Thanksgiving Recap

So. Thanksgiving.

It began Friday when the kids got out for the holiday after the special Grandparents' Day chapel service. Shawn and I started preparing for all the family that was willing to come to us, to come to us.

But, then we realized they weren't coming until Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. And, my step-sisters and their families would be down at my mom and step-dad's come the Saturday before Thanksgiving. There really wasn't anything keeping us from going down for a little visit save a two-hour car drive. But, we can make that interstate drive with our eyes closed by now.

We did have to stick around for Lulu's finger check on Monday. But, come Monday evening, we were a-visitin'! And, Tuesday, we had Thanksgiving. (My mom is so good about "the date on the calendar doesn't matter. We can celebrate whenever we're all together!") And, so, we all stood around the kitchen on Tuesday and cooked a Thanksgiving meal together. It was awesome.

Also, while we were there. We stumbled upon Uno Attack. Do you people have this game?! Well, you should! It's plan ol' Uno but instead of a "draw pile" there is a machine that randomly shoots cards at you - it will give you no cards up to, well, we got twelve cards one time. So fun for kids 6 to 96 to be able to "attack" their loved ones!

Quote of the visit: "Come lick my finger and tell me what it tastes like."

We awoke Wednesday to hit the road home and welcome our own guests: Shawn's cousin, David, his wife, Anna, and their little girl, Cora; Shawn's aunt and uncle, Reda and Bill; Shawn's brother, Will, and his son David; and, of course, Shawn's parents live here, David and Marie. (Notice there are three Davids? One would assume this would cause mass confusion. But, somehow we manage. I guess because there's Little David and the two Big Daves have different last names. Or we, as a collective family, are brilliant and not very prone to confusion. One of those...) Shawn's other cousin (Reda & Bill's daughter) and her boyfriend would have been here but there was a little too much vomit coming out of them to make for a pleasant car trip... wait... I've probably said too much... And, Will's wife and daughter, Cynthia and Kristen, didn't make it this time either. We'll give everyone a pass... this time... but, we expect bright, shiny (vomit-free) faces at the next family-gathering!

This little group of Shawn's family have always been so gracious to come to our house for Thanksgiving the past... four... or is it five?!... years. And, they made no exception this year even though we moved the party two hours further away from them!

They kept saying we were the best hosts. But, seriously. They are the best guests. Case in point: I tried to rescue this mangy, little, mean, rat dog that was wandering the neighborhood one night. But, it wouldn't let anyone touch it, so I just lured it into the garage with a piece of turkey and trapped it there. However, by the time we figured out it didn't belong to anyone to whom we thought it belonged and was really just a mangy, little, mean, rat dog, it had torn open all the bags of Thanksgiving trash that were in the garage with it. However, somewhere in the time that I was told of the mess and turned around to deal with it, Shawn's uncle and cousin had cleaned up every ounce of the mess. Now those are good guests.

And, that's just one example. That doesn't include the hostess gifts, the laundry, the counter cleaner because they noticed we were out, the cooking, the taking us out to dinner, the fun games of Uno Attack (Oh yeah. We bought our own.), the black-Thursday night/Friday shopping adventures, or Anna, the professional photographer, taking our family's picture as a "thank you" again this year...

I'm telling you. Good guests.

And, cute kids.

Quote of the visit:

This one needs a little background.

We needed bread to make sandwiches from the Thanksgiving leftovers. So, after Anna took our pictures, we stopped by Walmart. I ran in while the kids, Shawn and Anna waited in the car.

I came back and announced to Shawn and Anna, "I think I made a new best friend. He was wearing a skull cap, had a crazy eye and I think he was a little bit drunk. But, we had a great time in the check-out line together."

Shawn asked how I knew he was drunk and I told him that he was buying mixer and, when asked (by me) if it had reached the point of Thanksgiving when it was time to start drinking, he replied, "Oh it already reached that point a long time ago."

Spencer piped in, "What's mixer?"

I said, "The stuff you use to make 'grown-up drinks.'"

Spence said, "What's drunk?"

I said, "When you drink too many 'grown-up drinks.'"

And, I truly believe Spence's next statement was meant to demonstrate how he could use his new-found word in a sentence. But, what came out sounded for all the world like he had just figured out his mother. Like all his many, many questions were answered when he looked right at me and said,

"You're drunk."

Whatcha been up to? Well, funny you should ask.

It's been busy around here. What's new, right?

Well, for starters, Spencer had a project due the week before Thanksgiving. It was the student's choice for a subject of Thanksgiving, Indians^★, or Pilgrims. But, it had to include a visual project, a written report, a cover page and an oral report. Parental help was encouraged. Because the teachers hate parents.

Also? I'm pretty sure I didn't do a project with so many components until I was in college.

But, we got it done. We're diorama-making fools around this house.

And, although I didn't get a picture of it (because I was exhausted), Spence's cover page was a Comanche Indian with yarn braids down each side of his head, tied with leather straps and a feather. And the part in his hair was even colored with white "clay." Oh, yeah. We brought it.

But, I think Shawn and I were both most proud of how many times our shy boy practiced his oral presentation until a) he knew it by heart; b) he could speak up; and c) he could look up and make eye-contact occasionally while speaking. Quite an improvement for the boy who hid his face two-inches behind his paper for the entire oral report he presented last year in first grade.

