A day late... but I am not a dollar short...and that's good right?
I am most thankful that I have my oven back. Three weeks ago the control board on it popped, spit sparks at me and made me scream... Everyone came running.... 'cuz well, mom doesn't scream often.
Hubby spent a few hours checking everything and fixed it so I could at least use the cook top. The new control board arrived on Monday.... and by the end of the night, it was all fixed.
I am so very thankful for a husband that knows how to fix things.... the part was way cheaper than a whole new unit.
Now I must go make scones........
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Words that Soothe the Soul
Most of the month of February has been melancholy for me.
My inner homemaker/Betty Crocker says why bother.... will I ever figure out this mom thing?..... isn't parenting supposed to be a joy? Then why does it feel like such a chore?
There have been trials in my marriage,
problems to solve during the day that seem to multiply like dust bunnies do.....
I have been tired, overwhelmed, and some days I have just really wanted a quiet place to crawl in.... and just bask in the quiet.
While I was smack in the midst of wallowing in my own private desire for solitude and peace.... I got an email from Mrs. Lori Flem.
You know what she said?
She said...."Marriage isn't supposed to make you happy. It's supposed to make you married." She said, it was MY job to make my marriage happy and satisfying. I was reminded that I am to love him in spite of our differences and that avoiding a conflict doesn't resolve it.
I needed that. Oh how I needed that. You see, sometimes the hurts that happen behind the scenes, you can't share with even your closest girlfriend. But you can share them with God. He listens. He knows. He will send you newsletters like Encouraging Moments, right to your inbox, to speak to your soul.
Maybe you are a mom like me, who sometimes is overwhelmed with the triple crown...
Let's be honest... there really probably isn't a maybe about it... It happens to us all, we all get tired and overwhelmed.
As your blog friend, I encourage you to go sign up for Lori's Encouraging Moments.
Go to http://www.homemakingwithteach.com/ , and enter your email address on the right hand side of the page.
Maybe this next Thursday, God will use Lori to whisper in your ear... and remind you, just how much He loves you.
****Disclaimer****
I am reviewing Encouraging Moments as an official member of The Gabby Moms blogging program for Eternal Encouragement magazine. I did not receive compensation for this post and all opinions are solely my own.”
My inner homemaker/Betty Crocker says why bother.... will I ever figure out this mom thing?..... isn't parenting supposed to be a joy? Then why does it feel like such a chore?
There have been trials in my marriage,
While I was smack in the midst of wallowing in my own private desire for solitude and peace.... I got an email from Mrs. Lori Flem.
You know what she said?
She said...."Marriage isn't supposed to make you happy. It's supposed to make you married." She said, it was MY job to make my marriage happy and satisfying. I was reminded that I am to love him in spite of our differences and that avoiding a conflict doesn't resolve it.
I needed that. Oh how I needed that. You see, sometimes the hurts that happen behind the scenes, you can't share with even your closest girlfriend. But you can share them with God. He listens. He knows. He will send you newsletters like Encouraging Moments, right to your inbox, to speak to your soul.
Maybe you are a mom like me, who sometimes is overwhelmed with the triple crown...
As your blog friend, I encourage you to go sign up for Lori's Encouraging Moments.
Go to http://www.homemakingwithteach.com/ , and enter your email address on the right hand side of the page.
Maybe this next Thursday, God will use Lori to whisper in your ear... and remind you, just how much He loves you.
****Disclaimer****
I am reviewing Encouraging Moments as an official member of The Gabby Moms blogging program for Eternal Encouragement magazine. I did not receive compensation for this post and all opinions are solely my own.”
Monday, February 14, 2011
Feburary 14.....
I sort of have a love- hate relationship with this day.
I love my husband... but Hate the crowds of people that go out on this day.
I love to do special things for the ones I love.... but honestly Hallmark, you can't really express all my emotions for me.
I think the reason I don't like it, is the commercialism. All the poor people sucked into overpriced floral arrangements, tacky cards, and hideous, chalk like tasting, heart candies.
I think the other reason I may not like it.... is that it is all about feelings. Warm fuzzy, hot and bothered, cute and cheesy....feelings. Not one thing that a person can buy, will ever represent real, honest, nitty gritty LOVE. The choice kind, not the feeling kind.
Feelings are why people say they fall OUT of love.
Feelings cause people to stand up for their RIGHTS in a relationship... and demand things from another person.
Feelings fade.
