Definition of...

I have been blessed with a daughter who likes to dust.  Yesterday we were all tidying up the house, and I asked Katie what she wanted to do.  She offered to dust, as I knew she would, and I told her that was a great idea.  I do not prefer to dust.

I have also been blessed with a daughter who likes to clean sinks.  Jenny enjoys swishing the water around.  I have sent her off to clean sinks many times before and not been overly impressed with her efforts.  She is only 7, and I haven't been there showing her how.  By the time I check up on her work, she's off and playing.  I keep forgetting that "next time" I need to supervise her.

Yesterday, again, I asked her to clean just the downstairs bathroom sink.  I had cleaned the upstairs bathroom during bath time the night before and had spot wiped the downstairs toilet.  The sink area, though, really needed attention.  I asked Jenny to do it, and she readily agreed because she likes this chore.

"Just the sink?" she asked for clarification.

"Yes, honey, everything else is fine.  It's just the sink that needs to be cleaned."

I was busy elsewhere, and forgot to supervise her, again.  When I checked later, the sink looked like it hadn't been done at all.  Yet I had seen her in there, running water and having a great time.  I stopped and looked closely.

The porcelain, the bowl of the sink, sparkled and shone like a jewel.  It was the counter area that looked deplorable.  But I hadn't told her to clean the counters.  I told her to clean just the sink.  So she did.

Next time...

The Great White South

My children have been lamenting their horrid lot in life.  They've been feeling deprived...poor unfortunate souls.  Their cruel parents have forced them to live in a place where it does not snow.  How ever would they survive the winter? 

So, when it did snow yesterday, I had to take a picture to prove to them that, so far, not a winter has passed them by without some white stuff. 

Don't you see it filling the sky?  No?  Look really closely.  You might see some white streaks...

 We even had some accumulation.  On the porch furniture.  See it?

 Here's a close up.  It's not sand...it's snow.  I assure you.

As I went through the winter clothes bucket, I found these Lands End boots.  They are infant size 6, and Mary is a size 7.  It seems pointless to donate them to the local thrift store, don't you think? 


I can't think of any little girls who live in colder climes.  If you or anyone you know needs them, please email me.  They are free to a good home.

Giddy

Grown up toys are way better than any kid toy.  And I got a toy for Christmas.

This is the first picture I took with my new camera.  I hadn't figured out how to turn on the "live view" so I had no idea at what I was aiming.  Bill pointed out to me that there was a viewfinder - oh, duh.

My next shot was at the table to my left and I got this picture of a camel's rear end and an overturned train car.  The clarity had me all giggly.

I spent my day reading the quick start guide - half of which made no sense to me (aperture size...shutter speed...), but I practiced all the point and shoot features.

Good looking faces.  They look good in real life.  I've never had a camera that did them justice.

Some of our ornaments.  I'm loving being able to focus on the one object among many others.

My dog did not like all the whirring and clicking.  I tried to get a better shot of her, but she hid under the porch swing. 

Did you have a white Christmas?  Obviously, we did not.  I rather enjoyed sitting outside playing with my camera.  We might get some sleet tomorrow, but then the temps go back up.  Yes, I am rubbing this in.  I'll be back up in the cold before you know it.

This picture is my slippered foot.  I was practicing moving the point of focus to something off-center.

This is my favorite picture - the last one I took.  I had to concentrate the focus area to a smaller size to get past the rails of the deck and to the nails on the handrail by the steps. 

I never thought a camera would make me so happy.  I'm so glad to have a husband who spoils me because I never would have bought this camera myself.  In a month or so, expect lots of pictures of me as I practice the timer thing-y.  In order to replenish our savings account, I've decided to eliminate our grocery budget.  I should look rather svelte by spring.

Quitting Time

I have reached that point.

Gingerbread houses?  Yeee...NO.

This child's favorite cookies?  No.

That new recipe that looks so good?  No.

This perfect gift?  No.

That box of decorations?  No.

