Here a potty, there a potty, everywhere a potty, potty

When we got to the restaurant last night, Jenny informed me she was wet. She's been really good about using the potty at home, and even managed to go at my friend's house when the friend watched her for three hours so I could take Fritz to the doctor. Luckily, I had put her in rubber pants and had a spare set in the car.

I told her, "Jenny, if you have to go potty, tell me. I will take you to the potty, even in the restaurant."

She responded in the most incredulous tone, "They have potty's here?"

I already know what's up next: the Grand Potty Tour, whereby newly trained toddler must confirm in every public place exactly where the potty is and if it works just like the one at home.

Just count to ten ten times

Katie: Mommy, may I have some milk?

Me: Just a minute, honey.

Katie: (on the verge of crying) But I'm thirsty, Mommy!

Me: You can wait a minute.

Katie: (with scrunched up face and tremoring voice) Noooo, Mommy, a minute is toooo loooong.

Me: Katie, I just want to finish this. Count to one hundred, and I'll be done.

Katie: (almost wailing) But I don't know how to count to one hundred!

Oh, yeah.

Low-key birthday

Today is my wonderful husband's birthday. Unfortunately for him, I am not at all on the ball, and I have nothing special planned for him. Of course, if I did, I could not post it here because he has figured out how to access my blog while at work and now reads it (if he has the chance).

Happy birthday, honey.

I guess we're switching roles this year. He did a great job orchestrating a fantastic birthday for me this past April. In return, I've ordered some things for him, but I waited until, oh, yesterday, thereby guaranteeing their late arrival. I do have one small thing for him, but I don't even have a card.

We were given four free tickets to the Washington Nationals game tonight. Bill plans to take the older three kids. This requires me to drive the kids into Arlington at least, because there is no way Bill can make it home and back into DC by game time. Fritz had an afternoon appointment at Walter Reed, and I thought we could go out to dinner after that and before the game. But the surgeon's office just called and rescheduled the appointment for next Tuesday at 9 AM (not only will THAT be a fun rush-hour commute, but I guess I'll start school on WEDNESDAY instead). So, we'll just meet Bill at a restaurant in Arlington and see if the game gets rained out.

Not even a special home cooked meal for my honey. I'm slippin'.

But I was flipping through The Fanny Farmer Baking Book looking for a special dessert to make, and I noticed a meringue pie crust. I couldn't find any subsequent recipes that actually used this crust, and I'm really disappointed, because it sounds yummy. Anybody ever heard of or used this kind of pie crust? I'll find an excuse to bake if the recipe is a good one.

Well, off to shop for groceries. Special dessert must be kept a secret for now. But I'm salivating already.

Choose your own version

If you are in your thirties (or close to it), you may recall the choose-your-own adventure books. I loved those books. Today, I'm offering a choose-your-own version of my life.

Yesterday, Fritz had a noon appointment at Walter Reed to see how his mouth was doing. His surgeon had told me that he would not be there, but he hoped the results of the biopsy would be done by then. A nurse had told me the results would take ten days, so, excusing any doctors who may be reading this (ahem...Catholic Mom), I didn't really expect to have any definite answers at his check-up.

Nonetheless, I was extremely anxious about taking him. I honestly did not want to go. The desire to figuratively crawl back into bed and bury my head under the covers was barely checked by that logical part of me that knows such actions are pointless. Cysts in the mouth do not go away all by themselves. Pretending that there was no problem wasn't going to make it all better.

My friend watched the middle three kids while Fritz, Pete and I went for a ride. Walter Reed is about 27 miles from my house, but half those miles are through the city streets of DC with traffic lights and pedestrians. On good days/times, the drive takes about 50 minutes. The agony of this commute just heightened my nervous mood.

We got there and tried to find a spot in the parking deck.

Here's where you choose:

If you are an atheist or an agonostic, go here.

If you believe in a Higher Power, but don't really think that this HP has much to do with our daily lives, go here.

If you believe in an all-powerful Creator who holds you in the palm of His hand, feels the suppressed sob within your sorrowful chest, knows how much salt is in the tear you wipe from your eye, and loves you with an everlasting love, go here.

Note: all these versions tell the same basic story. There's just more of "me" in each successive link.

The Dog Sniff

Now that I own a dog, I am noticing just how similar dogs and humans are. It's not so much how human-like dogs are, rather how pack-like we are.

Take the dog-sniff as an example.

Dogs sniff each other to get an idea if the other dog is a friend or foe. It's kind of a hey-nice-to-meetcha-do-ya-bite thing. We do the same thing, but in a more sophisticated fashion.

On Saturday, I walked over to a new neighbor's house to invite her to a back-to-homeschool ice cream social at my house next weekend. We had communicated via email, but had not met in person. She lives right around the corner from me, and I was eager to meet her since her younger daughter is about the same age as Katie (and 5 - 6 year old girls are rare in this neighborhood). She invited me (and my 3 youngest children) in for a visit.

This is why it takes me an hour to check my mail at the mailbox three blocks away.

So we sat and chit-chatted for about 5 minutes. Has she started school yet? Did she get directions to the local Target? Isn't it nice how close the commissary is?

And then she threw out an acronym to which I responded with a blank stare. She then identified the group as the Protestant Women's group found on most military installations. I then said, "Oh, yes, I know what you're talking about," in that vague way that indicated I know about that group to which I do not belong.

And my first thought was, "Hey! I just got sniffed!"

Then I thought, "Great, now she thinks I'm a godless barbarian."

Then I thought, "I should explain that I'm Catholic."

Then I thought, "Hmmm...but then she'll know I'm a godless barbarian."

Then I thought, "This silent debate in my mind has taken way too long. Oh, well. So what if she thinks I'll be Left Behind..."

There was a bit of a restless silence, and then we talked about something mundane like school cirriculums, and I called the girls, and we departed for another homeschooler's house.

I wonder if she'll let her daughter play with my daughter, seeing as we're not in the same pack?

Today's readings

The First Reading
Jos 24:1-2a, 15-17, 18b

Joshua gathered together all the tribes of Israel at Shechem, summoning their elders, their leaders, their judges, and their officers. When they stood in ranks before God, Joshua addressed all the people: “If it does not please you to serve the LORD, decide today whom you will serve, the gods your fathers served beyond the River or the gods of the Amorites in whose country you are now dwelling. As for me and my household, we will serve the LORD.”

But the people answered, “Far be it from us to forsake the LORD for the service of other gods. For it was the LORD, our God, who brought us and our fathers up out of the land of Egypt, out of a state of slavery. He performed those great miracles before our very eyes and protected us along our entire journey and among the peoples through whom we passed. Therefore we also will serve the LORD, for he is our God.”


I had no faith. I prayed for faith. I was given an unshakeable faith.

I was frustrated and impatient with life, my husband and my children. I prayed for patience. And now somehow I manage to remain calm in the midst of insanity most of the time.

