an increased agility in dropping my pants.
I told you it was too much information.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Health Not-Nut
I recently read a blog post from a homeschooling mommy about the importance of diet. Among other things, she mentioned how important it is to serve protein at breakfast. When she doesn't do this, when she lets her kids eat sugary cereals and such, there's a huge difference in their day. The kids crash after a couple hours, and the day goes downhill from there.
So interesting.
I grew up in a very good home. My parents were always very very health-conscious. At the same time, I think they (particularly my dad, who is wonderful) took it to an unpleasant extreme. Among other things, I was not allowed to have much dairy as a child. No milk. Little yogurt. Little cheese. We had fruit for breakfast. I didn't like fruit, and so I usually skipped breakfast.
As an adult, I have revised my diet philosophies a few times. When I first got to college, I was absolutely thrilled to eat ice cream whenever I wanted. I microwaved a box of mac and cheese almost every night for dinner. I almost never ate vegetables. I knew it was the novelty of having the freedom to do these things that let me do them mostly without guilt, and I completely indulged myself. It was great.
Eventually that phase passed, and I began to incorporate more healthy stuff into every week. I wasn't at the point of eating healthy food every day, yet. Still, I was making progress.
Kitchen experimentation also became a weekly pastime for me. I love to cook. The act of creating yummy food sends tingles all the way to my toes. Cinnamon rolls were my specialty, although I also made cookies, and cakes, and candies... you know, the good stuff.
Then, I decided it was time to lose weight. My weight had crept up every day since I can remember, and I was finally sick enough of it to make changes. I read Dr. Phil's Ultimate Weight Solution and lost 20 pounds. I kept it off, even when my work schedule prevented me from eating quite the way I should. It probably helped that my job had me on my feet, mucking out stables, and riding horses for 30 hours every week. That kind of exercise is bound to have an effect.
When I lost 20 pounds, I was single. I could buy and eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I was able to keep myself on a good schedule because I was the only one I worried about.
Now, I have a husband who doesn't like tomatoes, mushrooms, or pineapple. He does, however, love most vegetables. I have a daughter who enjoys most fruits, doesn't particularly care for vegetables, and needs snacks almost constantly. She also likes to feed me her snacks, which I sometimes eat because it encourages her to eat.
I want to be more health-conscious. I want to incorporate vegetables, fruits, proteins, and grains into our diet in yummy ways. I really don't want to be nutty about it. I still hold this ingrained belief that the only healthy foods are fresh fruits and vegetables. I feel a little guilty for eating crackers, or occasional french fries. I want a well-rounded diet that is enjoyable for me and for my family. I fully intend to serve sugarful desserts and milk to my children. I want them to enjoy eating good food for the sake of eating good food. I don't want them to fixate on food the way that I always have. I want that for myself, as well. How blessed would it be to be able to really focus on the other aspects of life? I believe it would be fantastic.
I don't have much of a driving point to this post, and I'm sorry it's so long. At the same time, I'm curious: what is your relationship with food? Do you struggle with misshapen ideas/ideals? How do you deal with food in general?
So interesting.
I grew up in a very good home. My parents were always very very health-conscious. At the same time, I think they (particularly my dad, who is wonderful) took it to an unpleasant extreme. Among other things, I was not allowed to have much dairy as a child. No milk. Little yogurt. Little cheese. We had fruit for breakfast. I didn't like fruit, and so I usually skipped breakfast.
As an adult, I have revised my diet philosophies a few times. When I first got to college, I was absolutely thrilled to eat ice cream whenever I wanted. I microwaved a box of mac and cheese almost every night for dinner. I almost never ate vegetables. I knew it was the novelty of having the freedom to do these things that let me do them mostly without guilt, and I completely indulged myself. It was great.
Eventually that phase passed, and I began to incorporate more healthy stuff into every week. I wasn't at the point of eating healthy food every day, yet. Still, I was making progress.
Kitchen experimentation also became a weekly pastime for me. I love to cook. The act of creating yummy food sends tingles all the way to my toes. Cinnamon rolls were my specialty, although I also made cookies, and cakes, and candies... you know, the good stuff.
Then, I decided it was time to lose weight. My weight had crept up every day since I can remember, and I was finally sick enough of it to make changes. I read Dr. Phil's Ultimate Weight Solution and lost 20 pounds. I kept it off, even when my work schedule prevented me from eating quite the way I should. It probably helped that my job had me on my feet, mucking out stables, and riding horses for 30 hours every week. That kind of exercise is bound to have an effect.
When I lost 20 pounds, I was single. I could buy and eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I was able to keep myself on a good schedule because I was the only one I worried about.
Now, I have a husband who doesn't like tomatoes, mushrooms, or pineapple. He does, however, love most vegetables. I have a daughter who enjoys most fruits, doesn't particularly care for vegetables, and needs snacks almost constantly. She also likes to feed me her snacks, which I sometimes eat because it encourages her to eat.