The homemade red velvet vests I've been promising the boys for years?  Again, no.


My cards are here, and I will be sending them out.  I have wrapping to do.  And mailing.  And we always decorate the tree on Christmas Eve.

But my house will not be perfectly clean and tidy and decluttered.  We will have a variety of cookies, thanks to a cookie exchange but not my own baking.  And I'm not sure how elaborate Christmas Eve dinner will be.  Fish sticks are looking mighty good right now.

I learned long ago that the point at which the preparations are more stress than fun is the time to stop and call it quits.  What's done is done.  Now it is time to enjoy the fruits of my labor. 

The BEST Presents...

...are ones you can't wrap.

My sister and her family, who have been living in Alaska for 3 years and whom I have not seen since May 2009, are coming to my house today!

Little Star

Have you seen the many reviews for this book in the blogosphere?  I, too, received a copy from the author, Anthony DeStefano, in exchange for my opinion of it.

Little Star is a delightful story of the birth of Jesus, told within the story of an insignificant star which burned brightly to warm the newborn King.  Although this star's effort expended him, he is remembered forever as the Star of Bethlehem and is honored by those who decorate their trees with stars.

In the weeks we've had our copy, the book has been read many times, often by the older children to the younger ones.  It would be a wonderful addition to anyone's Christmas book library.  If you are looking for an inexpensive family gift for someone with young children, I think this would be an appreciated present.

Go here to see the lovely illustrations by Mark Elliot and to hear the story (narrated by Pat Boone).

On Receiving Photo Cards

The kids keep getting bigger, year after year, but the parents haven't changed a bit.

Or have they?  (And I'm just in denial about everybody's extra wrinkles and gray hairs, including my own?)

Making me smile

"I see birthday cards, Mommy," says Mary happily pointing to the mantle.

"Yes, Christmas cards, honey."

"I see a snow one!" she exclaims, pointing to one with snowflakes, and then pointing to the ones with nativity scenes:  "And two God ones!"

Go, Ginger!

My hero for the day is Ginger Littleton who snuck up behind a crazed, gun-toting man with a death wish and whacked him on the arm with her purse.

For her courage, I commend her.

Unfortunately, all she did was annoy him.  She was very lucky he didn't shoot her in the head.

The lesson to be learned: never take a purse to a gun fight.

Photo cards

Despite being a somewhat organized person, I've been flying by the seat of my pants this Advent season.  Things like, opening up my morning toothbrushing companion on December 8th to have it remind me that it's a Holy Day of Obligation.  Or remembering at 4 pm on December 12th that the store didn't have the Mexican dishes I planned to serve in honor of Our Lady of Guadalupe when I went shopping three days earlier and I now needed to run out and get them.

Christmas cards are another thing that I just hadn't gotten around to thinking about until last weekend when I realized that time was beginning to run short.  Fortunately, I found out that Shutterfly was offering 50 free cards to approved bloggers who wrote about them.  (I got approved!  Woohoo!!).

I know for certain that Shutterfly is easy to use and has super fast delivery.  Bill came home from Afghanistan on December 18th and I used that homecoming photo for our cards. 

OK, so maybe the cards were a teeny bit late...but that was the fault of the addresser of envelopes (me!), not Shutterfly, I assure you.

Besides being quick and easy, I love that Shutterfly's Christmas cards have the exact message you want to send.  You can make it Christ-centered if you choose, or you can make it more generic if that isn't your style (or your audience's style).  Shutterfly will also stamp and mail your cards for you if you want.  Expensive, but convenient.

Besides photo cards, Shutterfly offers loads of photo gifts.  Since my kids' biggest present this year is a trip (not an easy thing to wrap!), I decided to make a photo puzzle which will serve as a clue to where we're going.  Four of my children will get a section of the puzzle (the other two are too little to participate and their pictures aren't in the photo clue anyway).  I think that will be a fun way to tell them the surprise, plus it gives me something to wrap and put under the tree.