God has blessed me with a devoted husband, five healthy children, and a comfortable life beyond what I deserve. I have seen miracles worked before my eyes, from my "miracle baby" born with a true knot in his embilical cord to the closing of the hole in another son's heart.

What other god could I serve? Like Joshua and the Israelites, I must serve the Lord, for He is my God.



The Gospel
Jn 6:60-69

Many of Jesus’ disciples who were listening said, “This saying is hard; who can accept it?” Since Jesus knew that his disciples were murmuring about this, he said to them, “Does this shock you? What if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? It is the spirit that gives life, while the flesh is of no avail. The words I have spoken to you are Spirit and life. But there are some of you who do not believe.” Jesus knew from the beginning the ones who would not believe and the one who would betray him. And he said, “For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted him by my Father.”

As a result of this,many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him. Jesus then said to the Twelve, “Do you also want to leave?” Simon Peter answered him, “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.”


I praise the Father for answering my prayer and drawing me to Him. Jesus' words are hard, but, like Simon Peter, I ask myself where else can I go? his words are Spirit and life. The choice is clear.


Second Reading
Eph 5:21-32 or 5:2a, 25-32

Brothers and sisters: Be subordinate to one another out of reverence for Christ. Wives should be subordinate to their husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is head of his wife just as Christ is head of the church, he himself the savior of the body. As the church is subordinate to Christ, so wives should be subordinate to their husbands in everything. Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ loved the church and handed himself over for her to sanctify her, cleansing her by the bath of water with the word, that he might present to himself the church in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. So also husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. For no one hates his own flesh but rather nourishes and cherishes it, even as Christ does the church, because we are members of his body. For this reason a man shall leave his father and his mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh. This is a great mystery, but I speak in reference to Christ and the church.


It was much easier to obey the Lord's order to subordinate myself to my husband once I had committed to serving Him. What allegience would that be if I could choose the times and places that suited me to serving Him? It was also much easier for me to subordinate myself when I trusted my husband to love me and cherish me and always seek what was best for me.

Like Joshua, Moses asked the Israelites to make a choice: life or death? I, too, choose life!

How to win a race - toddler style

I had to attend a meeting on Thursday afternoon for the homeschool group. This time, my kids weren't the only little ones. At first I was a bit concerned that it was going to be another meeting with barely contained chaos. Pete is at that age where shrieking loudly for no reason at all is loads of fun. And Jenny just dances and plays around him getting him wound up.

Then I noticed the older, "quieter" boys were having a conversation in a secret burp language.

Fortunately, the meeting was short and the kids managed to keep the noise down to a rumble. And I got a chance to remark at just how smart a baby can be.

Jenny and another friend were racing from one wall to another. Back and forth. Back and forth. Pete thought this was great. He waddled along behind the girls and imitated the way they threw their bodies on the wall. Then, they took off for the other side and left him in the dust. He quickly realized that they would race to the other side, throw their bodies on that wall and then race back to where he was.

So he stopped, turned, went back to the wall, and threw his body up against it. And then he waited, watching over his shoulder and laughing at his own cleverness. Soon, the girls returned to his wall and joined him. They thought he was pretty funny too, and declared him the "winner."

If you ain't cheatin', you ain't trying.

Five People in Five Categories Meme

I was tagged by SFO Mom days ago.

"If you could meet and have a deep conversation with any five people on earth, living or dead, from any time period, who would they be?" (Explaining why is optional.)

Name five people from each of the following categories: Saints, Those in the Process of Being Canonized, Heroes from your native country, Authors/Writers, celebrities.

Five Saints:

1. St. Therese of Lisieux
2. St. Michael the Archangel
3. St. Augustine
4. St. William of Gellone
5. The Blessed Mother

Those in the Process of Being Canonized:

1. Pope John Paul II
2. Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta
3. Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen
4. Blessed Charles de Foucauld
5. Pope Pius XII

Five U.S. Heroes:

1. Patrick Henry
2. George Mason
3. Thomas Jefferson
4. Benjamin Franklin
5. George Washington

(I'm in a Revolutionary War rut, I admit.)

Five Authors/Writers:

1. Robert Louis Stevenson
2. Jane Austin
3. William Shakespeare
4. William Safire
5. Danielle Bean !!

Five Celebrities:

1. Bill Cosby
2. Anne Rice
3. Dr. Laura Schlessinger
4. Michelle Malkin
5. Bill O'Reilly

Tag Five People:

1. Amy at Raising Angels
2. Suzanne at Raising Saints
3. Catholic Mom
4. Melissa
5. The Kitchen Madonna

Poll: How many outfits?

One thing about having a bunch of kids: lots of people feel inspired to be charitable.

I get offers for free babysitting all the time because people think I need a break.

People bring me food, especially for the kids. Snacks, treats, juice boxes. I wonder if they think my kids aren't spoiled enough.

And I get bags and bags of gently used clothing. My sister, in witnessing mysterious bags appearing at my front door as if by magic, suggested I get one of those metal drop-off bins. Sometimes I feel I need one!

I'm not complaining. I know how blessed I am. Last winter was the first time I ever bought a winter coat for one of my kids. Usually, if my child needed a winter coat, I would just start asking around. Winter coats were one item that my group of friends and I shared. Whenever one of my kids got a "new" coat, we would also get a litany of the previous owners. I loved it, and felt like we were already participating in the communion of saints! Thank goodness my kids were (and still are) too young to care that it wasn't brand new.

Right now, I am waist-deep in clothes. I'm trying to inventory the kids' fall/winter wardrobes. I'm getting rid of worn, ripped, stained or ugly outfits. I'm sorting the sizes into piles and separating those piles into warm vs. cool seasons. And soon I'll begin deciding if each kid has enough shirts, pants, sweaters, and pajamas. This is quite a chore for one kid...and then I have to multiply by 5!

But because of the bags and bags of donations, I rarely have a problem with not enough clothes. Usually I have a problem with too much clothing. And I really don't want it all. Even if I had the room, even if every outfit was adorable, comfortable and hardy, even if I could go a week without doing laundry (yeah, right), even then...I think it is greedy to hoard all these outfits when there other children who could be wearing them. Even with baby clothes I've learned that I don't need to save every onesie and every set of pajamas for future babies...because I always get more clothes anyway.

So I reduce, reuse and recycle and share the love. And the question of the week, as I sort and filter, is how many outfits does a child need? Not uniforms for school, not chinos or dresses for church. Just everyday clothes, going out to play clothes, rainy day read-a-book clothes.

I asked my husband and he said 6 outfits. I think, given the option, I would do more so that we could go away for a week and come home to at least one or two clean outfits. A friend suggested 10 outfits...or at least 10 shirts and maybe fewer pants. That sounds a bit more reasonable.

I want your opinion. Tell me what you think! How many outfits do you plan for your kids?

Old Fogie Dating

As part of our doggie adoption agreement, Bill and I need to take Greta to obedience school. German Shepherds need discipline, they said. Their owners need discipline too, they implied. This is fine with me. She's a pretty good dog anyway, and I can see how being able to communicate to her what we want and having her do it will make us all happy.

