Charlyn’s Web

We woke up to it lying lovely white around us.

The kids were excited.

The Mother was not so just because she knows the work involved in getting everyone outside in it. Layers of clothes, find the gloves, complain about no clean socks (I wish someone would do their laundry!), sort out whose hat is whose, etc. and so forth. But just because I see the negative in everything doesn’t mean the kids can’t go out and enjoy.

So….. we went through the whole ordeal. Made sure everyone had gone to the bathroom. Yelled numerous times about not walking through the house from one door to the other with their muddy boots on. Listened to the complaints about the hat being too tight. Got the gloves on upside down but convinced her they would still work. Just so that two of them could stand on the porch. You see, snow is crunchy, for goodness sakes, and that is scary!

But The Boy and I had a good snowball fight and built a snowman. While the peanut gallery stood safely on the fringes, watching. I got K finally to venture out to put the eyes on the snowman. The crunchiness didn’t kill her, surprise! Although she did walk pretty carefully. So then I dragged T around the yard by the hand to prove to her that crunchy snow was not deadly.

Then The Boy was playing with The Dog and slipped on the rocks injuring his hand. Let’s just say I am ever thankful that the neighbors don’t live close or they would think that I torture that child the way he screams when he is hurt. It was decided it was time to go in. T’s hands tend to get really cold even with gloves on and they can really hurt her so it was just as well.

They got hot chocolate when we came in. They still think snow is pretty neat.

I am waiting for my mood to improve which will hopefully happen before it snows again.

Now, you all, watch out for that Horrid Crunchy Snow! Don’t let it get you!

*Edited for clarity. See last big paragraph.*

(Or an alternate title: I should be cleaning but am in a really rotten mood so I am blogging) 🙂

Am I reading the wonderfully bound copy of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Eyre that my Dad lent me ages ago? Am I reading the book about Corrie Ten Boom titled The Five Silent Years by Pamela Rosewell Moore that I should return to the friends who are coming over for dinner tonight? No. I am not expanding my classical literary knowledge or my faith. I am reading Baking Illustrated- The Practical Kitchen Companion For The Home Baker. (I did not pay this much for it! Ack!) How does one ‘read’ a cookbook? I don’t know but I find the plot fascinating, the techniques interesting and the end results thrilling. See, I told you I was twitchy.

When we go to the library I end up grabbing books for the kids that look interesting. I don’t spend a lot of time perusing them because of our limited attention and quiet span. Unfortunately, I end up with duds part of the time. You know, the books that make you wonder how they were ever published in the first place. Ones where kids act awful and there are no consequences or morals thrown in. Those books quickly find their way to the bottom of the pile or I downright refuse to read them again. But this last trip I came home with some gems. One is called Museum Trip by Barbara Lehman . It is a wordless book about a boy’s adventures in a museum. It’s fun because we can speculate as to what is going on and add our own conversations. The pictures have detail that we can talk about and it leaves it open as to what actually happened. The one I picked out for me, because I am so sloth-like myself, is Score One for the Sloths by Helen Lester . It’s about a school of sloths that is threatened to be shut down by a Wild Boar (you can tell he is wild by the way he dresses) and how one plucky sloth named Sparky saves the day. Again the illustrations are good and there is lots of things to spot that help the story. The last really neat one is called The Quiltmakers Gift by Jeff Brumbeau and illustrated by Gail de Marcken. I love the pictures in it, there is much to look at and absorb! The story is a bit over long but even the girls can sit through it. The vague disturbance I have with it is that God is missing from the story. But I try to emphasis to the kids that all the wonderful things the King owned didn’t make him happy but by giving them to others who needed them he gained joy. The blessings of giving is a wonderful thing for little ones to learn. I kept trying to emphasis this as we selected things for our Operation Christmas Child shoe boxes yesterday. These things were not for us but for kids who have nothing and this will be a blessing to them.