I don't think I've ever linked so much to one place in one post before, but there you go.  My whole-hearted endorsement of Shutterfly for all your photo-personalized desires.

Now I just need to get haircuts for the boys, coordinate clothing and get 8 people to smile all at once.

My work is never done

Yesterday, the 3rd Sunday of Advent, is the day we usually put up the Christmas tree.  We don't put up the ornaments, just the tree and lights.  That didn't end up happening, but that's not the point of the post.

Because the intent was to put up the tree, and because I've done absolutely nothing to ready the house for Christmas, getting the room ready for the tree involved quite a bit of dusting, vacuuming and moving of furniture.  This, of course, highlighted spots and stains in the beige wall-to-wall carpeting that one might not normally notice.

So I hauled out the Bissel rug steam cleaner (an investment that has paid for itself many times over), and I set to work removing evidence of sloppy, dirty children who are not allowed to bring food into the living room but who do so anyway.

It's my fault that I have not removed at least one child's left ear to show the others the punishment for eating in the forbidden zone.

Since the cleaner was already out, I continued to the space between the living room and dining room which is high traffic and a magnet for spilled food.  Then I shuffled the dining room table around the lifted the rug there to clean all the spots that landed just off the area rug and onto the beige wall-to-wall carpeting.

People who put beige wall-to-wall carpeting in a dining area obviously do not have children.

I shudder to think how bad the carpeting would be without the area rugs.

I plan to take all my pretty area rugs to a professional cleaner in 10 years or so to remove all evidence of urine, juice, spaghetti sauce, etc.  For now, the busy patterns hide the mess. 

We had other things yesterday (Mass, children's party at church, flag ceremony for Scouts), so my cleaning took most of the day, and I finished up just before dinner.  I was almost done when one child decided that she desired some purple grape juice (a rare treat, and the only kind of juice she really likes).  A crowd gathered and suddenly everybody under the age of ten was indulging in a cup of dark purple liquid.  One child (not the 3 year old and not the 5 year old) immediately walked into the living room to see what was on TV and promptly spilled her drink.

My freaking out less than saintly display of emotion was quickly tempered when I saw she was in tears.  She had seen me working all day long, and knew the rules, and was very very sorry.

This is why my children have all their ears. 

Fortunately, I was still finishing the dining room, so clean up was easy.  I am once again happy to walk into that part of the house.  A clean house fills me with joy, and no matter how vacuumed the rug is, stains and the dinge of traffic are not "clean."

I pulled another rug from the garage and put it in the awkward spot between the dining room and the living room.  It looks stupid, since it is unanchored by furniture, but it looks better than plastic.  Anybody's grandma have plastic on the carpeting?  I used to think it was odd or tacky. 

Now I just think it clever.

Digital art

Fritz needed to use some software to make a picture to earn his Computer Merit Badge for Scouts.  I generally use Paint.net (it's free), so I gave him a quick tutorial and set him loose.  He and the other kids thought this was the greatest invention ever.  Now, I see them "drawing" all the time. 

At my desk. 

It has done nothing to reduce the amount of paper being used here, but they are certainly becoming talented computer artists.  This drawing, by Katie, reminds me of their early hand drawing work.  I figure in a few months, with lots of practice, they'll be very proficient at computer graphics.

It's a talent I may be able to use in the future.  I see professional looking invitations for the most mundane of events ("Mom's playdate, my house, 3 pm, BYO Margarita glass").

Sink Cleanup

Because I've been making stockings, my real job (wife, mother, cook, housekeeper, teacher) has been somewhat neglected.  It happens.  It's part of our family plan: things run smoothly 11 months out of the year.  December, everybody fends for himself/herself.  This is why my 5 year old is able to help his 3 year old sister make a turkey on a bagel sandwich snack.  Waiting for mom, you'd starve.  It's a mini-boot camp for independence.

Guilty mother confession: my children had cereal for dinner last night.  Yes, I hang my head in shame. 