Besides, maybe I'll pick up a few tricks I can use on the kids.

They recommended a school, and we signed her up beginning this Saturday. I asked the woman: who should take her? - Bill or I? I spend more time with her than he does, but she listens to me better than she listens to him. The woman suggested that we both attend the first class, if possible, so we could be on the same page when bringing the training home. If the same person could bring her to the next two classes, by class 4 it wouldn't matter who brought her.

For Bill and I to go together, we obviously need a babysitter. And I know for sure that Bill will be out of town for one of the classes, so I need a babysitter for that day too. I called one of the girls in the neighborhood. She's very sweet and the oldest of 5, including a baby sister who is only a few months older than Pete. If anybody has good techniques for distracting young toddlers who are weepy for mommy, she'd be the one.

I left a message asking if she could babysit specifically for the 2 days I needed her, but decided spur-of-the-moment to ask if she could just do every week for the 6 weeks. This would give Bill and I two to three hours every Saturday morning with no children (except for that 65 pound baby). Yes, yes, 45 minutes to an hour will be spent in travel and 1 to 1 1/2 hours will be spent in class. That's ok.

The babysitter phoned back and agreed to come, so YIPPEE! She's probably thrilled to have a "regular" gig, and we're thrilled to have a regular "date."

Maybe we'll include a trip to Dunkin Donuts to add a touch of romance...

Happy Birthday, Katie!

Dear Katie,

I'm sorry we couldn't be there to give you a good morning birthday hug. I'm so glad we were able to have pizza and cake for lunch and celebrate you turning 5! You are such a big girl now. You had to share the limelight today as your brothers got so much attention, but don't worry. You get plenty of attention the other 364 days of the year too! This will be an exciting year and I can't wait to see you blossom.

Happy birthday, sweetheart!

P.S. I didn't make this beautiful cake, but I wish I did. This was a gift to you from my friend. Maybe someday, when I'm done raising you and your siblings, I'll learn how to do it so I can spoil your children, ok?

The Lowdown

All is well...all is well. Well, all is as well as well can be!

First of all, apparently Billy felt left out of the pity party. On Sunday evening he and the neighborhood boys (including Fritz) were doing what boys do, which is usually not much good if there are no adults around. In this particular instance, they all thought throwing dirt and rocks was a good idea. Everybody was having a blast until one rock hit Billy in the side of the noggin and, like most facial and head wounds, bled like mad. He was hurting pretty badly until he saw all the blood, and then he felt justified in wailing and screaming like he was going to die.

Callous mom that I am, I decided he needed a big bandage with lots of tape to make it look good (and to get past the hairline), but unless it had been a really really huge gash, there was no way I was going to take him to the ER. Nope. No sirree. And it really wasn't too bad. Besides, boys need a few scars. Right?

Little Pete's appointment at the orthopedist resulted in a full arm cast to limit mobility of his arm to speed in the healing of his buckle fracture of the humorus. Three weeks, another x ray and he should be good as new. He hates the cast, and it's no wonder. The thing has to weigh 2 pounds, and he only weighs 20. Imagine getting a weight that was 10% of your total body weight and adding it to your arm. If you think having a 15 pound pregnancy belly is bad, try a 15 pound bracelet!

And now for Fritz. The biopsy went well. Full results sometime next week, but for now the doc is optimistic that's it's just a cyst. He put in a stent to aid in drainage and to hopefully reduce the size of the cyst. If the cyst shrinks, the jaw bone should grow back all by itself. If this happens, then he would only need another minor procedure to remove the stent!

The doctor took out 2 of his baby teeth which were really loose and in the way. We still don't know about one or two adult teeth which are not doing too well. We'll have to wait and see if they can recover and be usable. St. Apollonia is the patron of tooth problems, and I'll be talking to her quite a bit over the next few months.

The stent will have to be in place for 6 to 9 months (maybe less because kids recover faster than adults). This is a bit awkward, and I'm glad he is homeschooled. His speech will be affected, and he'll have a lump in the front of his mouth (imagine if you stuck your tongue in front of your teeth, but off to the right a bit). He's getting to that cruel age where kids will use any excuse to be mean. He has a good bunch of friends, and being homeschooled will shield him from the random brat, and for that I am glad.

The other downside is that he is at an increased risk of fracturing his jaw. The doctor forbade sports of any kind for now. He's lucky he's allowed to ride his bike.




Here's a picture of me and my three sons with their injuries.


Now the really good news is that the doctor forbade sports of any kind. Is it wrong for me to rejoice and be glad that I'm not going to be running him around to several practices and games per week? And if Fritz can't do it, I think it's really awful to make him watch his siblings do things, so we will all avoid sports this fall...it's only right.

There'll be swingin', swayin' and music playin' and dancin' in the streets...

And now I must go to bed. I'm exhausted (all that dancing).

Porta-Jenny

The older kids were playing outside. Pete was toddling around inside. Bill was surfing the net. The dog was napping.

Ah, peaceful Sunday.

I asked Bill to keep an ear out for Pete while I retreived laundry from upstairs and rotated the loads. Pete will occasionally fall down and need assistance getting up, and I wanted to be sure that I was off the hook for about 10 minutes. And off I go.

The next thing I know, there is complete pandemonium. Katie is crying. Jenny is crying. Petey is crying. Bill is hustling around and shouting out orders and looking at me like I'm not pulling my weight in this CRISIS, FOR GOODNESS SAKE!!!!

Oh, and just then, his parents arrive as expected. Because it wouldn't be a good comedy if there wasn't an audience.

Apparently Jenny, who was naked, as usual (we are trying to potty train here), had climbed up the ladder to the swing set which leads to the monkey bars and holds up the swings. She perched herself right there on the top rung and was surveying her kingdom from on high. Katie was swinging on the swing directly beneath her.

And I guess Jenny decided that right now was a good time and place to have a bowel movement.

Yup.

She missed Katie.

I lost my balance from laughing so hard.

If you visit, be sure to watch where you step!

Another day, another doctor

Life just keeps getting more interesting.

Yesterday evening, Pete fell most of the way down our stairs. It was a "good" fall in that he didn't hit the ceramic tile at the bottom, he didn't lose consciousness, and he was able to move his arms and legs afterward. But he was crying a lot. That's a good fall.

He had already been favoring his left hand or left side (we really couldn't tell which) since Tuesday or Wednesday. He figured out how to climb onto the kitchen chairs. He didn't figure out how to climb off the kitchen chairs, though, and fell while his father and I stood 5 feet away and watched. Honestly, we were a bit amazed at his ability to climb up and were admiring the cute picture he made when he sat himself down like a big boy. So when he started to try to get down our reaction time was just.not.fast.enough.

That's my excuse at least.

Anyway, he fell down the stairs yesterday and even though he did move his left arm, it really hung limply at his side. After dinner, I gave him a small bowl of ice cream, and he attacked it with a spoon in his right hand, but he left his left arm by his side. No healthy toddler ever eats with one hand. Most healthy toddlers include both hands, arms, the entire face, neck and torso, their hair, and sometimes a foot or two.