I want to be more health-conscious. I want to incorporate vegetables, fruits, proteins, and grains into our diet in yummy ways. I really don't want to be nutty about it. I still hold this ingrained belief that the only healthy foods are fresh fruits and vegetables. I feel a little guilty for eating crackers, or occasional french fries. I want a well-rounded diet that is enjoyable for me and for my family. I fully intend to serve sugarful desserts and milk to my children. I want them to enjoy eating good food for the sake of eating good food. I don't want them to fixate on food the way that I always have. I want that for myself, as well. How blessed would it be to be able to really focus on the other aspects of life? I believe it would be fantastic.
I don't have much of a driving point to this post, and I'm sorry it's so long. At the same time, I'm curious: what is your relationship with food? Do you struggle with misshapen ideas/ideals? How do you deal with food in general?
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Cute Schprid Pictures
Hi. I'm a proud, gushing Mommy. I don't have a lot of room in my wallet, nor do I get out of the house much. Hence, we're showing Schprid pictures online where everyone can see them. Bon Apetit!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Curtain Pics
Remember how I put up curtains forever ago? Well, here they are! I tried to adjust the pictures so they're actually identifiable as curtains rather than dark blobs above light blobs, but they're still not great. The curtains, on the other hand, are pretty nifty, I think. What do you think?
I realized the gold and green flowers may seem like an odd choice with the red curtains, but I actually have some hanging stars that are red, green, and gold, so it works quite well, actually.
The only thing I have issues with in this room, now, is that there isn't really a clear focal point. See, the curtains are a heavy color and take a lot of attention, but I don't want them to be the focal point. There's also the table in the middle of the room, the corner where we put all our family pictures, the big wall where the artistic pictures are hung... I may need help really finishing this room. Still, it's better than it was. At least it no longer looks naked. :)
I realized the gold and green flowers may seem like an odd choice with the red curtains, but I actually have some hanging stars that are red, green, and gold, so it works quite well, actually.
The only thing I have issues with in this room, now, is that there isn't really a clear focal point. See, the curtains are a heavy color and take a lot of attention, but I don't want them to be the focal point. There's also the table in the middle of the room, the corner where we put all our family pictures, the big wall where the artistic pictures are hung... I may need help really finishing this room. Still, it's better than it was. At least it no longer looks naked. :)
Monday, February 21, 2011
The House That Mama Built
Schprid and I had fun, one day, making this "house" out of a couple cardboard boxes left over from Christmas.
It had the peaked roof, complete with skylight,
a front door,
A couple of windows,
a back door,
and even some fun decorations.
She'd go in, poke her little head out one of the windows, and call, "Hi!" in pretty much the cutest way imaginable. Ki'i loved it, too. She'd run in and out, hide in it, and a few times she even climbed on top of it.
It had the peaked roof, complete with skylight,
a front door,
A couple of windows,
a back door,
and even some fun decorations.
She'd go in, poke her little head out one of the windows, and call, "Hi!" in pretty much the cutest way imaginable. Ki'i loved it, too. She'd run in and out, hide in it, and a few times she even climbed on top of it.
Friday, February 18, 2011
New Baby Poll
Today is February 18th. The due date for Wooble is March 30th. It may be a little early to do this poll, but I'm so stinkin' anxious for baby to come that I'm doing this now anyway.
And probably jinxing myself. Oh well.
So, the poll is this:
Do you think Wooble is going to come early, on time, or late?
The facts are these:
1. Our family tends to come late. Schprid was 9 days overdue.
2. Wooble was begging for his turn from the day after Schprid was born. (I obviously wasn't ready for him then, but here we are now. I'm pretty sure I'm still not ready for him. Maybe I'll feel more ready when I'm no longer pregnant!) Anyway, this kid wants to be here!!!
3. My due date was originally March 8th, but after the ultrasound they decided to change it to March 30th.
4. I don't plan to schedule the birth of this baby if we can at all avoid it.
Anyway, this poll will be up for 10 days, until February 28th. That gives us plenty of time in case Wooble decides to come waaay early.
And probably jinxing myself. Oh well.
So, the poll is this:
Do you think Wooble is going to come early, on time, or late?
The facts are these:
1. Our family tends to come late. Schprid was 9 days overdue.
2. Wooble was begging for his turn from the day after Schprid was born. (I obviously wasn't ready for him then, but here we are now. I'm pretty sure I'm still not ready for him. Maybe I'll feel more ready when I'm no longer pregnant!) Anyway, this kid wants to be here!!!
3. My due date was originally March 8th, but after the ultrasound they decided to change it to March 30th.
4. I don't plan to schedule the birth of this baby if we can at all avoid it.
Anyway, this poll will be up for 10 days, until February 28th. That gives us plenty of time in case Wooble decides to come waaay early.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Grateful
This winter, I am grateful for windows.
For those of you who don't know, or who didn't get the opportunity to see it, last winter we lived in a teeny tiny little appartment. It had one bedroom. Everything else was in the other room. We lived, ate, did laundry, and kept the Schprid in the main living area. Did I mention that it was small? Because yeah, it was small. The only window in the apartment was in the bedroom. That window looked out over our yard- a parking lot. We didn't go outside much. Between the frigid temperatures and the lack of inviting atmosphere outside, not to mention the fact that we had a 2-9 month old baby, we just didn't venture out much. Talk about feeling trapped!