I'll give them veggies in January.

However, inspired by this challenge, I decided that I would do my usual Friday clean-the-house routine, at least as far as the kitchen counters go, and also tidy that space above the sink.  The floor will not be getting mopped today, but the sink looks great.

Here are some before pictures:

After taking everything off the sill and cleaning it and the window, I put the money, matches, gum and cleaner back where they belonged.  The oils went back on the counter nearer the stove, where they used to live.  Most of the drugs were from a recent sinus infection that my husband had and were disposed of.  I did keep the one he takes daily out, but I slightly hid it behind some cheery ribbon.  I removed the sticks that rotate the blinds and tucked them in the top pane behind the blinds where they can't be seen (from the kitchen - they can be from the playroom, but the kids don't care).  And I secured the strings that raise and lower the blinds mostly out of sight behind the curtains.  Since the window looks out on the playroom/sunroom, the blinds are never adjusted.  And now my Kitchen Madonna does not have a stick dangling in front of her.

Check out other kitchen sinks here.

Camo Christmas

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. 

Because the colors of Christmas are the greens and tans of camouflage...right?

My dining room table is my work space.

White fluff is...messy.

Really messy.  That fluffy haze gets everywhere.  Twice
I've made the mistake of wearing a black shirt while working.

I can hang 'em right or left.

And once again, I am pondering the wisdom of having a seasonal business that is busiest at the busiest time of year.  And once again, I am vowing to spend my summer sewing.

Blessed

Today was one of those terrible, horrible, rotten, no-good days.  I must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed.  I even screwed up making coffee.  Twice.

So when I pulled up to the gate this afternoon and handed the guard my ID and she asked me, "How are you today?"  I answered, "Fine, thank you," even though I didn't really mean it.  And I asked her, "How are you?" because I am polite, and because I really do care, in a small way, and strive hard to recognize that it is a person and not an automaton with whom I am dealing. 

And she answered, "I am blessed.  Thank you for asking."

And I drove away thinking, "Maybe this isn't such a  terrible, horrible, rotten, no-good day after all."

Because, in the final analysis, I am blessed, too.  Big time.  And my grumpiness is an ungrateful forgetfulness of that fact.

Camping and Laundry

Our blood has thinned.  The heat does that to you.  Yesterday it was only in the 40's...you would have thought a blizzard was imminent with how my children pulled out the gloves and hats.  Last night Fritz had Scouts and he wanted to know where his winter coat was.  Alright, it was in the 30's by evening, but the meeting was indoors.  I'm doing fine with layers.

The boys have a camping trip this weekend.  The Webelos are hanging out with the Boy Scouts in preparation for their crossing over in March.  Billy gets to sleep in a tent with Fritz and do stuff with his patrol.  It's a good thing, too, because Bill and I have an event Saturday night, and it would be difficult for us to camp with Billy (Cub Scouts typically need a parent or other guardian with them on campouts).

Neither Bill nor I were particularly eager to camp out either.  Bill did it last month with Billy, and the morning temps were close to freezing.  It makes the event somewhat less enjoyable.  Especially when you have to work hard to get that hot cup of coffee.

But it seems that God is smiling on the Scouts this weekend.  The daytime temps are expected to be in the mid to upper 60's.  Saturday morning might be uncomfortable for Fritz with temps in the upper 30's, but Sunday morning temps should be 10 degrees higher.  The camp is local, so Bill will be able to get up, enjoy freshly brewed hot coffee with ease, and head over to retrieve them in time for Mass and not expect to find two Popsicle Scouts.  Maybe he'll even bring some hot chocolate.

It's hard to believe that Billy will be a Boy Scout soon.  It amazes me to see how mature Fritz is getting, not that Scouts is completely responsible.  But I do think it helps.

Of course, as I write this, staring up at me from my desk is a blue card that would show he had completed his Environmental Science Merit badge - a tough one and a requirement for Eagle.  It would show he completed it...expect that he left it in his pants pocket and put it in the laundry.  Now it doesn't say much of anything.