The Col. reads to The Boy every night. They have been reading through the Sugar Creek Gang series (we have the full set). But The Col. was getting a bit tired of them so for a break I suggested they read (some of you will appreciate this more than others) Hank the Cowdog. They read the Priceless Corncob one. I haven’t seen The Col. laugh so hard in years. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. He wondered how he went so many years without reading one. After he was an adult he knew some kids (yes, DH- yours) that read them but he figured he was too manure mature to read them at that time.

Ah, the joys we discover now with our own children that we somehow missed in our own childhood.

Now, I guess I had better clean house, company tonight.

I awoke to hear footsteps coming down the hall. It wasn’t terrible early but it’s a day when The Col. leaves early and I like to lounge in bed for a bit. It wasn’t the usual footsteps that I hear early in the morning. The Otter had already been up surveying the situation and had quietly gone back to bed. These footsteps were bigger, louder so I knew it was The Boy. He paused inside the door. I contemplated not opening my eyes but he lingered long enough I thought I’d take a peek. He saw the eyes.

“Moooooommmm!”

Sigh. What?

“K dropped gum in my bed and it’s all over me! And the bed!”

Groan. Al l right I’ll be there in a minute.

As I got up and dressed I heard him jumping around in his room. I finally figured out it was to try and stay warm. I was actually feeling a wee bit sorry for him.

I headed back and first tried rubbing it off with my fingers. The Boy doesn’t have a high tolerance for pain and he is not quiet about expressing himself. After a few shrieks in my ear I decided that wasn’t working and we went to the bathroom to use a washcloth. I tried a warm washcloth because the poor skinny thing was pretty cold but that tended to soften it and cause it to get gummy again so it was taking quite a bit of rubbing. I’d work on one area, the inside of his leg, and then another, one of his arms, so that one area wouldn’t get too tender. All the while listening to the shrieks coming from his poor tortured mouth. I was hoping to get his leg cleaned off so he could get pants on to help him warm up. I was cursing K and contemplating a gum ban for her and possibly the world when she wandered in.

The Boy yelled at her that it was all her fault. She confessed that it had fallen out of her mouth when they were wrestling and that they had looked for it but couldn’t find it.

Wait a minute! THEY looked for it? Did H know it was there? Why yes, the (I really want to put “idiot” here but we don’t allow name calling in our house) precious child did know it was there. They looked for it in their childish way, exactly where they thought it landed and couldn’t see it so they promptly stopped looking. Nor did they tell a Parental Unit about said lost gum.

I promptly stopped feeling even the teeniest amount of sympathy and rubbed to my hearts content.

The gum is off The Boy but is still on the sheets. I’ll have to figure out how to get it off of there next.

What a way to start the day.

Or is the Col.’s Grinchiness finally rubbing off?

I used to love Christmas…. before I married Col. Grinch.

I am trying to be organized and get ideas (at least) for the kids’ Christmas presents. Now, don’t anyone go telling me they are all through, finished, done with the lot. I will seriously roll my eyes at you. Feel threatened? Really, I think I am doing well to even be thinking about it. As Col. Grinch says- “why worry about it now, when you can really feel the stress on Dec. 24th?” See!?!?!

So I go a browsing on line and through catalogs for ideas. Might even go hog wild and buy something. That’s when I hit the brick wall. I want to get my kids a few nice things that they will enjoy. Not tons of junk that will sit in a corner. Not so much ‘stuff’ that their eyes glaze over with gluttony on Christmas morning. Just a few well chosen gifts.

But what do I find out there? Toys based on TV shows or movies- which we seldom watch and which my kids don’t seem too interested in outside of the show. Noisy toys intended to drive Parents insane. I feel like the Grinch now saying “noise, Noise, NOISE!” Why must all toys require batteries and make annoying sounds? Since we are a nation of wealth and personally, we accumulate things; we have already have much of what is being offered. Cooking things, dolls, stuffed animals, cars, airplanes, Legos and Gears. How much more of that… stuff do we need? Need, of course, not really being the word to use because we don’t need any of it.