This winter, life is better. Granted, I'm pregnant and so still not feeling terribly ambitious about going outside. But we have a horse that needs to be taken care of, and that makes me get outside at least once if not twice every day. The rest of the time, our house is delightfully situated to get much sunlight and it all comes streaming through numerous windows. One of them is even a huge picture window- no seams or breaks at all. We can't open it, but it's probably seven or eight feet wide of glorious outside view. I love it. It just helps me to feel like I'm getting the outside experience, even when I do feel that it's too cold or I'm too tired to make the effort to go outside.
How do you get through these last few weeks of winter?
For those of you who don't know, or who didn't get the opportunity to see it, last winter we lived in a teeny tiny little appartment. It had one bedroom. Everything else was in the other room. We lived, ate, did laundry, and kept the Schprid in the main living area. Did I mention that it was small? Because yeah, it was small. The only window in the apartment was in the bedroom. That window looked out over our yard- a parking lot. We didn't go outside much. Between the frigid temperatures and the lack of inviting atmosphere outside, not to mention the fact that we had a 2-9 month old baby, we just didn't venture out much. Talk about feeling trapped!
This winter, life is better. Granted, I'm pregnant and so still not feeling terribly ambitious about going outside. But we have a horse that needs to be taken care of, and that makes me get outside at least once if not twice every day. The rest of the time, our house is delightfully situated to get much sunlight and it all comes streaming through numerous windows. One of them is even a huge picture window- no seams or breaks at all. We can't open it, but it's probably seven or eight feet wide of glorious outside view. I love it. It just helps me to feel like I'm getting the outside experience, even when I do feel that it's too cold or I'm too tired to make the effort to go outside.
How do you get through these last few weeks of winter?
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Intruders
It was Sunday. It was a perfect day. Church, good food, a walk in the park... we were all happy. We had just come home and were preparing to settle in for the evening.
Then, I saw them. Four of them. Strutting around in our pasture like they belonged there.
Chickens.
Have I ever mentioned that I hate chickens? It has to do with painful childhood experiences. You know, the kind that run deep and require serious therapy to overcome. I would rather just hate the chickens. It's more fun.
So I did what any normal, rational, protective housewife would do: I dropped the diaper bag on the doorstep and waddled my pregnant body over to the pasture to chase them away.
They must have sensed my outrage, because they started edging away from the gate they'd been contemplating going through when they saw my first steps toward them. By the time I actually reached said gate, they were a good three feet away from it. I stormed into the pasture, almost heedless of the mud that squelched ever so slightly around my shoes.
Okay, maybe I wasn't heedless of the mud. After all, at this point in the winter, the entire pasture is a mudpit, and a lot of the top layer isn't actually mud, if you know what I mean. Fortunately, I had on my old tennies, and so I at least mostly disregarded the mud that squelched around my shoes.
Then began the high-speed chase. I stalked toward the chickens in that spraddle-legged walk that only a pregnant woman can achieve. I was a holy terror on a righteous mission, bent on eradicating the vermin from my otherwise pristine life. They, in turn, strutted away in sheer terror.
We made our way toward the back of the pasture, where some of the panels had been bent out of shape in the last storm. It was their only refuge, and they made for it with the single-mindedness that only a chicken can achieve. I followed after them, a warrior intent on a cause, doing my pregnant best to keep them from scattering in four different directions, as only chickens can do. That hole in the fence was my goal as well, for outside the fence was another domain, one not under my protection.
We finally reached the refuge and I chased those chickens through, allowing them no recourse. That's right, fowl, don't mess with a pregnant lady!
Thinking back, I probably should have gotten a broom. Not only would that have helped enforce my point to the little buggers, it also would have made some great imagery. I also probably should have gotten a camera, as a pregnant lady chasing four chickens through a mudhole can't help but be an amusing picture.
Then, I saw them. Four of them. Strutting around in our pasture like they belonged there.
Chickens.
Have I ever mentioned that I hate chickens? It has to do with painful childhood experiences. You know, the kind that run deep and require serious therapy to overcome. I would rather just hate the chickens. It's more fun.
So I did what any normal, rational, protective housewife would do: I dropped the diaper bag on the doorstep and waddled my pregnant body over to the pasture to chase them away.
They must have sensed my outrage, because they started edging away from the gate they'd been contemplating going through when they saw my first steps toward them. By the time I actually reached said gate, they were a good three feet away from it. I stormed into the pasture, almost heedless of the mud that squelched ever so slightly around my shoes.
Okay, maybe I wasn't heedless of the mud. After all, at this point in the winter, the entire pasture is a mudpit, and a lot of the top layer isn't actually mud, if you know what I mean. Fortunately, I had on my old tennies, and so I at least mostly disregarded the mud that squelched around my shoes.