I made a Thanksgiving treat for the kids' classmates. I mean. We all knew I would, didn't we?

That's just a mini Reese's peanut butter cup upside down on a
fudge-striped cookie, stuck down and decorated with frosting.

There was Grandparents' Day at the kids' school. My mom and step-dad drove up. And, Shawn's mom had to jump through hoops to get time away from work. But, she did. So, the kids had two of their three sets of grandparents there. They got to show them around the school, and take them to a reception. And, there was a special chapel service. It was all very sweet and special to the kids.

*We found Lulu's lost splint. In the Barbie basket. Duh. Where else would it be? So now we have a spare (that the darling Occupational Therapist made us for no charge)! This is a good thing. The original splint has been lost again on no less than four other occasions for varying amounts of time on each occurrence.

Speaking of that broken finger and splint: we had a check-up last week on that little ol' bone. It's healing well, the doctor said. But, there is still a missing bit in the center of the bone that needs time to knit itself back together. One more week in the splint. She's such a responsible little trooper about it, though. She's the first one to say, "I don't have my splint on!"

There was Thanksgiving. But, in order to keep this post under a thousand words, that post will have to wait until tomorrow.

And, then there was church yesterday.

Here's what's funny. I can drive myself insane worrying about where we should go to church. We've tried going to a mega-church. But, all of our friends that are members there are a part of a "small group/Bible study" that is "closed." So, we never could figure out how to feel "plugged in" - not that the church doesn't try. They really encourage you to come to a once-a-month "Get Plugged In" meet and greet where they'll match you up with like-minded people so you can start your own "small group." Shawn and I just couldn't do it. It felt like a weird speed-dating session to make church friends. And, Lulu straight-up didn't like Sunday School there. I don't think they did anything wrong. I think it was just huge - four classes for Lulu's grade alone. We never knew who her teacher would be or who would be in her class. She would see some friends she knew... but then they would be assigned to a different room. And she told us she didn't know the songs they sang. But, when Little Miss Congeniality with the most confidence in our family is uncomfortable somewhere... it might not be the right fit for our family. Spence liked it. But, Spence liked it because he had a friend from school who was in his Sunday School class - a security blanket.

And, then my great friend Springer sent me a book by Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies. It was interesting. Clearly Springer thinks I'm a whole lot deeper than the usually fluff I read (Note to self: Send Springer a copy of The Hunger Games). But, it was worth the read for even just this one concept I took away from it. I'm sure I will paraphrase this badly, but Lamott said she was told, when praying to God for the answer to a problem, don't look for the big billboard announcing the final answer. Look at the small spotlight He's shining for you to take to the next step. Then, once there, look for the next spotlight. Just keep stepping from spotlight to spotlight until, the next thing you know, you've arrived at the solution.

So. I took a step into the spotlight yesterday.

We have other friends. (I know. Shocker.) They go to the lost-my-child-church (which we didn't know at the time of the "Lost Child" incident). They were talking about their awesome Adult Sunday school (that's open to new-comers)! They helped us figure out where it was, what time it started and were excited that we were there. And, y'all? The Director of Young Adult Ministry that teaches the class? Amazing. A-maz-ing.

We dropped Lulu off at the playroom - where there is an extensive new check-in procedure complete with sticker identification for each child. Holla! (All of our friends really do say to us, though, "Ummm. So. We hear we have you to thank for this." They don't seem so thankful, though... ;) After Sunday School, we went to ask Lulu if she wanted to leave the playroom to come sing songs with us in Big Church. She did not. She wanted to stay and keep working on crafts.

Spencer has one classmate who goes to church there that he knew of before we arrived. He wasn't there yesterday. But, lo and behold, his very best playmates from down the street go to church there! And, they did go to church yesterday, much to Spence's delight. Then, during the Children's Service portion of Big Church, Spence realized that one of his buddies from flag football goes to church there, too.

The church service was just non-liturgical enough to remind Shawn of the Bible Church in which he grew up, but just traditional enough to feel "like church" to him, too. Shawn does not like "rock bands" in church. I don't mind them. This church has a guitarist with singers. Shawn is okay with that. We both agree that the service really is a perfect mix for us.

As we drove home yesterday, Spence said, "I want this to be our church."

You know what, son? I think I do, too.

^★It seems that we can say Indian again instead of Native American. Who knew?

Thoughts on a Root Canal

It doesn't hurt while you are getting a root canal. Still. I would not suggest requesting one. That's all I'll say about that. You're welcome.

Recovery from a root canal, however? Ho.ly. #@$%! I slept 20 of the first 30 hours I was home. I looked like someone punched me in the upper lip... or like I had a terrible allergic reaction to something... or like I got some horribly ill-advised Melanie Griffith/Lisa Rinna lip procedure. And, it hurt to smile. And, talk. It just hurt. And, I kept having PTSD from the feeling of the procedure. But, now I'm saying too much. Just don't volunteer for a root canal. Promise?

On a positive note: My husband? The greatest. He was Dancing-Daddy-Monkey Extraordinaire! He entertained the kids the entire weekend - except for the few hours my in-laws took over so he could take me out for a quiet dinner. I married into the BEST. FAMILY. EVER. Let's have a competition! ... I win!