My Dad, one of eight children, who grew up in the 30’s says they would get one pair of mittens each or a sled to share between them. They were happy. Some of his fondest memories was of the things Grandma baked at Christmas. To this day he gets terribly grumpy if he doesn’t get Christmas goodies. I think he associates it with love and the joy of Christmas. What will my kids associate with Christmas when they are in their 70s?

Now, we feel guilty somehow if the Tree is not almost covered with presents. We have some friends, whose children are young adults now, who commented to us when HP was a little guy that they wished they hadn’t gone so over board with Christmas presents when their kids were young. Then, when they wished to de-emphasis the presents and glorify the True Gift of the Season; they were finding it hard to do. How many gifts is too many? I found this lady who says they give four gifts each year. One for what the child wants. One for what they need. One that is practical. And one that is Spiritual. I have been mulling that around. My Mom is the Queen of being “fair”- which usually means trying to get the same number of presents and spend the same on everyone. Man, that takes a lot of energy!

But I am still stuck for ideas. I think I want the kids to be thrilled with what they get and therefore put more pressure on myself then need be. At this age, they are happy often with opening presents and having new things- no matter what it is. That will change as we age.

I am sure I will find something for everyone. Eventually. Hopefully before Dec. 24th. I will bake, decorate and wrap. Dragging my Grinch along with me because I am a glutton for punishment. Or it could be because I love the Old Devil.

I was intending to go on a rant about the toys offered out there and how so many just seem unattractive. And of course, made in China- that Eviiil place. But somehow it ended up being more of a commentary about Christmas presents in general. What are your thoughts about presents and Christmas? Just call me the Wife of Grinch.

Maybe I should dye my hair green.

A very big Thank You to all who served our Country or who are currently serving. Where would we be without you? Our Country stands strong because of people like you!

Today, hug your favorite veteran!

“It’s a girl!”

What am I going to do with a girl?

After five years, I still wonder that.

She was beautiful.

She still is.

She had large almost black eyes. They are chocolate brown now with long lashes

Her hair was kinky at first. I thought What genetic throw back is this? But it washed out and she had curly hair for awhile. It still has body and curls easy.

She is girl to the core. Pink and lace and frills. But she will also wrestle with her brother, sister and father.

She has always known what she wants. No waffling for this girl. It’s another genetic throw back.

I remember being huge and exhausted while pregnant with T, so K was less than 18 months old and I was  saying something along the lines of “I suppose I should change your diaper.” Not really meaning it because then I would have to get up. Quite a daunting thought. She would head down the hall and if I didn’t follow fast enough come back looking for me, wondering what was taking me so long. We have learned to really mean it when we say something.

She is helpful, kind, energetic, decisive, funny. She is my middle child, my first girl, joy of my heart.

Happy Birthday KJ!

Someone I don’t know has signed up to be notified when I post something. Gasp! A stranger. (cue ominous music)

When someone I was barely acquainted with signed up I had writer’s block. It was more like writer’s anxiety. What would she think of me if I admitted something a bit ‘off’? I am a bit ‘off’ sometimes. It’s one thing to write to you folks who have known me FOREVER- I won’t say actual years because that would date me. You all know I’m twitchy and still love me. Maybe even like me, but I wouldn’t want to go too far. But someone who doesn’t really know me? What will they think?