So at 8 pm last night (bedtime), Bill and I decided that maybe we ought to get him checked out. Thank God for small mercies, the ER was empty. Within 15 minutes, the ER doc and I were discussing the unlikelihood that he had a fracture since he was so content and since he had movement.

And off we went to the torture chamber radiology.

Back to the ER, and I hear the nurses tell the doctor we're back. A few minutes later and he returns with a serious expression. He massages Pete's upper arm and asks me how he did in X Ray. Pete did happen to scream his head off, but I think that had more to do with being forced to lie on a hard table while strange people poked you and odd machines buzzed and whirled around you than with any real pain. Regardless of how he felt, the real issue is how do the X Rays look?

"Suspicious."

Meaning, that the doc isn't sure if he has a fracture or not. Looks like it. But he doesn't act like it. So the ER doc got another doc on the phone and then the ER doc says that Pete needs to go see an orthopedist on Monday.

What's this mom's reaction?

Worry? Concern? Borderline hysteria? Nausea? Deep-seated guilt?

Um, my answer was something along the lines of, "I have to take my other son to Walter Reed on Monday for a biopsy. Is there any flexibility in the orthopedist's schedule?"

Yeah, doc, my kid may have broken his arm. Too bad. I've got other things on my mind right now.

Again, the Lord is kind and merciful, and Pete's got an appointment Monday afternoon. In the meantime, we've got some heavy-duty iboprofin for his pain (he is weepy and clingy) and we need to restrict movement of the arm. The doc suggested having him wear a long-sleeve shirt and pinning his arm to his chest. This will force me to do that fall clothing swap (oh, the dreaded fall clothing swap).

The only shirt that I've found so far (other than really heavy fleece or flannel) is a size 3T and he's getting into size 2T. Pinning his arm to his chest on a shirt that is too big is not effective. Annoying, but not effective. So I took an ace bandage and wrapped it around him to help. It's working. Doesn't he look pitiful?

My guess is that the suspicious, not sure if it's a fracture injury occured when he fell off the chair. Since then, the poor kid has been falling flat on his face more often than not (off balance because he's keeping his one arm stiff?), and when he did fall, he would be unable to pick himself up and would just lie there until someone would rescue him (arm to weak to help him get up?). Pinning his arm down has actually helped him get up better - perhaps it's tucked safely beside him and not getting in the way now. And despite the awkwardness, I hope it speeds his healing.

Quotes Meme

Tagged by Sarah for this one too. Just didn't have time this morning.

Go here, to the random quotes generator, and look through the random quotes until you find FIVE that you think:

(a) reflect who you are
and/or
(b) what you believe.

The generator spit out 10 quotes at a time, and I took these five from that first result.

God must become an activity in our consciousness.
Joel S. Goldsmith

Change your thoughts and you change your world.
Norman Vincent Peale (1898-1993)

It’s better to be a company than to work for a company.
Jim Coudal, Keynote Speech, SXSW 2006

We know the truth, not only by reason, but also by the heart.
Blaise Pascal (1623-1662)

And the very first quote on the list was also the most appropriate for me right now:

Go, and never darken my towels again.
Groucho Marx (1890-1977)

Can I have that laminated to post in the bathroom?

I'm not going to double tag anybody, and lots of people are on vacation right now. If you want to do this one, leave a comment that you posted it on your blog.

Pop Tart Meme

I don't get the pop-tart thing, but whatever. Tagged by Sarah.

3 Things That Scare Me

Anything that threatens my children's health or well-being
Anything that threatens my husband's health or well-being
Heights/falling

3 People That Make Me Laugh

My husband
My kids (ok, that's 5 people, but how can I pick ONE over the others?)
My sister Barbara

3 Things I Love

Thunderstorms
The rocky coast of Maine in the winter time
A blank day on the calendar

3 Things I Hate

Whining
Stupidity
Meanness

3 Things I Don’t Understand

How cars work and my husband's obession with them
How guns work and my husband's obsession with them
Electrical circuits (you know, it's just not as as simple as V = IR)

3 Things On My Floor

Automobile magazine (not mine)
Shooting Illustrated magazine (not mine)
the dog

3 Things I’m Doing Right Now

Drinking coffee
Hurrying, because I have others things I have to do
Staring at a computer screen (duh)

3 Things I Want to Do Someday

Learn to swim (beyond the doggie paddle)
Go on a cruise
Attend a joyous function regarding each of my children as adults (ie: college graduation, wedding, ordination, promotion, Nobel Prize winner reception)

3 Things I Can Do

Cook
Teach my kids to read
Change the sheets of a bed while nursing a newborn

3 Ways to Describe My Personality

Witty (on good days)
Argumentative (on bad days)
Patient (most of the time)

3 Things I Cannot Do

Crafty things
Ice skate
Change the oil in my car

3 Things I Think You Should Listen To

Your conscience
Good music
Good advice

3 Things I Think You Should Never Listen To

Gossip
Bad music
Bad advice

3 Absolute Favorite Foods

Chocolate
Pasta
Potato salad

3 Things I’d Like to Learn More About

History
Religion
Effective parenting techniques

3 Beverages I Drink Regularly

Coffee
Diet Coke
Water

3 Shows I Watch

uh...on TV?
regularly?
Do people really do that?

3 Bloggers I Tag:

Melissa
Georgie
He Who Wears the Most Black Wins

A moment of levity

It's pretty easy to tell when I'm under stress. Instead of laughing all day long, I only smile or chuckle in snippets. Instead of a huge comedy culminating in a final chase scene involving my lunatic household, my life more closely resembles a soap opera with an occasional light-hearted moment.

My apologies for the drama.

But here are some of the more amusing moments over the last few days:

One friend tells me about a conversation she overheard at the playground. A man was loudly criticizing parents who won't get cell phones for their kids. He feels that these children will be at a technological disadvantage if they don't have them. And he, for one, would never do such an irresponsible thing to his kids.

Boy, his kids have him schnookered, eh? It's funny...I didn't have a cell phone when I was a kid, or even as an adult until recent years. In fact, I am frequently without the cell phone, or it's off, or I left it in the car. I actually have the idea that the cell phone is for my convenience, not the convenience of the world. I suppose I've been languishing with my technological disadvantage and didn't even know it. I'll try to be more aware of my own personal suffering from now on, and I'll have to think hard about getting my kids this important and difficult to figure out modern tool. After all, I'd hate for them to not get into Harvard simply because I withheld such a basic and inexpensive thing.

The friend told me about a recent movie (sorry, I can't do names of actresses or movies, I'm simply not hep enough...proof of my technological disadvantage, I guess) where two young ladies (dumb blonde types) were trying to get jobs. One is asked how fast she can type. "I don't know, but I can send five Instant Messages in one minute," she replies. That's job skills for you.