And, now. I give you... A few things you never want to hear from your Endodontist:

• [As another doctor passes in the hall] "You have got to come in here and see this case I'm working on!" [You never want to be that case.]


• Doctor: "This is like working in concrete."
  Me: "Well, huwee up. It fees gwoss!"
  Doctor: "Don't worry. It's not exactly making me hungry either."


• "I never prescribe pain meds. But, I'm going to prescribe some Hydrocodone for you."


• "We're gonna hope that heals up just fine and we don't have to go back and do surgery." [Yep. That's exactly what we're going to hope for.]

And, here's something you do want to hear when he's looking at an x-ray of his work after the procedure: "Oooh! That's so pretty!" [This man and I have very differing opinions of "pretty."]



On a another note: Lulu's custom-made splint? Lost. Already. So, I get to see about buying another one of those today. I'm really excited about that.

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

I've been installing the new update* on the iEverythings that belong to any family member that lives in the same town as I do. So, I've spent many hours staring at iTunes and iPhotos. And, I've found a few pictures for you.

That. And, I figure I owe you a few thousand words. So, I'm going to cheat and use some pictures to fill in a little of the deficit. ;)

Remember when I told you that Spencer's greatest football skill was his size?

God bless #14. It looks like Spence could eat him for a snack.

Lulu was sick a few weeks ago. I gave her The Throw-Up Bowl. (Every house has The Throw-Up Bowl, right?)

She wore it like a hat.

On the Halloween Front:

Spencer made this pumpkin at Cub Scouts:

Those are lots of metal things. Nailed into a pumpkin. Little. Boy. Heaven

One of Shawn's co-workers and his wife have had an annual pumpkin carving party for the kids of their friends and family for the past 24 years. It was at their barn. There were 200 pumpkins from which the kids could choose to carve. And donkeys. (The donkeys didn't have anything to with the party. They were just outside in a pen. But, our kids thought they were awesome.)

Such a brilliant idea for a wonderful, memory-filled, fun party.

And, that thing on the left side of Spencer's pumpkin? That's a scar. He's a tough pumpkin.

Shawn and I went back to the Old Hometown for our friends' annual Halloween Party this weekend. We were ghosts. Someone took pictures of us (because I remember wondering if ghosts would smile or not). I'll post them for your viewing pleasure as soon as I get them - that is assuming we show up on the film (because we were ghosts and all...).

Priscilla came up and spent the night with the kids while Shawn and I went down for the Halloween party. She needed a make-up visit. Since Spence is such a big kid now that he just has slumber parties instead of "party parties," she kinda got cheated out of one of her customary visits with the kids. But, they made up for lost time. There was Toys R Us and McDonalds involved in the 24 hours they were together!

Those are the highlights from around here. We're gearing up for a cooooooold front to come through here on Wednesday and Thursday. And, since I just blogged about the weather, I'm going to wrap up this post.

'Til next time.

*The new iPhone/iPad update?! So super cool! All these advances in Smart Phones and Tablets make me feel like a Jetson!

I'm OK! I'm OK! I'm OK!

Wow. You people really know how to make a girl feel loved. I have been so touched by all of the "are you ok?"s and "I miss you"s and "just checking on you"s and "thinking of you"s and "keep blogging"s.

I swear I'm okay! To be quite honest, I needed a break. I was starting to feel like this:

I wasn't quite sure who I was blogging for. Me? Or random people on the internet from whom I was hoping to get validation? But, y'all reminded me. I have real, live family and friends out there who like to keep up with us this way. And, if you don't like to hear what I say (or if I remind you of the dude in the picture); you can stop reading.

But, now, because of you, this blogging feels more like connecting with people I really know (or "virtually" know) and less like a job for which I don't getting paid. So. Thanks.

Now. To catch up. Spence has been playing flag football. He can't run very fast. Or catch the ball. But. The boy is huge. He plugs holes nicely. Therefore, he is one of the best players on the team. :)

We still have season tickets to the Texas Tech home football games. We've driven two hours there and back for all the home games this season - because evidently we're oddly fanatic like that. Who knew? We took the kids to a game. Lulu h.a.t.e.d. it. We had to wake her early and abruptly from her nap to get there... and it went downhill from there. It finally culminating in her crashing head first into a chair so hard that she had an instantaneous goose egg on her forehead. We allowed her to go home then. I don't think she's too crazy about the idea of any more football games - no matter how cute she looked in her cheerleading uniform.

Also, we finally wrapped up Spence's week and a half of birthday celebrating. I'm not sure how he did it. But, the boy just kept the festivities going! He had football practice on his official birthday. So, that day I just brought a cookie cake to school and cookies to practice. Then he wanted to take his Aggie G'Pa to the A&M v. Tech game in Lubbock so he could mock him the whole time (that plan didn't work out too well). While in Lubbock, his Nanny treated him to a birthday dinner (with cake). Then, we were finally able to get together here at home with G'Ma & G'Pa for a family birthday dinner (with cake) a week after his real birthday. And, this Friday he had some boys over for a birthday slumber party (with cake). We should all take lessons from Spencer about celebrating birthdays.

FYI - Shawn and I kept six 7- and 8-year-old boys alive for 15 hours and even got them 7 1/2 hours of sleep. We shall count ourselves victorious slumber-partiers.