Then began the high-speed chase. I stalked toward the chickens in that spraddle-legged walk that only a pregnant woman can achieve. I was a holy terror on a righteous mission, bent on eradicating the vermin from my otherwise pristine life. They, in turn, strutted away in sheer terror.
We made our way toward the back of the pasture, where some of the panels had been bent out of shape in the last storm. It was their only refuge, and they made for it with the single-mindedness that only a chicken can achieve. I followed after them, a warrior intent on a cause, doing my pregnant best to keep them from scattering in four different directions, as only chickens can do. That hole in the fence was my goal as well, for outside the fence was another domain, one not under my protection.
We finally reached the refuge and I chased those chickens through, allowing them no recourse. That's right, fowl, don't mess with a pregnant lady!
Thinking back, I probably should have gotten a broom. Not only would that have helped enforce my point to the little buggers, it also would have made some great imagery. I also probably should have gotten a camera, as a pregnant lady chasing four chickens through a mudhole can't help but be an amusing picture.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
The Camera Story
It came! After various mix-ups and confusions and illnesses (the lady I finally bought it from couldn't ship it for a couple of weeks due to the stomach flu) my camera finally arrived on Saturday. Hurray!!!
So, here's what I ended up with:
Pretty, huh? It's a Kodak Easyshare z740. If I'd bought it retail, it would have cost me hundreds of dollars. This one came with a printer/charger dock, several cables, a neck strap, and some batteries- all for $80. That included the shipping. And, because the lady took so long to ship it, she threw in a camera bag for free, which was a nice deal.
There are a couple of downsides to this camera that I picked up. The first is that the flash doesn't come up/stay up with the button push like it's supposed to. I have to hold the button and pry up the flash. Then I have to hold it while taking my pictures. It's a little annoying, but livable. The other downside, and something I had never thought about when buying from ebay before, was that when we opened the box, out wafted the strong smell of cigarette smoke. Blech.
The first order of business, obviously, was to clean everything. I used my regular cleaning products first, then coated everything in febreze, using a paper towel. It's better, now, plus the whole thing looks a lot cleaner. The camera itself still smells faintly of smoke when I put it up next to my face, but it's not bad. The camera bag, however, was the main culprit. We doused it thoroughly with febreze, left it outside for two days, then doused it again. Hopefully it will be better tomorrow.
The second order of business was to charge it. It's sitting on the charger dock right now, taunting me.
Soon I'll get a sim card so I can take more than 20 pictures at a time.
Then, my friends, I will begin to learn. Woohoo!
I specifically got this camera because it has the letters PASM on its controls. In my limited research, I've discovered that those letters give me the freedom to control shutter speed and aperture and stuff. I have much experimenting to do, and I think it might be fun to experiment and learn here with all of you as my witnesses.
Plus, if your camera happens to have those same letters, maybe you can learn along with me. Let me know if you're interested, and I'll figure out ways to incorporate your pictures into my blog as well, if you'd like.
Anyway, cheers!
So, here's what I ended up with:
Pretty, huh? It's a Kodak Easyshare z740. If I'd bought it retail, it would have cost me hundreds of dollars. This one came with a printer/charger dock, several cables, a neck strap, and some batteries- all for $80. That included the shipping. And, because the lady took so long to ship it, she threw in a camera bag for free, which was a nice deal.
There are a couple of downsides to this camera that I picked up. The first is that the flash doesn't come up/stay up with the button push like it's supposed to. I have to hold the button and pry up the flash. Then I have to hold it while taking my pictures. It's a little annoying, but livable. The other downside, and something I had never thought about when buying from ebay before, was that when we opened the box, out wafted the strong smell of cigarette smoke. Blech.
The first order of business, obviously, was to clean everything. I used my regular cleaning products first, then coated everything in febreze, using a paper towel. It's better, now, plus the whole thing looks a lot cleaner. The camera itself still smells faintly of smoke when I put it up next to my face, but it's not bad. The camera bag, however, was the main culprit. We doused it thoroughly with febreze, left it outside for two days, then doused it again. Hopefully it will be better tomorrow.
The second order of business was to charge it. It's sitting on the charger dock right now, taunting me.
Soon I'll get a sim card so I can take more than 20 pictures at a time.
Then, my friends, I will begin to learn. Woohoo!
I specifically got this camera because it has the letters PASM on its controls. In my limited research, I've discovered that those letters give me the freedom to control shutter speed and aperture and stuff. I have much experimenting to do, and I think it might be fun to experiment and learn here with all of you as my witnesses.
Plus, if your camera happens to have those same letters, maybe you can learn along with me. Let me know if you're interested, and I'll figure out ways to incorporate your pictures into my blog as well, if you'd like.
Anyway, cheers!
Monday, February 14, 2011
Happy Valentine's Day!!!
Did anyone else have a fantastic weekend? I sure did. The sun was shining and the days were warm. Seriously, they were warm enough that on Saturday I took Cruise out of the pasture and let him graze on our front lawn, and on Sunday our little family went for a walk at the park. Schprid was fascinated by the ducks at the pond. It was great. Just thought I'd share. Actually, I have a couple of fun stories from the weekend, but in the interest of suspense, I'll share those over the next couple of days.