This friend also received an email from an acquaintance who ranted about why her family does not celebrate Christmas. She's not a Jehovah's Witness; I think she was an independent Bible-thumping type. Of course, the problem with rejecting the teachings of the Church (any church, I suppose, but dissent from the Church founded by Christ in particular) and leaning on a Bible-alone personal interpretation, is that every individual is free to create their own religion as they see fit. So, instead of one Church, you have billions. And nobody really has any authority to say what is right or wrong. We're all right!

Anyway, in case you're wondering, eternally damned Catholics under the helm of the evil Constantine invented Christmas. And since nowhere in the Bible does it ever say that anybody celebrated Christ's birth, she felt that they shouldn't either. Of course, the Bible doesn't command us to celebrate anybody's birth, nor does it command us to go to the beach for a week and have fun in the sun, but people seem to do it anyway without incurring the wrath of God.

As for December 25th, I don't think too many Catholic theologians are pretending that it is the actual date of Christ's birth. There are tons of political, practical and symbolic reasons why that date was chosen. And as for the gift-giving commercial hype...what's really funny is that it's all an American anti-Catholic phenomenon. In most Catholic countries in Europe or the Americas, all the gift-giving is associated either with December 6th (the feast of St. Nicholas who gave gifts to the poor from his own wealth) or with January 6th (the feast of the Epiphany where the Three Wise Men gave gifts to the infant King). But Protestant America rejected these Catholic holy days and shifted the focus (and hence, eventually, all the hype) to the 25th.

OK, I'm ranting now. Silly people make me do that. But it's not a rant of anger, it's one of amusement, I swear.

Moving right along, an acquaintance and I were discussing the formation of good habits. She reminded me that they say it takes 21 days to make a new habit...she says that for women it takes 28.

And the problem with sexual stereotyping is that much of it is true.

This same person also told me, "Michelle, what I like about you is that you're so real. All these other women I know never yell at their kids, they're so soft-spoken. But you, you're not like that."

{sigh}

And here, all along, I thought I had the world fooled.

Just in case...

...you think you have it bad:

Stryker brigade Soldiers sent home to Alaska to return to Iraq
By Kathleen T. Rhem
American Forces Press Service
August 15, 2006

WASHINGTON (Army News Service, Aug. 15, 2006) – Three hundred one Soldiers with an Alaska-based unit extended in Iraq will return to the combat zone to serve with their comrades in arms, Army officials announced yesterday.

A total of 378 Soldiers with the 172nd Stryker Brigade Combat Team had returned to Alaska in June and July at the end of their scheduled 12-month tour in Iraq. But before the rest of the 4,000-Soldier unit could redeploy, officials halted their return to bolster Iraqi and coalition forces in Baghdad.

Now, 301 of those Soldiers who made it back to Alaska will return to their unit within the week. The other 77 soldiers were considered essential to unit operations in Alaska or had other special circumstances. Some had already reported to mandatory schools or follow-on assignments, or had medical issues or family emergencies to deal with.

and this:

Army supports 172nd Stryker Brigade families
August 9, 2006

FORT WAINWRIGHT, Alaska (Army News Service, Aug. 9, 2006) – To help families of the 172nd Stryker Brigade Combat Team cope with Soldiers’ extended deployment in Iraq, the brigade is offering a variety of support services through Family Assistance Centers at Fort Wainwright and Fort Richardson.

The unit’s deployment was extended to meet new mission requirements July 27, just days before the scheduled redeployment of the brigade. Some families had already reserved flights and accommodations for vacations, while others were preparing permanent change of station moves.

continued:

The extension could last up to four months, although brigade commander Col. Michael Shields said their mission is event-driven and would be based solely on what’s happening on the ground, not on a timeline. About 400 Soldiers have already returned from Iraq. Those who have mission-essential skills may have to return, but Shields said that will be dealt with on a case-by-case basis.

“The commander in Iraq needed the best, most experienced unit,” said Shields. “He picked the 172nd because of their agility, their ability to turn on a dime and get the job done right no matter what the task. They are the best unit for the job.”

and this:

Heroes: 172nd Stryker BCT spouses
August 14, 2006
The following is a commentary by Kamryn Jaroszewski of the Fort Richardson Public Affairs Office.

I wrote a commentary recently about my husband’s upcoming third deployment. In that article, I referred to him as a hero.

When he read it, he zeroed in on that word and said I was wrong, that he wasn’t a hero – just another Soldier doing what he was told to do.

I explained to him my reasons for describing him a hero: because he was able to leave his family and step foot on a plane when he knew he may not come back. Because he was one of the people who volunteered to do that. Because he saw a cause bigger than him, and wanted to do his part of it. But above all, because he wanted to continue the line of military service started in his family four generations ago.

After our discussion, I asked him what his definition of hero was. He said it was someone who lost a limb – or a family member – and still stayed in the Army.

In the wake of the 172nd Stryker Brigade Combat Team’s four-month
extension, I’ve added those family members – the spouses who dried their tears and got back on the horse – to my list of heroes. I don’t know how I would have reacted to the news that I’d have to take down my welcome-home banner, and wait months more for my husband to return. But these spouses have done it with a grace that has made so many Soldiers proud of their spouses.

A hero is different for everybody. It could be the friend who baby sits so you can have an hour of quiet time, or the teacher who goes out of her way to encourage her students to excel.

Regardless of the definition, if you see a hero, please tell them so.

One thing is for sure: there aren’t enough heroes out there.

getting organized

Sometimes I'm so organized I even impress myself.

My resolution for this month was to plan my dinner meals for September, purchase what I could, pre-prep what I could, and make grocery lists for fresh ingredients needed each week. I need to go to the store one more time and spend a few more hours in the kitchen, but for the most part, I've accomplished said task. I won't pretend that it wasn't tedious, but I did keep all my scribbles and lists and perhaps next month will be easier.

However, the very last day of the month is our third annual Oktoberfest. It's my annual vanity fair; I freely admit that I'm groveling for compliments over my cooking. Last year's best ego boost was, "You made this? I thought it was catered!" And the best part is that I've selected recipes that taste good reheated, so most of the cooking is done weeks before and frozen until the day before the party. That frees me to focus on cleaning the bathrooms and shoveling toys into closets on the day of the party.

But to be true to my resolution, I needed to do some list making and shopping at the least. Fortunately, when I went through the process last year, I put it all on the computer with a shopping list sorted by category too! Now I just need to compare the list with ingredients I have on hand (like caraway seed), adjust some quantities (ran out of Sauerbraten last year), and add that list to my other one. Party planning made easy!

Now, on to cleaning off my desk. We all have our organizational limits.

A Sacramental Year

Well, I'm excited in a sad, depressing sort of way. I just got of the phone with the new pastor. Poor guy. Hasn't even had a chance to hang his rosary beads, and he's already got a mom on the phone asking about Anointing of the Sick for her child.

He agreed that a biopsy was a good reason to do the sacrament. He said he'd try to track down the oils and call me back to set up a good time.

So, Fritz will receive a sacrament that I've never received - his third sacrament this year. I think that's pretty neat.