So. That's about it. I'm glad to say, I'm glad to be back. Hope you're glad to see me. (And, contrary to what I threatened my friend Brandon, I won't hold this post hostage until I get at least 50 people to tell me how much they love my blog. ;)

See you soon. (As long as it doesn't feel like a not-for-profit-job.)

So much going on and so little desire to type...

We went back to the old hometown for a wedding this weekend. While there, we saw some of my friends who were visiting from out of town. When we were together, we may have scared a few... offended most... but we had a great time. (And, FYI, unless, "I'll just have a cheeseburger instead of a Navajo" doesn't make you spit out your drink with laughter, you just might not "get" us.)

The kids spent Friday and Saturday night with Nanny and Pop (my mom and step-dad). Nanny and Pop live on a lake. You might not think a drought is a "good" thing. But, when it makes the lake drop so low that there's a "beach" at Nanny and Pop's backyard... well... my kids are going to vote "drought" every time! Granted, you have to use a ladder to get down to the beach from the dock. Uh huh. That low.

But, the real joy? A Slip and Slide. Laid out on a downhill slope. Hours, people. Lulu and Spence slid on that thing for hours. Do you remember when it was fun to hurl your body at the ground and see how far you would slide? No. Me either. Thank goodness it's clearly marked "For Children Only. Not for Adult Use." Someone (Pop) would have been coerced down that thing for sure. What an embarrassing injury to have to explain to the orthopedic surgeon: "Well. You see. I was on a Slip and Slide..."

We came home and our cousin David is back in town for a visit. (Someone said the last time I talked about "Cousin David" that it reminded her of Cousin Oliver from the Brady Bunch. Now I can't say it anymore without thinking it! Get out of my head, "Sparkling.") I spent four and a half hours with all the kids at the swimming pool today trying to wear them out sufficiently so G'Ma and G'Pa could have them all spend the night at their house while Shawn and I go to an event tonight. I don't know if it worked, but I'm tired and sunburned.

That. And, I'm still waking up at 4:45 to go to 5:30 exercise class.

That. And, the market sucks a little bit right now. Have you heard? Oh. You hadn't? Yeah. Shawn's wondering why he chose this career when there are so many others out there... like post-hole digger... and human test subject.

Walking, Anyone?

You all must be tired of hearing about this. Because I know I'm tired of talking about it.

So, looooong story short(er).

I don't know if I'm a fabulous healer or if you all have been praying. (Well, I know you've been praying because you've told me. Thank you. Truly.) But...

I'm walking!

Shawn and I used all the patience we had with this "wait and see" thing. So, we went back to the old home town (remember how the surgeon in our new town was on vacation for three weeks?), took full advantage of some of our friends, and got in to see the orthopedic surgeon. (This was an even easier decision to make since our kids are on their annual lake trip with their cousins, Shawn's folks and his aunt & uncle this week. Hol-la!)

The surgeon looked at the MRI and examined me. (*ahem* I might be the jumpiest patient that ever existed. He would touch my foot. I would fly three feet in the air. He would say, "Does that hurt?!" And, I would say, "Um... no." Seriously. Even I was embarrassed for myself.) He asked about my reconstruction when I was a twelve-year-old. (Turns out that business was cutting edge twenty-five years ago. Oh. That just made me sad to think I was twelve twenty. five. years. ago.), and said this:

The tendon is where it should be and is healing well. (That was my misunderstanding. The tendon probably *snappped* around the bone when I fell... but popped back. Or who knows what popped in there. I'm not working with a paragon of body parts here. It could have been anything.) I have an unusual amount of bruising (I just like all the pretty purple, blues and greens - and I think more is better!) and I am feeling nerve pain in places where I shouldn't. (Seriously, Ali? Must you always be unique?) So, what I need to do is this-kind-of-therapy and that-kind-of-therapy, wear the air splint (that I loathe), and come back in two weeks.

We left, I confirmed with Shawn that the only precaution/babying that the doctor suggested was the splint. Things might hurt a bit, but I wasn't going to damage it further by trying to use it or put weight on it (which, to add to my own personal brand of anxiety, is exactly what caused the extensive damage when I was a kid). Shawn agreed and I spent the afternoon trying to walk on it.

It's ugly and lurching. I kind of look like Frankenstein. But, it's walking!

Now. How long to you think it will take Shawn before he realizes I've been faking this whole thing just to get out of doing laundry?

Guess Who's FIVE?!

Lulu's FIVE! That's who!

The celebration began yesterday with lunch at... Burger King. And, she wore this "Birthday Crown" that she got on one of the last days of school when she received her summer birthday blessing.

Did I mention that she's never been to Burger King? But, evidently, if you're the "Birthday Queen," you need to eat at "Burger King." Who can argue with that logic?

For dinner, she took us to one of her favorite Italian restaurants.

She brought this goofy guy:

And some of her other favorite peeps:

And, she promptly added one more soul to her list of admirers.

He sang "Happy Birthday" to her in Italian and English.

Commence Operation: Birthday Cake Eating

Cake #1

Birthday Cake #2

And, of course... presents. Here's just one of them that she opened. But, I have a feeling she'll be having this reaction to money for the rest of her life. I know I still do...

All in all, a pretty good day.

Oh, my darling birthday princess!

Who is my very favorite little girl in this whole wide world?