I was obsessing about this and also composing a blog entry about my ‘almost five year old’ when I was working in the kitchen. We have the most lovely, quirky system that leads to our dishwasher. The Col. put it in. Does that tell you something? But truth be told, it’s not his fault but the fault of an odd shaped (dare I use this word on my blog? With a Stranger in our Midst?) nipple. Therefore, it doesn’t seal correctly and leaks. It’s been ‘fixed’ several times and I think it’s been decided that it’s a futile effort. So every time I want to use the dishwasher ( read ‘daily’) I get to pull out the garbage can, crawl under the sink and turn on the very unhandily located facet. Then when it’s done, I need to remember to turn it off again. So I was working away, filled the dishwasher and crawled down to turn on the faucet, not really thinking about what I am doing. I start up the dishwasher. It’s making odd noises. What is it’s problem? I turned on the water… Didn’t I?… Sigh. No, I had turned it OFF for goodness sakes! Gosh! See how flustered I am? I would never have made this mistake if there wasn’t a Stranger here making me all nervous.

OK! So if I had actually remembered to turn it off the last time, this probably wouldn’t have happened. It’s the kid’s fault- they suck out all your memory cells, ya know. Anyway, let’s just keep this between ourselves- no need to tell The Col. about leaving the leaky faucet on for …. awhile.

And a Stranger is just someone we don’t know yet. So welcome aboard.

We went for a walk/bike ride down to get the mail yesterday. The kids all on their bikes and The. Col. and I walking- the dog was along too. It was a sunny day and a very nice day for a stroll.

We got down to the pavement and decided to go to the neighbor’s driveway a bit farther down the road. We often do this as a way to extend the walk and give the kids a chance to ride on the pavement for a bit.

I was walking along when TG, on her trike, slowly cut over in front of me. I thought “that’s good! She is getting to the edge of the road.”

But she didn’t stop. About the time I yelled “What are you doing!?!?” She had driven right into the ditch! And toppled over. She looked a little dazed as we helped her up and straightened the trike. But she just brushed herself off and as she got back on the trike commented:

“I must have been sleeping.”

I went out tonight to get my hair trimmed feeling sassy in a new top. The wind was promptly let out of my sails when my hairdresser said

“I didn’t know you were pregnant!”

Other things that I learned (or why I should be blond) :

No matter how hard you try, a Mercedes car key will not fit into the ignition of a Honda vehicle.

The “D” does not mean ‘Reverse’.

Deer are not known for their brains and they are not blond either. Luckily this one missed the van.

A book called “Score One for the Sloths” is just the kind of book for me. I said I was checking it out for my children.

And, honestly people! I am not that fat and empire waist shirts are in style. So if one. more. person. asks. if. I. am. pregnant. I. will……

SCREAM!!!!!!

I am sad to report that no one in our house calls our Church’s Harvest Festival “Harvest Vegetable” anymore. It has been out grown by the Boy Who Doesn’t Like to Be Posted About. When he was about 2 1/2, that is what he called it and it took a few times before it dawned on me what he was talking about. I thought he was talking about harvesting vegetables. He has a favorite stuffed toy from that year. He always has a great time.

This year was no exception. We ate hot dogs and chips. Yum! Then the kids get free tickets and get to pick which games they want to play. There are about 10 games varying in difficulty. TG liked the duck pond where a magnet is attached to a fishing pole and it is used to pick up a little duck. There are numbers on the duck and the child gets to pick a prize based on the number (one to three). Number One is most often candy with the prizes getting better with the higher numbers. Some of the games a ring or ball has to fall in the right place, in line or on the same color, to get the higher prizes. Another game that TG liked was the golf putting one. She was determined to get the ball in the hole but her putting skills left much to be desired. I think she got one in out of pure luck. KJ liked the duck one and the throw the ball/ring ones. HP liked a ball game. They ended up with a bag full of treats, a bag full of candy and a stuffed animal each.

At the end of it all, TG looked at me and asked when the Harvest Party was? I said we just did it! Later, as she hugged her Papa goodnight, she asked again about the Harvest Party and was told we just got home from it. She then asked about the food. We had hot dogs and chips, wasn’t that yummy? She still wasn’t satisfied and inquired again about the food. After thinking for a bit, her Papa realized she thought that at a “party” there should be cake and ice cream! Ah! We explained that this “party” didn’t have a cake but it was sure fun anyway!

It was a child’s Hog Heaven!