So, he is maturing.  But he's still very much just twelve.

Lego Creche

I just received this link in my email and I need to post it here so I can find it again. 

Lego Creche (a tutorial)

My boys will be wanting to do this, right after they finish playing with the game St. Nicholas brought them today: The Priest Game.  They've been playing all day.  "It's awesome," is my 12 year old's review.  Keep in mind he's a geeky homeschooled kid if you are wondering if your 12 year old would like it too. 

Dog Days of Advent

My neighbors are decluttering and cleaning and moving on to a new stage in their life.  They have generously thought of us, and have been bringing over bags of things they no longer need but which we, a younger family, may find useful.  The books, especially, the kids have enjoyed: plenty of novels for the younger set and even some books for the little ones.

Yesterday, their daughter was home from college.  She came over while I was out shopping.  Bill said she was much too young to be living out on her own.  I reminded him that we stopped living full time with our parents while we were still teenagers.  We've reached the age where anyone without a few gray hairs is "too young" for anything, I think.

Anyway, neighbor daughter must have been told by her parents to start clearing out the things of her childhood.  She brought over some Barbies (and lots of teeny tiny accessories) and three Scooby-Doos that sing songs.  Bill said she had collected them way back when.

Three Scooby-Doos that sing/bark Jingles Bells or whatever.  I'm not sure what they sing because I have banished them from my presence.  I hear them rolfing in the next room and I try hard not to listen.  I suggested that at least two be gifted to friends who might enjoy their annoying cheerful noise, but then I think that their mothers might not like me much any more.  Should I share the misery or just offer it up?  Maybe Scooby-Doo will find his way to the nearest thrift store.  Soon.

Future Aspiration: Snow Birding

The other day, I turned the heat on...for about an hour.  Once my downstairs temperature got above 70, I turned it off.  Yesterday, it was quite warm, and the house was a sweltering 79 without any help from the furnace.  It was a rainy day which is why the windows stayed closed.

Autumn begins today, though.  The 10 day forecast is only showing temps below 70.  It is extremely easy to forebear Christmas decorating when you've been keeping the kids' shorts and t-shirts handy and walking around barefoot most of the time.  The kids have been watching too much TV, apparently, since they have been lamenting a winter with no snow.  All the commercials show white Christmas scenes.  I, for one, will not miss snow this year.  Perhaps this mild weather will get old in 4 or 5 or 6 years.  For now, I will enjoy it, since I doubt I will be here in even 2 years.

I was thinking about a blog post written at the beginning of summer about air conditioning.  At the time, I was wilting in my home.  We have upstairs and downstairs heating and cooling systems.  The upstairs one was set to 85 to keep it from running all the time.  At night, I would turn it down to 80 and it would sometimes kick off before we got up in the morning.  The downstairs system was set to 78-80 and it ran most of the time.  We had a party in July and I set both systems to 70 the day before the party.  By the afternoon of the party, with the A/C running constantly, the downstairs was over 75 and the upstairs was over 80.  They just couldn't handle the heat.  Nighttime temperatures rarely got below 75 so offered no help if we opened windows.

Not running the A/C was not an option.  Not if I wanted to remain sane.  Many of the commenters on that blog post expressed deep dislike over artificial cooling and waxed sentimental over the slamming of the screen door and the sounds of children playing in the yard filtering through the open windows.

I have a feeling these same people have been running their heaters for a month - maybe more.

A few weeks ago, Bill asked if I'd like to live in Savannah, some day - not suburbia where we are - but in the city itself with the old homes and the dripping Spanish moss in quaint and quiet squares.  That gorgeous November day, with the sun hot but not unbearable, and the shade lovely and the walk downtown quite enjoyable, I said yes.  And then I laughed and thought about June and July and August and even September and said that we'd have to have another home - perhaps in Maine.

Some place with screen doors and no air conditioning.