Medical Update(s)

My in-laws brought dinner last night. Holla! I made Lulu show Shawn and my mother-in-law the "bite" on her knee. The way they both reacted (neither of them being prone to over-reaction... EVER) made me want to flip out just a little bit. Instead. We ate dinner. :-O

But, then Shawn took Lulu to the walk-in clinic. (Can I tell you how happy Shawn is that he's the only healthy member of the family, so he gets to take care of the rest of us?) *Grossness Alert* When they got back to the exam room, the P.A. took the band-aid off of Lulu's bite. It was so swollen that her skin ruptured - like two inch-long tears. Shawn said pus just poured out of it.

Give me a minute. I have to go vomit.

Okay. I'm back. Diagnosis? She got a bug bite that got bacteria in it (aka, cellulitis). The P.A. said it's always worse on kids around their joints because they move so much and there is so much blood flow to the area to help it spread. I don't care how you describe it. I'm just gonna need you to fix it!

She's gave us some antibiotic. Lulu came home with a circle drawn around the swelling. If the swelling got bigger than the circle, we had to go back to the doc. But, this morning, it's already drastically diminished in size. Praise God!

And, here's the other awesome part. Shawn said Lulu... absolutely unfazed by any of it. That's my tough girl! He said she just wanted to hurry through it all so she could have the cookies out of the vending machine he promised her when they were done. Sweetest father/daughter team ev-ah.

                                                                                   

Now the update on me... me me me me me me me...

We have an amazing friend. A-maz-ing. (I won't call you out by name, friend, because I don't think you would like that. You're welcome.) But, people? A.maz.ing. Above and beyond. And, conveniently... a doctor. He's shown my films to I-don't-know-how-many-doctors, and talked to his friend - the ankle surgeon. The prevailing opinion...

Let it heal three weeks and see where we stand. (bu-dum-cha! Thank you, folks. I'll be here all week.) We'll see if maybe, just maybe, this little ol' tendon of mine might heal itself. (Heal, tendon! *said in my best Southern Revival Preacher voice while flat-hand-smacking my ankle - well, no... not smacking... that would hurt... how about... waving vigorously*)

Three weeks? Um. That's when the ankle doctor up here gets back from vacation. I already have an appointment scheduled with him.

Sometimes coincidences like that freak me out just a little bit.

So. That's where we are. I'm off to figure out how to live life on crutches... with a smile... because, remember? It could always be worse.

What did you do after your Apocalypse plans fell through?

So. The apocalypse was lame. In the absence of meeting the Lord, we had to filled our weekend with other activities.

Shawn went camping (like in a tent with a cot!) with a bunch of dads and about 35 kids. I'm sorry. Shall I repeat that for you? THIRTY-FIVE kids.

Elizabeth and I got our toenails done, went to the kids' museum, and ate dinner on the couch while we watched a movie. We win.

The boys came home from camping on Sunday and Spencer was covered in... wait for it... camouflage face paint. I'm sorry. Did you go camping or all lord-of-the-flies?!

Spence and Shawn took three hour naps. (Imagine! They didn't sleep well in the wilderness? That's surprising.) And then we went to a baseball game with Shawn's parents.

The game was fun, but we sat in the sun and the kids got to bed two hours past their normal bedtime.

Needless to say, my children are worn smooth out. I was really counting on them getting to catch up on their rest after Armageddon. But, I guess I'm going to have to come up with a new game plan.

So, what did you do after your Apocalypse plans fell through?

These Women Are CRAZY

Not really. But, some of them read this blog and I thought I would freak 'em out for a second. Don't worry, girls, I rarely tell everything I know. You can pay me later...

So, I'm back from hanging out with Shawn's mom and aunts, and one cousin. Y'all, I'm hard pressed to come up with any reason to let twelve human beings come out of your body. But, when I see these eight sisters in one place; and how much they love each other; and how much they laugh... well, then? Then, I can understand. The love is multiplied exponentially. And the laughter? Let's just say I really wish I could bank some of that laughter.

Now, I'm getting the family ready to go to Corpus on Friday. I've begun moving on auto-pilot. I get up in the morning and get the kids to school because there is just no other option. I buy the things we need to pack for the trip because it needs to be done.

And, I'm so tired. I'm physically tired, but I'm also more tired of family drama than I could ever begin to put into words. My ex-brother-in-law will be at my brother's wedding of about 30 guests. And, to say that situation continues to be filled with drama would be the understatement of the year.

So, Shawn and I keep putting one foot in front of the other. We smile and laugh (instead of cry). We pray (instead of worrying how it will all play out). The Johnsons will do our damnedest to do what God would have us do in every situation. We'll look at our nieces' and our kids' faces if we start to lose our focus.

And, we pray. We pray. We pray.

Stop the World. I'd Like to Get Off, Please.

I'm going to El Paso with my Mother-in-law on Friday... for business, not pleasure (as in, "getting down to business" helping to organize her late mom's house).

In order to use free airline passes, our flight leaves Friday at six forty in the morning. Since I feel fairly certain that no pilot could possibly operate a 42 ton plane that early in the morning (Seriously. People are awake, dressed and functioning that early in the morning?! How is that humanly possible?!), I should probably bid you adieu right now. There is no way we can survive taking off and landing before God is even awake.