Choice love says... I love you when even when you have hurt me. Choice love doesn't run, even when every fiber of your being wants to. Choice love is respectful and kind, when all you want to do is scream and yell. It says, I am on your side, no matter what the circumstance. Choice love is rooted in commitment that transcends feelings. It forgives. You don't find it in box of candy, or written on a card.
You will find it in the little moments of love that are hidden throughout the year. The soft holding of his hand in mine. The touch of calloused, hard working fingers as they brush the hair from my eyes. Soft shared smiles over the heads of our children. Gentle deep breaths from the space next to me in the darkness. His arm around my shoulders as we sit in church. The way the kids roll their eyes when they see us hug and kiss.
Choice love is the growing old with you sort of love. The kind that you see when 90 year old people are all hunched over and shuffling hand in hand to their doctor appointments. The kind you find on wide, sun bleached porches with creaky swings and rocking chairs. It is steady and true. It is the kind of love I pray for, for me and for you.....
I love my husband... but Hate the crowds of people that go out on this day.
I love to do special things for the ones I love.... but honestly Hallmark, you can't really express all my emotions for me.
I think the reason I don't like it, is the commercialism. All the poor people sucked into overpriced floral arrangements, tacky cards, and hideous, chalk like tasting, heart candies.
I think the other reason I may not like it.... is that it is all about feelings. Warm fuzzy, hot and bothered, cute and cheesy....feelings. Not one thing that a person can buy, will ever represent real, honest, nitty gritty LOVE. The choice kind, not the feeling kind.
Feelings are why people say they fall OUT of love.
Feelings cause people to stand up for their RIGHTS in a relationship... and demand things from another person.
Feelings fade.
Choice love says... I love you when even when you have hurt me. Choice love doesn't run, even when every fiber of your being wants to. Choice love is respectful and kind, when all you want to do is scream and yell. It says, I am on your side, no matter what the circumstance. Choice love is rooted in commitment that transcends feelings. It forgives. You don't find it in box of candy, or written on a card.
You will find it in the little moments of love that are hidden throughout the year. The soft holding of his hand in mine. The touch of calloused, hard working fingers as they brush the hair from my eyes. Soft shared smiles over the heads of our children. Gentle deep breaths from the space next to me in the darkness. His arm around my shoulders as we sit in church. The way the kids roll their eyes when they see us hug and kiss.
Choice love is the growing old with you sort of love. The kind that you see when 90 year old people are all hunched over and shuffling hand in hand to their doctor appointments. The kind you find on wide, sun bleached porches with creaky swings and rocking chairs. It is steady and true. It is the kind of love I pray for, for me and for you.....
Saturday, February 12, 2011
down and out
There are just times when I have nothing to say.
I am sure my mom doesn't believe that... but it is true. Some days I just got nothing.
That is how it has been for awhile. I sit at the computer and the white posting screen for this blog just mocks me in its emptiness. So, hopefully you can forgive me and my silence.... I've been contemplative and introspective.... not chatty and light.
I feel myself coming around again... I am sure things will be back to normal soon.
I am sure my mom doesn't believe that... but it is true. Some days I just got nothing.
That is how it has been for awhile. I sit at the computer and the white posting screen for this blog just mocks me in its emptiness. So, hopefully you can forgive me and my silence.... I've been contemplative and introspective.... not chatty and light.
I feel myself coming around again... I am sure things will be back to normal soon.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Buses and Balloons
After eating our burritos and peppabroni peetzah, we headed over to meet our tour bus. We had purchased passes to help with the cost of several of our destinations, and this tour bus ride through Manhattan was part of the package.... Never mind that we had been up and walking all day... it was scheduled into the day to give us a chance to see a few things, and SIT while doing it. SIT being the desired position.... really I was starting to forget what sitting was.
We get to the bus about 3 minutes before it leaves,( huff...puff..huff puff...) and we climb the stairs up to the plexiglass covered upper deck of the bus. ( AHHHHH sweet sitting!!) Our tour guide was absolutely great.... If I could have sat right next to him the whole time I would have, but he was up and walking around the bus explaining all the things we were looking at in the fading light. I highly recommend this tour, just in the day time, I think we would have enjoyed it more if we could have seen more.
I learned that the neighborhood SoHo is named as such because it is South of Houston Street( properly pronounced HOW-stun street.... if you call it the name of that city in Texas... everyone will look at you like you have lost your head.) There is also a neighborhood called NoHo.... you guessed it... North of Houston ( did you read it right?? ) The whole neighborhood acronym thing apparently started taking off, other neighborhoods were jealous of how cool SoHo sounded so they began to make up their own....There is TriBeCa, or the Triangle Below Canal... see, and you just thought it was a film festival.