Of course, I'd rather not feel the need for him to have it either.

Hands full for sure

Today is the last day of Bill's vacation from work. It's been great having him around, because I've been able to do things like go to the grocery store...alone. Woo hoo!

After I returned yesterday from a solitary trip shopping for many of the things I need for my September meals, my past-naptime baby greeted me with those tears of joy ("Oh, finally, somebody who can help get me to bed"), and Greta seemed happy that I was home too. I asked Bill how everything went.

Bill: I tried to take the dog for a walk with all the kids.

Me: Really? How far did you go?

Bill: Just out the garage, down the alley, and around the corner.

Me: Oh? Who was losing it?

Bill: Me!

This must be why he always seems to think I need help around the house!

Meet Greta

The newest member of our family. When they brought her out, we walked her over to a grassy area and sat down. She put her head in my lap. Bill knew then that she was the one going home with us. She's about a year old. Already housebroken. Very gentle (completely ignores Petey climbing on her, falling on her, petting her). Not jumpy. These were important traits for us.

We didn't hear her bark once until this evening. The kids were riding their bikes in the alley with the neighbors. Jenny and Pete were playing Frogger (with themselves in the starring role and the other kids as the cars). I brought Greta out and she was doing fine. But then my neighbor picked Pete up and moved him out of the way of the kids on bikes, and Greta started barking at her. I had to take Greta back into the yard. We guess she just knows her pack, and my neighbor was not part of it. She was fine later with the same neighbor, but Bill was holding the baby then. I'm sure she'll figure out friend v. foe soon.

Other than that, she's been alert, eager to please and pretty laid back. But definitely full of energy. I'm sure she'll fit right in.

Michelle's Fruit Salad

1 honeydew melon
1 canteloupe melon
1 package of strawberries
1 (or 2) packages of blueberries
1/2 bunch of red, seedless grapes
1 can pineapple chunks in their own juice

Cut melons in half. Remove seeds and pulp. Using a spoon or melon baller (not a knife), remove the fruit from the skin and place in a large mixing bowl. In the meantime, have your helpers (I've got some to spare if you need any) check blueberries for stems and pluck grapes and add them to the bowl. Remove stems from strawberries, quarter, and add to mix. Helpers can mangle a few strawberries as well. Drain pineapple juice into a glass and give to your husband to drink. Add chunks to bowl and have helpers take turns mixing. Cover and refrigerate.

To serve, place a generous helping in a bowl. Feed all the blueberries and some strawberries and grapes to the baby. Give all the rest of the grapes to the toddler. (Do not attempt to give these children their own bowls of fruit. YOUR bowl of fruit tastes much better than THEIR bowl of fruit, and they know it.) Enjoy the melons, pineapples and some strawberries!

This and that

Right now, life is happening more quickly than I could possibly write about it.

For example, we went camping on Tuesday and only came back yesterday in time for Fritz's appointment. Some amusing things happened, as always, but I just don't have time to write about them. We visited the Luray Caverns, the kids went fishing with Dad, we loved seeing the mountain view every day. It was nice.

Oh, this one I have to remember:

It was Wednesday morning. I got up, brewed the coffee (electric coffee pot, I admit) and lit a fire. I had bacon sizzling and eggs scrambling. I was pretty proud of my acomplishments. I could hear Bill getting up, putting on his clothes. I thought he'd be impressed at what his suburbanite, soccer-mom wife had managed to do in a half hour. He came out of the tent, looked at the scene of domestic outdoor bliss unfolding before his eyes and said,

"You're still in your pajamas?"

He keeps me humble, that man.

But yes, he was really impressed. So impressed that he was speechless about all those wonderful things. Yeah, that's the ticket.

*****
Last night, a neighbor called me. Another neighbor had called her. The MPs (Military Police) were going door to door a few streets over and telling people to keep their kids inside, that they were looking for a sexual predator in the area. I called another neighbor and asked if her son (age 11) was inside or out. He was out. I relayed the info.

Later, neighbor #1 called back and said her husband had called the station and that they gave vague answers about how kids should stay in their yards and not talk to strangers, and that they weren't looking for someone in particular. But neighbor #2 ran an errand and saw a half dozens MPs at the gate near us and at another gate asked if they had caught the person. The guard at the gate said he didn't know, went and asked another person, returned and said that they hadn't heard anything on their radio. But he seemed to act as though they were looking for a particular person.

So, Bill's assignment for today is to get some answers. At issue is and always has been the security of our neighborhood which is just off Route 1 and doesn't have a fence or other barrier to indicate that it's a private road. A bit down Route 1 is a homeless shelter which multiple sex offenders have listed as their residence.

Our new neighborhood is just like two other new housing areas on post. All the backyards are surrounded by 5' tall fences which are easily climbed. Every house has a garage - some are attached (like mine), but most are detached. The other housing areas have had a serious problem with theft - and the MO has been that the thief climbs the fence and enters the garage through an unlocked door. It's very easy to be careless about an "interior" door. If your garage is detached, the theft is confined to the contents of your garage. If your garage is attached and you also left the door to your house unlocked, the theft could spread to anything in the house.

Until recently, Bill and I theorized that these thefts were likely being done by teenagers who lived on post, likely in the neighborhoods being robbed. But last week, there was an innocent article in our local paper about the K9 unit on post. It was all about the dogs and their training. In the article, it said that a dog was called in for an ongoing breaking and entering the previous week, and the dog chased the scent of the perpetrator to Route 1 which is about a mile from this neighborhood. I think a neighborhood teen would run to another part of post, not to Route 1. But that's just a guess.

I suppose any neighborhood, on or off post, is potentially dangerous or could attract bad elements. I remember a few years ago there was a rash of B&Es in the town where we lived in NJ. For several months, we followed the police blotter published in the paper to see what streets were hit and gossiped about who had the inside scoop from what cop. But the closest victim was over a mile from my home and the thief hit two or three houses a month. Here, all the victims are within a few miles of my house and the thief (or thieves) are going into 5 or 6 homes all in one night, usually every week.

Did I mention we'll be getting a dog soon? Seriously. A few weeks ago, we put in to adopt a dog from a German Shepherd rescue. We're waiting for them to tell us which dog has a good temperment for our family.


*****
And, of course, you must realize that all this focus on a "bad guy" in the neighborhood is meant to be a distraction from the huge weight on my shoulders - Fritz's biopsy. I get sick to my stomach when I think about it.

Last night, after the kids were asleep, Bill and I talked about it. I had to tell him about the guilt I feel. Does any mother ever not feel responsible for her child's health - even if it's unreasonable? There are so many things that bother me.

The doctor pointed out to Bill that you can see how his jaw is bulging. His chin, on his right side, is more pronounced than on his left. You can see it. We didn't see it. I looked at a photo of him from over a year ago, and I can see it there too. We didn't see it.