For today, because it's a holiday, I feel the need to address the love in the air. Does anyone else feel it? I'll admit, I actually feel it more because of all the other V-day blogs that are addressing it. These are two of my favorites:
Pioneer Woman
Jansen Family Adventures (I hope it's okay that I'm linking to your blog!)
So much cuteness! I'm excited for my own kids to get older so we can do more to celebrate. For now, I'm excited for the yummy dinner we have planned for tonight... and for the gift exchange. Heehee. So fun!
For today, because it's a holiday, I feel the need to address the love in the air. Does anyone else feel it? I'll admit, I actually feel it more because of all the other V-day blogs that are addressing it. These are two of my favorites:
Pioneer Woman
Jansen Family Adventures (I hope it's okay that I'm linking to your blog!)
So much cuteness! I'm excited for my own kids to get older so we can do more to celebrate. For now, I'm excited for the yummy dinner we have planned for tonight... and for the gift exchange. Heehee. So fun!
Friday, February 11, 2011
Anticipation
At the beginning of this month, I ordered another camera off of ebay. It's another Kodak Easyshare, slightly different model, and slightly more expensive than the other one was. I'd learned my lesson, though. This time, I made sure to order from a seller with high ratings, rather than one with no ratings at all. Said camera was supposed to arrive on the 9th or 10th of this month.
I got a message on the 9th, saying that it had shipped. The delivery date was still estimated as the 9th or 10th, which was obviously somewhat unrealistic. At this point, I have no tracking number, nor do I know where the camera was shipped from or whom it was shipped with. I'm fairly certain it was within the U.S., though, so it shouldn't take more than a few days.
Hence, every day I wake up thinking, "Maybe this is the day! Maybe my camera will come today!" I would surely love to have it. I have much to learn with it before Wooble shows up, and I've been dreaming of such a camera for months.
Plus, I'll get to play catch-up and post pictures of a growing Schprid, Schprid's pretty new bedroom, the cardboard box fort that I made for her, the curtains that were recently put up in our front room... plus the random pictures of Ki'i, Cruise, and my ever-growing belly, which I'm sure everybody wants to see. ;)
I got a message on the 9th, saying that it had shipped. The delivery date was still estimated as the 9th or 10th, which was obviously somewhat unrealistic. At this point, I have no tracking number, nor do I know where the camera was shipped from or whom it was shipped with. I'm fairly certain it was within the U.S., though, so it shouldn't take more than a few days.
Hence, every day I wake up thinking, "Maybe this is the day! Maybe my camera will come today!" I would surely love to have it. I have much to learn with it before Wooble shows up, and I've been dreaming of such a camera for months.
Plus, I'll get to play catch-up and post pictures of a growing Schprid, Schprid's pretty new bedroom, the cardboard box fort that I made for her, the curtains that were recently put up in our front room... plus the random pictures of Ki'i, Cruise, and my ever-growing belly, which I'm sure everybody wants to see. ;)
Thursday, February 10, 2011
David and Goliath
We have many books for Schprid. A few of them are Bible stories. They're large board books- just perfect for a little Schprid. Last night, Hubby read David and Goliath, the abridged version. This is how it went:
This is David. David is a nice guy. He watches over the sheep.
This is Goliath. He's mean. He's big. He goes "Grrr!"
Lots of David's friends tried to tell Goliath not to be mean, but he didn't listen. David wanted to try. His friends all said, "No, you're too little. You can't tell Goliath not to be mean." David said, "It's okay, God will be with me."
So, David went to talk to Goliath. He said, "Goliath, stop being mean." Goliath said, "No." So, David hit Goliath in the head with a rock.
See? David was a nice guy.
Maybe it's not so much a children's story after all...
This is David. David is a nice guy. He watches over the sheep.
This is Goliath. He's mean. He's big. He goes "Grrr!"
Lots of David's friends tried to tell Goliath not to be mean, but he didn't listen. David wanted to try. His friends all said, "No, you're too little. You can't tell Goliath not to be mean." David said, "It's okay, God will be with me."
So, David went to talk to Goliath. He said, "Goliath, stop being mean." Goliath said, "No." So, David hit Goliath in the head with a rock.
See? David was a nice guy.
Maybe it's not so much a children's story after all...
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Fashion Fickle
I have a problem.
I believe fashion is all sorts of fun, and I love getting inspired by all the cool ideas I find on shows, blogs, etc. And then I try my hand at it.
Don't get me wrong, I'm decent at decorating. I'm not spectacular by any means, but I think part of that is just lack of practice.
No, my real problem is this: I can't decide on what I actually like. I see something in the store, and it looks great to me. By the time I get it home, it looks either stale and boring or eccentric in a bad way. I don't understand how people can take items, decide they like them, and then incorporate these same items into a room, outfit, yard, or whatever and make an overall fresh and exciting look. The funny thing is, often I will see the individual items that other people use and inwardly cringe. Then, I see the overall effect and fall in love. How does that happen?