We get back on Monday and Shawn, the kids and I turn around and leave again on Friday to go to Corpus Christi for my little brother's wedding. I'm not sure how the boy I still think of as five-years-old could possibly be getting married... But, I haven't gotten any calls from CPS about underage marriages in the family, so maybe I'm a few years off on his age.

Regardless to say, the next few weeks will be a little busy. I'm going to be singing an extra loud "Hallelujah!" come Easter Sunday when The Johnsons are back on a plane headed home to resume "life as usual."

I'll try to keep in touch. But, just in case... miss me!

God Doesn't Like Vacations

And, here's how I know: If He did, life wouldn't be so chaotic upon return. It's like you have to pay for vacation by returning to a home that has completely fallen apart in your absence.

Case in point: the last load of laundry in the dryer that has been "fluffed" about 17 times since it went in last Wednesday.

To be fair, this could have less to do with God's feelings on vacations and more to do with "getting plugged in" to our new town. (I'm suspicious that this might be the case, since I tried to make a dinner date with some of our new friends and the first available date we could find was a Thursday in three weeks.)

Whatever the reason, this is what last week looked like:

Monday and Tuesday were deceptively calm. I took lunch to Spencer for making a 100 on his spelling test while we were gone. We got Lulu's hair cut in the "bob" she has been requesting. (Shawn has been requesting it, too, to be honest. I don't think he could bare to brush one more tangle out of his precious baby girl's head. :) Shawn had business dinners so I had to get the kids to bed by myself. (I really think he just does that so I'll appreciate him more... Ass.)

Wednesday began that elusive laundry. And, then...

Thursday my mom came to town. The kids had Fine Arts Night at their school. We saw their art displayed; Spence's class sang. (Well done. So proud. Got to bed late.)

Friday I tootled on down the highway a couple of hours for a friend's birthday lunch. I got home; took Lulu for a "girls' date" (that means we went to The Discovery Center and walked around the park) while I waited to pick Spence up from a birthday party. We took the kids for pizza for Family Date Night. (Got to bed late.)

The next day (Saturday) we awoke to hit the road back down the highway for a wedding. Came home the same day. (Got to bed late.)

We woke for church on Sunday, came home for some Sunday naps (hallelujah!), worked on Spencer's Flat Stanley project, and raced out the door - again - to get to my in-laws' church for a gospel quartet concert to which they had invited us (leaving the Flat Stanley supplies exploded around the floor and living room).

Last night, as we put the kids to bed (late again), stepping over piles of their toys, shoes, and clothes that hadn't made it to the laundry hamper, Shawn looked around and said, "Well, at least the upstair and the downstairs match."

Elizabeth was showing signs of wear this morning. But, I just kicked everyone out the door to work and school. Now I'm looking around at this house/mess/dump sight and wondering what it takes to get declared a Disaster Zone - I'm not so much interested in the federal funding as I am in the volunteer labor and National Guard forces.

Oh well, I guess I better get started. I need to go fluff the laundry in the dryer one more time.

Spring Break Run-Down

Sunday: Shawn and I braved the zoo with the kids and Cousin David. Tempted to leave children with animals. Or even trade. At least a monkey wouldn't have to be bathed as often.

Monday: Sent kids with G'Pa and Uncle Phil to "check the cows"* and lunch at McDonald's. Shawn's aunt and uncle were in town visiting their daughter and her family. Everyone came over for dinner. A grand time was had by all. And they cleaned the kitchen.

Tuesday: Sent kids with G'Pa and Uncle Phil to "check the cows" and lunch at Chick-fil-a.

Wednesday: G'Pa boycotted taking all three kids to check the cows and lunch. Wuss. But, they did take the kids for a slumber party at their house. Cutting some slack. Especially since G'Pa made me laugh out loud when he returned the kids while announcing that he "has become [his] mother."

Thursday: G'Ma and I took the kids to the Discovery Center to see mechanical dinosaurs and a myriad of all things wonderful for children to climb on and explore. Discussed with G'Ma that the reason these children are so loud when placed in the same vicinity must be because they are Johnsons. (Note: She and I just married Johnsons; that's why we're so sweet and demure.) Now the slumber party is at our house. Fed them pizza, took them on a walk around the block, bathed them and bedded them by 7:30.

My work here is done.

On tap:

Friday: Museum visit and farewell dinner for David.

Saturday: Celebrate my birthday with the kids and in-laws because a) Duh. Why wouldn't I celebrate my birthday as many times as possible? And b) the kids would be mad if a birthday passed and they didn't get to partake in cake.

Sunday: Church. Sing praises to God that school will resume the next day.**

*That's not a euphemism; there really are cows. But, it sounds like a euphemism, doesn't it?

**It really hasn't been that bad. It just makes a better story if I complain. Don't you think?

Add'l note: We "won" the drawing to bring home the 1st grade class hamster over Spring Break. We haven't killed him yet! Holla!

Happy Birthday to Me...

...Happy Birthday to Me! Happy Birthday dear Meeeee-eeee! Happy Birthday to Me!

My family is treating me like a queen... Well, unless the kids are acting like Spring Break-addled savages.

But, Lulu did dress like a "Birthday Sister" for me today:

This is what Sisters wear when there is a birthday. Didn't you know?