He went to the dentist when he was 4, but I hadn't taken him since. His teeth are fine. He, and my other kids thus far, are like me. I go to the dentist once every 3 or 4 years. I brush my teeth twice a day. I floss twice a month. And every time, the oral hygenist is shocked at how great my teeth are. But my kids are not me. I should have taken him to the dentist. Maybe they would have seen this sooner.

I will flog myself for the rest of my life over this. Even if he's fine. Even if it all works out in the end.

But, in all things, I see the hand of God. My wonderful husband, who notices my pajamas and not his breakfast over a campfire, helped me to see it last night. I was in so much need of comfort that he just could not provide. But God, through him, gave it to me.

"We should have been in Fort Leavenworth right now. But we're not. We're here, with some of the best doctors in the country."

I needed to hear that. I needed to know that God is right here actively taking care of us. Yes, Bill's job stinks. Yes, we should have been enjoying a year in Kansas with loads of free time to do family stuff, and instead he's working horrible hours. But, no, we needed to be here. Even if it means a tough job for now. Even if it means he doesn't go to school next year either: both the orthodontist and the oral surgeon have asked "How long will you be in the area?" That's just not good. But it's OK. My guilt is not assuaged, but my soul is comforted.

It will be a rough road.

But we're not alone.

Prayer request

Bill just called on his way home with Fritz from the oral surgeon.

Fritz has a biopsy scheduled for August 21st. Some of the scenarios the docs are mentioning aren't too pleasant. And these are the scenarios IF the "growth" is benign.

So please say a few prayers for my little guy. And pray for me - I've got to be a brave mommy and not show any worry, at least not until I have cause to worry. There's enough time to do a novena. I think I'll do one to St. John Neumann whose intercession was ascribed to the healing of a young boy dying of cancer.

And my sister emails me that St. Apollonia is the patron saint of dentists and tooth problems.

Thank you.

Ah-ha moments and family reunions

At the family picnic on Saturday, Bill got cornered by 4 or 5 aunts and uncles talking theology, specifically women as priests.

Thank goodness they were his aunts and uncles and not mine.

Bill does not consider himself a strong defender of the faith. Like many Catholics, he believes it, but can't explain it. He found himself alone, and struggling, in trying to explain the Church's position. He tried to lasso me once for help, but I walked past him, oblivious to his plight.

Now the relatives with whom he argued are not bad people. They just have strong opinions, have reasoned through a few issues that relate to the Church, and have found the Church dreadfully outdated for the 21st century. If you are like me, and have struggled often with this one deadly sin as I have, you will recognize that the issue here is one of pride. After all, how could somebody so intelligent have faulty reasoning? If you get paid big bucks to make decisions that affect thousands of employees and stockholders, it is very difficult to imagine that you might be wrong.

Fortunately, these are not the sort of people who would actually leave the Church because they disagree with a few things. So the line of arguing was more one of "If I were Pope" rather than "The whole Catholic Church is wrong and that's why I joined the Episcopalians." Nevertheless, Bill felt that he didn't do enough to convince them of The Truth.

Finally, Bill managed to get my attention. His dad had joined the discussion, helping Bill, and all but one uncle had moved on to catch up with other relatives. This uncle asked me if I thought women should be priests and was somewhat surprised to hear me say no. He demanded me to defend my position in half sentences of no more than 5 words while being interrupted constantly by his counter arguments. And then he finally declared me "narrow-minded."

My feathers were not ruffled in the slightest.

In fact, I thought it rather amusing.

Bill, though, was not happy. On the way home we discussed it, and I told him that he can't expect to see an "Ah-ha!" moment - one where someone finally concedes defeat in an argument and is forever a changed person. In discussions like this, the best you could hope for is to plant a seed and provide enough fertilizer that gives the seed a fighting chance. Germination and growth will occur slowly, and it's highly unlikely you will ever see the fruit of your labor.

Heck, he was living with me and didn't see my ah-ha moment.

As for this uncle and this argument, we had a circular discussion. He brought up points which I countered with the same line of reasoning that he couldn't get around: Jesus ordained only men at the Last Supper; we can not guess His intent, so we can only imitate His actions and do the same; Jesus is God and is not constrained by protocol of His time (as demonstrated by His special treatment of women which drew criticism from others); Jesus taught the Apostles other things not specified in the Bible (that is specifically stated in the Gospels), and the Apostles did not ordain women either. If he's anything like me, this uncle may spend some time trying to find counterpoints to this line of reasoning. Perhaps he may find some twists in logic to satisfy his soul.

Or perhaps he will follow a path and one day have an "ah-ha" moment like me.

Visiting friends

Bill is on leave right now. We spent Friday and Saturday in PA and NJ visiting friends and family.

First order of business: finishing our house in NJ and finding tenants. I think we may have finally gotten some decent tenants...we have a signed lease and check for the security deposit in hand and we're just waiting for the credit report to hand over the keys and finalize the deal. And we have 2 other people on a wait list if they don't work out. Thank goodness.

I got to hold two babies - one was 3 months old and the other was 6 weeks old. That was lovely, as was seeing old friends we hadn't managed to visit in quite a while.

The main purpose of our trip (besides dealing with the house) was a family reunion of sorts in Kearny, NJ. The kids enjoyed the drive up the Turnpike through Newark where you can see the port and the ships unloading at the docks on one side and watch jets land on runways parallel to the highway on the other. And of course there's the NYC skyline off in the distance. It's a lot of concrete and asphalt, but still neat.

{My apologies to any city-slickers out there. I prefer rolling hills and bucolic landscapes. You can have your skyscrapers and neon lights.}

Two of Bill's cousins are expecting babies. That's wonderful. For a while, I was the only one having any children at all. Bill is the oldest of the grandchildren, so it makes sense that he would be the first married and the first to have kids. But we've been lonely waiting for the others to catch up!

Several of Bill's relatives are teachers. One uncle is a school principal. You can imagine that they haven't bought into homeschooling as an acceptable alternative to public or parochial school. The principal was asking Billy what 6 plus 2 was, and Billy apparently provided him with a blank stare. I wasn't around to crack jokes about my teaching qualifications, and of course, my husband in witnessing this felt a bit chagrined that our intelligent son wasn't being a bit more demonstrative of his abilities, which do happen to include the ability to add 6 and 2.

We've had many conversations about our kids not being part of a dog and pony show and about how we don't want to use them to make us look good. Yes, it would be nice if they could provide a stunning ad lib dissertation on the cause and effects of the current crisis in the Middle East, but that's just not realistic. So, we get to eat humble pie and hope that one day our kids will manage to be wonderful human beings despite everyone's fears that our homeschooling will handicap them.

There was also an interesting moment when one uncle called me "narrow-minded," but I'll save that for another post. I didn't mind. I actually felt part of the family!

Book Meme

1. One book that changed your life:

The Story of a Soul by St. Therese of Lisieux

2. One book that you've read more than once:

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson (delightfully wicked)

3. One book you'd want on a desert island:

Since Georgie checked out the library's only copy of Boatmaking for Dummies, I'll go with U.S. Army Survival Manual FM 21-76.