The logical side of my brain says that I should pick up items that make me cringe and bring them home, then try to work with them. Trouble is, that will just leave me with a house full of cringiness and no idea how to use them.
How do you deal with fashion?
I believe fashion is all sorts of fun, and I love getting inspired by all the cool ideas I find on shows, blogs, etc. And then I try my hand at it.
Don't get me wrong, I'm decent at decorating. I'm not spectacular by any means, but I think part of that is just lack of practice.
No, my real problem is this: I can't decide on what I actually like. I see something in the store, and it looks great to me. By the time I get it home, it looks either stale and boring or eccentric in a bad way. I don't understand how people can take items, decide they like them, and then incorporate these same items into a room, outfit, yard, or whatever and make an overall fresh and exciting look. The funny thing is, often I will see the individual items that other people use and inwardly cringe. Then, I see the overall effect and fall in love. How does that happen?
The logical side of my brain says that I should pick up items that make me cringe and bring them home, then try to work with them. Trouble is, that will just leave me with a house full of cringiness and no idea how to use them.
How do you deal with fashion?
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Sucker!
Schprid and I both had doctor appointments yesterday. Everything looks good. In fact, everything about the appointments were going well until Schprid tried to climb up on the table herself. Sadly, the stepstool wasn't pulled out quite far enough, and she lost her balance. She fell backwards, bumped her head, bruised her pride, and immediately set up a healthy wail. I picked her up, gave her love and hugs and kisses and everything that a Mommy has to offer. The doctor had something better. She brought out a sucker.
Oh, boy, that was the best thing our Schprid has ever had! She stuck that thing in her mouth and proceeded to drool all over everything. Meanwhile, I scrambled around in the diaper bag as fast as I could for something- anything!- to wipe her up with. I came up with a diaper wipe. Fortunately, she was still in only a diaper, which helped with the cleaning-up process. Which happened about 6 times in the course of one dum-dum.
Little-known fact: the best part of the sucker is the stick. That's right. When the stick just below the candy gets too soggy to actually hold up the dum-dum anymore, the easiest fix is to just bite the whole thing off, candy, stick, and all. I tried to pry it out of her mouth, thinking that it wasn't the best thing in the world for her to eat, but this little girl who normally opens her mouth very willingly and happily for me clamped her little teeth shut and wouldn't let me in. Nope, she was keeping that stick and whatever remnants of candy were left on it very firmly to herself, thank you very much.
Ah, yes. That's why I'm generally opposed to suckers for little people. I think we'll ban them until my youngest child is about 10.
Oh, boy, that was the best thing our Schprid has ever had! She stuck that thing in her mouth and proceeded to drool all over everything. Meanwhile, I scrambled around in the diaper bag as fast as I could for something- anything!- to wipe her up with. I came up with a diaper wipe. Fortunately, she was still in only a diaper, which helped with the cleaning-up process. Which happened about 6 times in the course of one dum-dum.
Little-known fact: the best part of the sucker is the stick. That's right. When the stick just below the candy gets too soggy to actually hold up the dum-dum anymore, the easiest fix is to just bite the whole thing off, candy, stick, and all. I tried to pry it out of her mouth, thinking that it wasn't the best thing in the world for her to eat, but this little girl who normally opens her mouth very willingly and happily for me clamped her little teeth shut and wouldn't let me in. Nope, she was keeping that stick and whatever remnants of candy were left on it very firmly to herself, thank you very much.
Ah, yes. That's why I'm generally opposed to suckers for little people. I think we'll ban them until my youngest child is about 10.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Weekend Accomplishment
We put up curtains!!!
Dang it. I wasn't going to just blurt it out like that. Let me try again.
Okay, you ready for this?
Are you sure?
Are you really sure?
Are you... okay, okay, I'll stop.
Seriously though, we put up curtains in our front room. It's been needing them for awhile, and we finally got around to it. They're cute, too. They're really just valances with swags, but get this: I made them. To top it off, the curtains for both windows, including the rods, fabric, ribbons, etc., cost less than $25. Not bad, I think, for my first-ever foray into the frightening and complex world of curtains.
Yeah, I was pretty proud of myself. I didn't use a pattern or anything, so they're pretty simple. I was inspired by this blog on window mistreatments. I'll post pictures when I finally get that camera...
Next stop: curtains for the kitchen. In a while. Probably after Wooble makes an appearance. And I get the house clean. And learn how to walk again. Not in that order.
Is anyone else feeling scattered this morning?
Dang it. I wasn't going to just blurt it out like that. Let me try again.
Okay, you ready for this?
Are you sure?
Are you really sure?
Are you... okay, okay, I'll stop.
Seriously though, we put up curtains in our front room. It's been needing them for awhile, and we finally got around to it. They're cute, too. They're really just valances with swags, but get this: I made them. To top it off, the curtains for both windows, including the rods, fabric, ribbons, etc., cost less than $25. Not bad, I think, for my first-ever foray into the frightening and complex world of curtains.
Yeah, I was pretty proud of myself. I didn't use a pattern or anything, so they're pretty simple. I was inspired by this blog on window mistreatments. I'll post pictures when I finally get that camera...