As you get off the Brooklyn Bridge there is a neighborhood called DUMBO... no I am not even kidding. Down Under Manhattan Bridge Over crossing.... yeah... others were similarly comical.
We were told about how TriBeCa, and SoHo were both famous for their wrought iron architecture, something that was impressive in the dark, and would have been breath taking in the daylight. The street that NYU is on doesn't like sound systems, so we had to strain to hear our guide, I am sure there were things to learn there, that I couldn't hear over the sound of the cars.
We learned that Bellvue Hospital was a great place to go if you get stabbed...( not kidding... this is among some of the amazing trivia we were supplied with ) apparently they are good for more than padded rooms and hug me coats. We also found out about a HUGE apartment complex that was built for Veterans returning from WWII, we thought that was kinda neat.
Just as we finished the boys who with full tummy's, and more than five minutes of sitting, had fallen asleep, it was time to get off the bus, and back onto the Subway to head up to Central Park and see the Balloons that were all blown up and ready for the parade in the morning.
We got off the Subway and started to follow the throng. We found out that we had to go around, and follow a different throng, which led us to a police man who said go over there and stand in that line.
"That line" was 3 blocks long, across a street and up a block more..... We were like... " Wha?" Thinking that he was kidding that 'that line' really had to be shorter, we walked a full block up past the end of the line, we were told by another police man that we indeed have to go back a block and wait.
This was supposed to be one of those things that is something only locals do. Only locals, my eye.
Somewhere in the course of waiting patiently to see over sized tarps, that were blown up with helium, I found a store... for I was DESPERATE for a cup of Kawhfee. I learned from this experience, and that of other similar corner store adventures in the city, that you do not order a coffee with cream. They look at you like you have spoken Greek.... Instead, the proper way to purchase and order one's beverage is to say "Can I get a Kawhfee?" Then they will ask you if you want, " Milk and Shoogah wit dat?" Followed with a sort of New York cursory head nod. And you are to reply with an equally respectful and cursory head nod and in my case " yeah, jus milk". I will note here that they looked at me like I was insane for not ordering it with Shoogah. Apparently the absence of Shoogah means you are really not a native New Yorker either.
Then next notable thing that happens EVERY TIME you go to one of these little markets... they put your Kawhfee, into a paper bag, with napkins. As if you are going to save it till you get home to drink it. Maybe I live in a state with too many Drive-Thru's and the need for a paper bag to hold my Kawhfee, that I am perfectly capable of holding in my hand, is lost on me.... but I really found it humorous that they gave me a bag....
Back to the line. It had only moved an 8th of a block... I hadn't missed much.
While we waited, moved a foot, and waited, moved a foot, and waited some more. We people watched. There was seriously NO lack of action to keep us entertained. We noticed that there were different levels of police personnel. Some were volunteers, some were big wheels, all of them were very nice, if you don't count the one that chewed out the volunteer guys for letting a cabby inch into the crosswalk. That guy looked a little grumpy and in need of some of my Kawhfee. We were voyeurs into apartments with walls of windows, where people were sipping wine and watching us. There were people out selling glow necklaces, people who were cursing the fact they lived near there and had to put up with all the foot traffic. Even with all the people, and all the waiting, the general mood was festive, and light. It was easy to strike up a conversation with people find out where they were from, and why they were crazy enough to be standing in this line too.
This is just the line AFTER we crossed the street.... I don't think I ever saw so many people in one spot in my entire life!
If you were short, it was hard to see. The crush of people that kept you hemmed in, made it so all you could see were butts. Hunter got a little help from big sis and brother who traded off carrying him the whole walk through the balloons
quick pause after we were done to pose with the NYPD.
and we are finally headed back to the hotel, 18 hours after leaving it this morning..... to rest for about 3 hours, so we can get up and get on with day three......... and the whole reason we came .........
THE PARADE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We get to the bus about 3 minutes before it leaves,( huff...puff..huff puff...) and we climb the stairs up to the plexiglass covered upper deck of the bus. ( AHHHHH sweet sitting!!) Our tour guide was absolutely great.... If I could have sat right next to him the whole time I would have, but he was up and walking around the bus explaining all the things we were looking at in the fading light. I highly recommend this tour, just in the day time, I think we would have enjoyed it more if we could have seen more.