There's not much to report around here except that two semesters of college Spanish will, evidently, get you through Lesson 4 of Disk 1 (out of three!) on Rosetta Stone. Awesome. And, I'm pretty sure the Spanish-speaking housekeeper is getting nervous listening to me yell, "Las bicicletas son amarillas!" at the computer.

Also, Cousin David is visiting from Kansas. He's staying with Shawn's parents. But, I've somehow managed the coup of sending both of my children with G'Pa, as well, the past couple of mornings! And, tonight all three kids are going to have a slumber party at G'Pa and G'Ma's house so Shawn can take me out for a Birthday Dinner. Have I mentioned how much I love my in-laws?

I should probably appreciate them now, though. I'm pretty sure they'll be dead by the morning. These three kids are a lot to handle all at once. Their rowdiness grows exponentially when placed in the same room together.

And, there is a better than average chance that I signed up to host that slumber party tomorrow night. I'm getting dumb in my old age.

Anyway. Happy Birthday to Meeeee!

Living a Little More Erma Bombeck

Alright. Some of the comments to yesterday's post made me think of "The Rest of the Story." Here are the annotations.

Yes. As Amy noticed, I served Sloppy Joes to the guests in my house. But, you know what? I was having an Erma-Bombeck-don't-wait-for-the-carpets-to-be-clean moment. I was making Joes. We had plenty. We called up the folks. And, I gotta say, people probably enjoyed it a lot more than if I was running around like a maniac, stressing over whether the coq au vin* was just perfect.

Also, as Danny wondered (and for those of you who know me or have been reading this blog very long), you might be surprised to know that I did not flip my OCD, who-left-the-dinosaur-at-the-table lid when this occurred either.

Shut up. Get off the floor. Close your mouth before you swallow a fly. May I proceed?

As a matter of fact, I was so zen about the whole situation that I got up off my a$$, set down the (unspilled!) fruit bowl, marveled that the Sloppy Joe bowl (half-way across the room!) hadn't broken, surveyed the mess and said, "That'll keep. Let's have dessert." Then we all ate cake.

As I said, I like to believe in moments like this that I'm living "Erma Bombeck-esque." So, here. For a reminder to us all:

If I Had My Life to Live Over

by Erma Bombeck

If I had my life to live over, I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television - and more while watching life.

I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."

There would have been more "I love you's"... More "I'm sorrys"...

But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute... look at it and really see it... live it... and never give it back.

Here's to having a lot more of these moments (less the Sloppy Joe).

*I don't even know what coq au vin is. But, it sounds fancy. Doesn't it?

What Would It Look Like If A Man Made of Sloppy Joe Threw Up All Over Your House... And Then Exploded?

I held a serving bowl of fruit salad in one hand and a serving bowl of Sloppy Joe meat in the other. Now, when I tripped backward over the three-foot-tall mechanical dinosaur, which bowl do you think I would throw like a frisbee in a 135° arc across the house? Do you think it would be the bowl with twenty pieces of easily-fetched fruit? Or do you think it would be the bowl that would make the couch, floor, counters, refrigerator, trashcan (the list goes on and on...) look like they had been privy to a grisly murder?

You know the answer here, right?

Luckily, my in-laws were over for dinner that night (all the more people-to-treat-to-manual-labor-at-your-house-when-you-claim-they-are-"guests" the better, I say). So, everyone grabbed a Clorox wipe/paper towel/mop and got to cleaning. We were pretty effective (and disturbingly sticky) by the time it was all said and done.

The episode was slowly becoming nothing but a nightmarish charming anecdote.

Until.

Today. I threw my head back to take the last drink out of my can of Coke Zero and what should I see?

On the ceiling.*

I feel like MacBeth's wife. "Out damned spot! Out, I say!"

*I tried to take a picture for your viewing pleasure. But, evidently you need specialized CSI equipment for sloppy joe to appear visible on film. Maybe some sloppy joe luminol, too.

I wanted to come up with another song to get stuck in your head for today's post title. But, I couldn't think of one. So I'll just say this: "I Got You Babe." You're Welcome.

My sister called to check on me. Big sisters will never listen. I kicked her in the crotch.

After I got off the phone with her, Shawn said, "What was that?" (Um. Honey? You don't read my blog?! WTH?!)

I told him, "I wrote a 'wah, wah, wah' blog post yesterday."

And, truly. That's what it was. I just needed to feel sorry for myself for a minute, get it out of my system and move on. Pity, Party of One?

Thanks for listening. Thanks for not making me feel like a doofus for "sharing." You guys really are the greatest.

I feel much better today.

Also, after the post the following happened:

• Shawn found us a babysitter* so I could go to the Book Club of which I had counted myself out. (Probably the origin of my whining yesterday, truth be told. Shawn had an event. My in-laws were snowed in**. I was going to miss the first "girl thing" I had been looking forward to for a month.) But, I got to go! And, talk to grown-ups! And, there were cookies!
• Shawn and I got an Evite to a cocktail hour at a church we visited. (Love the churches that throw happy hours!) I'm not even sure we can go. But we got invited!
• I went to Elizabeth's Valentine's Party at school. I was reminded. There will be opportunities to be around other people. (And, sometimes, those opportunities are class parties. With loud children everywhere. And I wonder why I thought solitude was such a bad thing... I jest... Kinda.)