Next stop: curtains for the kitchen. In a while. Probably after Wooble makes an appearance. And I get the house clean. And learn how to walk again. Not in that order.
Is anyone else feeling scattered this morning?
Friday, February 4, 2011
It's FRI-day!
Once upon a time, when I was in elementary school, one of our teachers walked into the room and announced in a loud, happy, sing-songy voice, "It's FRI-day!!!" That would have been funny in and of itself, but her voice cracked in the middle of saying FRI-day, making the first syllable over-loud, over-enthusiastic, and very high-pitched. We all teased her and laughed at her about it for a few weeks- including the other teachers.
To this day, I hear that voice in my head, announcing happily when it's FRI-day. I grin to myself and think about what the weekend has to offer.
This weekend? Nothing grand, for sure, but Hubby's coming home from work tonight and I get to see him and be with him and play with him all weekend long. Nothing makes me happier.
It's FRI-day!!!
What are your plans for the weekend?
To this day, I hear that voice in my head, announcing happily when it's FRI-day. I grin to myself and think about what the weekend has to offer.
This weekend? Nothing grand, for sure, but Hubby's coming home from work tonight and I get to see him and be with him and play with him all weekend long. Nothing makes me happier.
It's FRI-day!!!
What are your plans for the weekend?
Thursday, February 3, 2011
One of Those Days
Yesterday, I worked hard. Schprid and I went to the library, then to Best Buy to look at some physical examples of cameras, then to Michaels to pick up some picture frames. Then it was home for lunch and naptime (at which point I did end up buying a camera on Ebay (wish me luck that I'll get it this time!) then off to the Church to decorate for, participate in, and clean up after the Blue and Gold Banquet for the cub scouts. There have definitely been busier days in my life, but do all that whilst toting around a toddler and being seven months pregnant, and it becomes a rather full day.
Each night, my hips complain about being pregnant. They don't like it. For some reason, last night was particularly bad. I lay in bed feeling as though there was a knife stuck into my back right about where my right hip joins my spine. Of course, most nights I manage to fall asleep anyway and sometime during my creepy dreams the pain subsides and I'm able to face the next day as though nothing is wrong. This morning, however, there is still some remnant of the pain I felt last night.
Hence, I designate today as a Baby-Making Day.
You know the kind. It's the type of day when you dress up in your sweats, watch movies, putter around the house, and don't eat a single meal at the kitchen table. It's the type of day when you blow off the exercising you're supposed to do and instead eat pasta and ice cream. You live the day with the full intent of relaxing both your body and your mind, with the goal of recharging your batteries and luxuriating in the simple pleasures of life.
Okay, okay, so I milk it a little bit when I'm pregnant. Still, I think it's going to be a good day.
Each night, my hips complain about being pregnant. They don't like it. For some reason, last night was particularly bad. I lay in bed feeling as though there was a knife stuck into my back right about where my right hip joins my spine. Of course, most nights I manage to fall asleep anyway and sometime during my creepy dreams the pain subsides and I'm able to face the next day as though nothing is wrong. This morning, however, there is still some remnant of the pain I felt last night.
Hence, I designate today as a Baby-Making Day.
You know the kind. It's the type of day when you dress up in your sweats, watch movies, putter around the house, and don't eat a single meal at the kitchen table. It's the type of day when you blow off the exercising you're supposed to do and instead eat pasta and ice cream. You live the day with the full intent of relaxing both your body and your mind, with the goal of recharging your batteries and luxuriating in the simple pleasures of life.
Okay, okay, so I milk it a little bit when I'm pregnant. Still, I think it's going to be a good day.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
A Couple of Anecdotes
Dinner Time
Hubby loves my cooking. He's told me this many times over. It's delightful, knowing that I can make him so happy in an area that's so important to him.
Recently, he's started complaining that the food is too good and he can't stop eating even though he's very full. He'll usually sit and just pick at the dishes a little here and a little there after the meal is over. I sit and snigger at him. And bask in the unspoken compliments.
Last night, I made nachos. It was great... just a cookie sheet filled to the brim with chips, meat, cheese sauce, olives, salsa, and guacamole. No plates. We ate communally. It ended up making more than I had anticipated- hence the cookie sheet rather than a plate.
We ate. We talked. We enjoyed life. Even Schprid liked the food, which was awesome because she can be unaccountably picky.
Finally, Hubby sat back in his chair, looked down at the food, and said in a very annoyed tone, "Go away!" at which point he proceeded to take another bite.
Best compliment ever.
***********
Miscommunication
After the meal, we figured it was a good time to sit, relax, digest, be a family, and focus on the Schprid. We retired to the family room and sacked out on different couches, with Schprid bouncing between us asking for various books to be read and games to be played.
As we watched her and played with her, I told Hubby the fun stories from the day. Schprid had stepped on Ki'i's tail, then nicely went and apologized to her. Well, she tried to apologize. Ki'i kept running away, which made that difficult. Later, while I was trying to organize some paperwork, Schprid had climbed up on the piano bench and rocked out to her own playing for ten minutes or so. This has become more fun since she's figured out how to turn the piano on and keep the volume up.