4. One book that made you laugh:

Any Calvin and Hobbes collection

5. One book that made you cry:

The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton

6. One book that you wish had been written:

1001 Tricks, Hints and Suggestions for Getting Your Kids to Do Whatever You Need Them to Do Right Away

7. One book that you wish had never been written:

An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser - based on a true story about a horrid man who, oh! I don't want to ruin the plot. It's an excellent book, and the story haunts me though I read it only once about 14 years ago. Very disturbing.

8. One book you're currently reading:

Orthodoxy by G. K. Chesterton

9. One book you've been meaning to read:

The Four Loves by C. S. Lewis

Your turn! Post in the comment box if you put this on your blog!

Army Ten Miler

It is 2 months and 5 days until the Army Ten Miler. Bill ran last year, and we're both running this year. His current job affords him very little free time, so he doesn't get a chance to run much. I've been dragging myself out of bed at 415 am so I can run a few miles before he goes to work.

When I first said I would run (many many months ago), Bill said he would run with me...not just run the race at the same time, but run right there next to me. I thought that was really sweet. But I told him it was ridiculous, since the best I could do was a 12 minute mile, and I would just hold him back. I'm now doing about a 10 minute mile, and I'm confident I'll be able to keep up with him. There are days I even dare ask him who will be keeping whom back?

I have to watch that, though. He's awfully competitive. Yes, he's very supportive and loving, but if I were to get just a bit too cocky, he'd leave me in the dust and laugh about it. I'd be laughing too: at his competitiveness.

I've never run in a race before. I've never run 10 miles before. I ran 8 miles back in June, but then I hurt my foot and I've only gotten back up to 5 miles last Saturday. Weekdays, I do 2 or 3 miles and it hurts a little.

Bill has told me that my competitive side will come out in the race. That I will find myself running a faster pace than a 10 minute mile. That I will be pushing myself harder than I ever have before. Perhaps. It might be hard not to, since I'll have him there next to me saying, "See that lady up there...the one in the white shirt? We're going to pass her...come on!" And off he'll go.

I may not care too much about the lady in the white shirt, but I am competitive with him. Just him. Every now and then, we play Scrabble. He beats the pants off me. By hundreds of points. I was a National Merit Scholarship recipient...he barely graduated high school. He doesn't know how he made it through college...I had the highest GPA within my major of my graduating class.

In all fairness to his intelligence, I must say that he is the smartest man I know. I hate to admit it, and often will not admit it to him, but I even think he's smarter than I am! But the grades he got in high school and college reflect a mental laziness that drives me insane!

A few days ago he told me that he had been assigned to a team at work for the Ten Miler.

"You're on a team?"

"Yes, they had the Fun Runners and the Rum Runners."

"You're on the Rum Runners, right?" (pause) "What's the difference?"

"One is the slow team and one is the fast team...the Fun Runners is the slow team and the Rum Runners is the fast team."

"The Rum Runners is the fast team? I'd have thought they'd be slow...as in I'm hung over or still drunk." (pause) "Wait...you're on the fast team?"

"Yeah, go figure."

But he'll do fine. I run as many days a week as I can, and I'll manage to finish the race. He rarely runs and will finish right there next to me. I got the good grades in school, but he spanks me in Scrabble.

It reminds me of the parable about the workers in the vineyard. Everybody gets the same reward at the end, whether they worked all day or only for one hour. I completely understand the complaints of those who labored all day long. It hardly seems fair. But I know it is fair.

The blog of an embedded reporter

I was in the midst of writing an entry about my frustrations with potty training my almost three year old when I got this group email from my friend Kim:

Onto another subject... for families of soldiers serving in Afghanistan.

My husband is with Oregon's 41st Brigade Combat Team. He is an embedded team trainer with the Afghan National Army. I don't know much about what they do or why they are really in Afghanistan. You can never believe what CNN has to say or take the word of your opinionated neighbor... and then, I was introduced to journalist Scott Kesterson. He is the embedded reporter with my husband serving in Kandahar.

Scott Kesterson and his blog have created an outstanding service for our US National Guard soldiers in explaining their misssion and depicting exactly what they do and why they are doing it. I have followed Scott's progress from training in Mississippi to the front lines of Afghanistan. You feel as though you are living a moment with the soldiers and, finally, understand their tribulations.

Scott's stories are from our soldier's viewpoint. I now understand more about my husband's mission, the Afghan people and their country's cry for freedom. Not only does this site take you on life threatening journeys, it also has incredible photos and video that paint surreal images for our families. I know this has brought me closer to my husband. This blogsite has brought me closer to my husband and his experiences - of which, thankfully, I will never have to endure.


When you have time, please visit this site: http://beloblog.com/KGW_Blogs/afghanistan/

And so I will ignore my petty griping for a bit, see what Perry is up to these days, and say a prayer for everyone's safe and speedy return home.

en route

I will finish the book I started on vacation soon. I must.

From page 130 (out of 168):

"And this is my last instance of the things that I should ask, and ask imperatively, of any social paradise; I should ask to be kept to my bargain, to have my oaths and engagements taken seriously; I should ask Utopia to avenge my honour on myself.

All my modern Utopian friends look at each other rather doubtfully, for their ultimate hope is the dissolution of all special ties. But again I seem to hear, like a kind of echo, an answer from beyond the world. "You will have real obligations, and therefore real adventures when you get to my Utopia. But the hardest obligation and the steepest adventure is to get there.""

- G. K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy

New Month's Resolution for August

Last month I wrote about not waiting until the New Year to improve your life. Even small changes, like always pairing your socks before putting them away, can actually make your life tremendously better.

It's a new month and it's time for a new month's resolution. Don't worry about last month (unless you want to continue a new good habit).

August is the month I prep for school. I've tons of things on my to-do list from ordering textbooks to organizing the school day, from updating my daily routine for housework to going through fall clothes so my school year doesn't come to a complete halt the day the temps don't get above 70 degress (will this heat ever really stop though?).

But my new month's resolution is this:

• Plan my dinner menu for the month of September
• Purchase all the non-fresh ingredients for the menu for the entire month (I have the freezer and pantry space)
• Prepare and freeze food for at least 8 days (2 meals per week)
• Make a grocery list for each week for all the fresh ingredients required for the menu.

The planning of the menu and the grocery lists won't take very long to do. I'll do the shopping as an extra trip next week when Bill is on leave.

Even the prep time for the 8 meals won't be that bad. One meal that we have once a week (most weeks) is tacos, since everybody likes them. I'll spend a few hours browning and seasoning about 6 pounds of ground meat which I'll freeze in 1 1/2 pound batches - that's 4 meals. Ten minutes in the microwave while I chop or shred tomatoes, lettuce and cheese, and dinner will be served with little cleanup required. And if the meat is thawed, the toppings prepared earlier in the day, and soft tortillas used, dinner can be on the table before the crowd even finishes washing their hands. This is a meal I plan for days when we have sports or some other activity either right before or right after dinner.

So, what's your new month's resolution?