I learned that the neighborhood SoHo is named as such because it is South of Houston Street( properly pronounced HOW-stun street.... if you call it the name of that city in Texas... everyone will look at you like you have lost your head.) There is also a neighborhood called NoHo.... you guessed it... North of Houston ( did you read it right?? ) The whole neighborhood acronym thing apparently started taking off, other neighborhoods were jealous of how cool SoHo sounded so they began to make up their own....There is TriBeCa, or the Triangle Below Canal... see, and you just thought it was a film festival.
As you get off the Brooklyn Bridge there is a neighborhood called DUMBO... no I am not even kidding. Down Under Manhattan Bridge Over crossing.... yeah... others were similarly comical.
We were told about how TriBeCa, and SoHo were both famous for their wrought iron architecture, something that was impressive in the dark, and would have been breath taking in the daylight. The street that NYU is on doesn't like sound systems, so we had to strain to hear our guide, I am sure there were things to learn there, that I couldn't hear over the sound of the cars.
We learned that Bellvue Hospital was a great place to go if you get stabbed...( not kidding... this is among some of the amazing trivia we were supplied with ) apparently they are good for more than padded rooms and hug me coats. We also found out about a HUGE apartment complex that was built for Veterans returning from WWII, we thought that was kinda neat.
Just as we finished the boys who with full tummy's, and more than five minutes of sitting, had fallen asleep, it was time to get off the bus, and back onto the Subway to head up to Central Park and see the Balloons that were all blown up and ready for the parade in the morning.
We got off the Subway and started to follow the throng. We found out that we had to go around, and follow a different throng, which led us to a police man who said go over there and stand in that line.
"That line" was 3 blocks long, across a street and up a block more..... We were like... " Wha?" Thinking that he was kidding that 'that line' really had to be shorter, we walked a full block up past the end of the line, we were told by another police man that we indeed have to go back a block and wait.
This was supposed to be one of those things that is something only locals do. Only locals, my eye.
Somewhere in the course of waiting patiently to see over sized tarps, that were blown up with helium, I found a store... for I was DESPERATE for a cup of Kawhfee. I learned from this experience, and that of other similar corner store adventures in the city, that you do not order a coffee with cream. They look at you like you have spoken Greek.... Instead, the proper way to purchase and order one's beverage is to say "Can I get a Kawhfee?" Then they will ask you if you want, " Milk and Shoogah wit dat?" Followed with a sort of New York cursory head nod. And you are to reply with an equally respectful and cursory head nod and in my case " yeah, jus milk". I will note here that they looked at me like I was insane for not ordering it with Shoogah. Apparently the absence of Shoogah means you are really not a native New Yorker either.
Then next notable thing that happens EVERY TIME you go to one of these little markets... they put your Kawhfee, into a paper bag, with napkins. As if you are going to save it till you get home to drink it. Maybe I live in a state with too many Drive-Thru's and the need for a paper bag to hold my Kawhfee, that I am perfectly capable of holding in my hand, is lost on me.... but I really found it humorous that they gave me a bag....
Back to the line. It had only moved an 8th of a block... I hadn't missed much.
While we waited, moved a foot, and waited, moved a foot, and waited some more. We people watched. There was seriously NO lack of action to keep us entertained. We noticed that there were different levels of police personnel. Some were volunteers, some were big wheels, all of them were very nice, if you don't count the one that chewed out the volunteer guys for letting a cabby inch into the crosswalk. That guy looked a little grumpy and in need of some of my Kawhfee. We were voyeurs into apartments with walls of windows, where people were sipping wine and watching us. There were people out selling glow necklaces, people who were cursing the fact they lived near there and had to put up with all the foot traffic. Even with all the people, and all the waiting, the general mood was festive, and light. It was easy to strike up a conversation with people find out where they were from, and why they were crazy enough to be standing in this line too.
THE PARADE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Marriage Moment
I don't know about you, but my marriage is this song.....
Take a listen, tell me what you think.
Take a listen, tell me what you think.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Jeremiah gets his wish
Every. Single. Time, you asked Jeremiah what he wanted to do in New York.... for MONTHS before we got there, his answer was always...
"Det a swice of peppabroni peetzah, and a dwink."
So, after being such a trooper, getting up at 4:30 am, riding subways, ferries and climbing around islands... we took a small ride to Times Square for dinner.
He dot his peppabroni, and ate it ALL!
"Det a swice of peppabroni peetzah, and a dwink."
So, after being such a trooper, getting up at 4:30 am, riding subways, ferries and climbing around islands... we took a small ride to Times Square for dinner.
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