At this point in the storytelling, Schprid went over to her Daddy, stretched out her arms, and very distinctly said, "Up." He, being the dutiful and wonderful daddy that he is, picked her up and put her in his lap. Her face crumpled and she started fussing, to Hubby's complete consternation.
"What?" he asked her. "You wanted up, so I got you up." She was obviously not content, and wriggled her way down out of his lap.
Once down, she again stretched out her arms and said, "Up!" This time, however, she managed to get ahold of Hubby's hand and started backing up, pulling him with all her 19-month-old strength up and out of the couch. Then she dragged him into the other room, climbed up on the piano bench, and proceeded to show off the same piano skills I had just been telling him about.
Needless to say, we were both very proud of her communication skills, given her limited vocabulary. We were also very proud of her piano skills. We were also laughing at the whole situation and the matter-of-fact way in which she had handled the whole thing. Great times.
Hubby loves my cooking. He's told me this many times over. It's delightful, knowing that I can make him so happy in an area that's so important to him.
Recently, he's started complaining that the food is too good and he can't stop eating even though he's very full. He'll usually sit and just pick at the dishes a little here and a little there after the meal is over. I sit and snigger at him. And bask in the unspoken compliments.
Last night, I made nachos. It was great... just a cookie sheet filled to the brim with chips, meat, cheese sauce, olives, salsa, and guacamole. No plates. We ate communally. It ended up making more than I had anticipated- hence the cookie sheet rather than a plate.
We ate. We talked. We enjoyed life. Even Schprid liked the food, which was awesome because she can be unaccountably picky.
Finally, Hubby sat back in his chair, looked down at the food, and said in a very annoyed tone, "Go away!" at which point he proceeded to take another bite.
Best compliment ever.
***********
Miscommunication
After the meal, we figured it was a good time to sit, relax, digest, be a family, and focus on the Schprid. We retired to the family room and sacked out on different couches, with Schprid bouncing between us asking for various books to be read and games to be played.
As we watched her and played with her, I told Hubby the fun stories from the day. Schprid had stepped on Ki'i's tail, then nicely went and apologized to her. Well, she tried to apologize. Ki'i kept running away, which made that difficult. Later, while I was trying to organize some paperwork, Schprid had climbed up on the piano bench and rocked out to her own playing for ten minutes or so. This has become more fun since she's figured out how to turn the piano on and keep the volume up.
At this point in the storytelling, Schprid went over to her Daddy, stretched out her arms, and very distinctly said, "Up." He, being the dutiful and wonderful daddy that he is, picked her up and put her in his lap. Her face crumpled and she started fussing, to Hubby's complete consternation.
"What?" he asked her. "You wanted up, so I got you up." She was obviously not content, and wriggled her way down out of his lap.
Once down, she again stretched out her arms and said, "Up!" This time, however, she managed to get ahold of Hubby's hand and started backing up, pulling him with all her 19-month-old strength up and out of the couch. Then she dragged him into the other room, climbed up on the piano bench, and proceeded to show off the same piano skills I had just been telling him about.
Needless to say, we were both very proud of her communication skills, given her limited vocabulary. We were also very proud of her piano skills. We were also laughing at the whole situation and the matter-of-fact way in which she had handled the whole thing. Great times.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
February 1st
Happy Birthday, little Brother!
I say little, but only because he's five years younger than I am. For several years now I've looked up to both my little brothers.
And so, today I do a tribute to this little brother, now 23 years of age and, hopefully, 23 years of wisdom.
Little Brother,
Thank you for being who you are. Thank you for being smart, for having fun conversations, for working toward what you want and knowing yourself enough to determine what you don't want. Thank you for playing games, for going snowboarding, and for doing good things with your friends. It might sound strange to thank you for those things, but it is good to know that you have good, clean interests, that you are enjoying life. I admire you very much for the things you have done and the things you still want to do.
If I were to give you any big-sisterly advice, it would be this: Keep working. Keep playing. Keep learning. Life will keep getting better.
Love you tons!
Big Sis
P.S. Here's a weird thought for you... in six months, you'll be the same age Hubby was when we got married.
I say little, but only because he's five years younger than I am. For several years now I've looked up to both my little brothers.
And so, today I do a tribute to this little brother, now 23 years of age and, hopefully, 23 years of wisdom.
Little Brother,
Thank you for being who you are. Thank you for being smart, for having fun conversations, for working toward what you want and knowing yourself enough to determine what you don't want. Thank you for playing games, for going snowboarding, and for doing good things with your friends. It might sound strange to thank you for those things, but it is good to know that you have good, clean interests, that you are enjoying life. I admire you very much for the things you have done and the things you still want to do.
If I were to give you any big-sisterly advice, it would be this: Keep working. Keep playing. Keep learning. Life will keep getting better.
Love you tons!
Big Sis
P.S. Here's a weird thought for you... in six months, you'll be the same age Hubby was when we got married.
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