Like I knew all along. It will happen. It just takes time. I have to be patient.

Have I mentioned I'm not very good at "patient"?

But, thanks again for thinking of me. Thanks for not worrying about me (out loud). If you all are examples of the friends that are out there waiting for me, I have amazing things ahead of me, indeed. 

Today is a much brighter day.

*Awesome girl. She came even though I called her at the last minute. She drove in snow and ice**. She got stuck in a snowbank at the edge of our steep driveway when she arrived; she threw open her door and said, "I think I'll park here!" Both kids woke up this morning and told us at separate times how much they liked her and that "she was funny!" (I think she read their bedtime stories with funny voices. A Johnson favorite, evidently.)

**Have I mentioned that there's about six inches of ice covering everything around here? Have I mentioned that Wednesday morning, after this blew in, it felt like NEGATIVE 26 degrees outside? I'm not sure why I'm whining about meeting people. I should probably be more concerned with The End of Times!

I'm Thankful for...

... a houseful of family. A houseful of family that you like so much, you're not dying for them to leave by the time they pull out of your driveway. As a matter of fact, you're a little sad to see them go (not just because they're awesome and fun, but because they cook and do dishes, too). *sigh* I miss them already. Even though they are so entertaining, they make it impossible to find the time to blog.

And, are you ready to hate me? These are my in-laws. I have good in-laws.

Here's the break-down:

• There were seventeen of us.
• Two under two.
• Three between the ages of four and seven.
• One teen.
• Seven of us that are older than twenty, but don't think we are. (There should have been eight; but, Shawn's cousin was called away to Beijing at the last minute. Wha?! Do they not know Thanksgiving was the day the pilgrims and Indians feasted in the new world?!)
• And, four matriarchs/patriarchs (That's so much more politically correct than calling them "the old people." They don't like that.)

That batch was comprised of Shawn's brother's family, Shawn's parents, Shawn's aunt and uncle (his mom's sister), their son's family (Their son was the one in Beijing. Did I already say, "Wha?! Come on, Beijing! It's Thanksgiving!"?), their daughter and her boyfriend. 

Shew! That hurt my brain.

Are you ready for more?

My step-sisters and their families - two husbands and five children (Did I just make them sound like an episode of Sister Wives? They're not. They're two separate families. I promise.), came to town to visit my mom and step-dad for the holiday. So they all came to our house for Thanksgiving, too.

That brought the grand total, sitting and eating at our house to....

Drum roll, please...

TWENTY-EIGHT PEOPLE.

And, it was fun! And, no one threw pie. Or hid in the bathroom and cried. Or shanked anyone. Seriously.

Although, my brother-in-law did send a couple of kids off to the playroom with their pie... on Wedgwood china. I might have almost shanked him...

Surely it won't be as bad as "Big Daddy" or "Three Men and A Baby"

I'm going to see my sister and nieces this weekend. To say I'm running around like a chicken with my head cut off would be an understatement. I'm trying to get myself together for a 7am flight in the morning, but I'm trying to leave the house and children in a state that won't cause Shawn's head to explode. Although he is being so sweet and supportive of this last minute trip, I want to make sure he's not so stressed out while I'm away that there's never a next time.

He'll be fine. He's a whiz at this Dad thing. It's just that we've never done this before. He's never been a single parent for more than an evening.

And, my early flight means he'll have to get the kids out the door to school on his own - and The Princess has hair that she insists isn't "done" unless it's in two french braids. :-/ I've already begun the propaganda that Daddy can just put it in one ponytail and that will be beautiful, too. I'm afraid that one ponytail will take Shawn roughly 30 minutes to an hour to complete.

And, yes. That is my biggest fear of leaving town. I would say that my kids have a pretty awesome dad. 

But, anyway, if you're one of my friends in real life, could you please take a picture of Elizabeth at school tomorrow so I can see the results of his labor?! For that matter, take a picture of both of my children - let's see if they even have on pants. (I kid! Kinda. ;)

Shawn's Saturday looks like this, though:

• 10am group violin lesson with Spence (parent attendance required)
• 1pm basketball practice (this also happens to be team picture day - so he'll have to remember to turn in an order form and check). Oh, did I mention our coach is going to be out of town so he asked Shawn and a couple of other dads to substitute?! (Is it mean that I'm about to start laughing?)
• Somewhere along the way, he needs to get the deposit for Spence's birthday party delivered.
• And, his parents and aunt & uncle are coming to town (this will actually be his saving grace as I have no doubt he will turn over all childcare duties to his mom and aunt the moment they walk in the door...)

Don't feel too sorry for him and that Saturday from hell. He has the babysitter lined up to take my place while I'm away (ummm... one minute while I REPHRASE THAT). Priscilla is going to fetch my car from the airport, pick the kids up at school, watch them Friday night while Shawn goes to some parties, watch Lulu on Saturday during violin and basketball and watch both kids Sunday night while Shawn picks me up from the airport and we go to a friend's party... (come to think of it, when I write it all out, maybe he should replace me with Pricilla...)

I was considerate enough to schedule the kids flu vaccinations for next weekend instead of 8am this Saturday morning, as was my original intention. I give and give.

My sister's wireless at her house hates me, so I probably won't check in tomorrow. We'll catch up on Monday (hopefully, with pictures of Lulu's hair)!