Blah day

Today was a preschool sub day. Nice group of kidlets...cute and well behaved. Got to hear an Australian accent today. All these things were fine. The boy was not thrilled to go to school on his off day. It was Dad Day at school and, since it wasn't his usual day to go, he didn't have his daddy to bring like everybody else. Luckily another teacher, and mother of F's friend, let the boy be a part of their family for the morning. I so appreciate that. It gave me some peace of mind. The kids were a bit crazed today when I picked them up. I think two days with no recess have taken their toll. Bursts of energy mixed with periods of sloth. We have a no tv during the week policy, but I broke that today. They watched and I conked out hard for a good 20 minutes. Then to church for bells, dinner, choirs/trollers and then home. I have discussed. This before thy Wednesday night fellowship brings out the inner crazy in my boy. He loses his mind. Completely. He loves an audience and "tweenaged" girls are his most rewarding audience. They think everything he does is funny. Pure Heaven. I apologize to my readers this week for really lackluster posts. The rain washes away the funny and just brings the blah to our house. I hope for some fun soon. I will leave you with this picture. On our way to get the girls from school, I encouraged the boy to put his head back and close his eyes. He refused repeatedly, finally compromising by putting his head back with eyes open. When we got to school, this is what I saw:

Yeah, Mom still has the power. Don't forget it.

Humbled by 5th grade math

Jack the Garden Gnome is wishing you a happy December. He is going indoors for the rest of the cold months. Jack came to live with us when we moved into this house almost 8 years ago. He resides in the small round bed with the monkey grass in our back yard. My brother Mike picked him out to guard our yard and, with the exception of some rats from the neighbor's woodpile,...don't judge us. Speaking of my brother, have you ever been related to or married to or very close friends with a genius? Not just like someone you think is a genius, but like a real "genius-y genius"? Well, I'm a sibling of one and married to another. The funny thing is neither one acts like one. I don't mean that in a derogatory way, I mean they don't act like Jimmy Fallon's computer guy on SNL after answering a question, "Uh, you're WELCOME!". I hope B doesn't read this because he will not be pleased, but it is true. It was a rough evening in the homework realm, well rough for me trying to help S with her Advanced Math stuff. I have never liked math. Never. Ever. I am sure I have mentioned this before. My mom was(or always will be) a home economist and my dad is an engineering professor. I have no math skills. Before I dated Brian, I had a statistics class that was required for all social science majors. Since a large part of psychological research is based on statistics, it was kind of an important class. We had a handsome Greek professor, Zachary Stoumbos. Never will forget it. All of us hated math...that was part of our reason for choosing the major we did. We loved our professor and all did well and attended every evening study group he gave...until we found out he was married and had helped deliver his child on the side of the highway with a trucker. Wah wah waaaaaahhhh. The girls in the class were deflated...not that we thought we were going to date him, just the Indiana Jones' students swooning(without the painted eyelids). I got a good grade in the class and only because by the point we found out he was married he had actually "learned" us the information. That sneaky man. This was a story that veered way off of the path of anything we were talking about. The point is, after Statistics for the Social Sciences 3400, I never had to take anymore math classes. Just like any other skill, if you don't use it you lose it. I never had much to lose. So when the percentages came out in the homework tonight, I got through question one and a quarter. That was it and I had to utter the words that saddened me: "You'll have to wait and ask your father when he gets home. I don't understand it.". Ouch. As I sat and listened to him explain, I became more and more confused. Fifth grade math. How sad is that? This information comes to Brian like breathing is to most. Not just fifth grade math...any math. Makes me sick and proud all at the same time. Once I got to the point of being close t embarrassing my child, I left and did laundry. Seemed more my speed. And if you have ever met my brother, that's all you need. The sharp, quickness that is Mike. Finishing up his PhD. I like like a real academic gem as I bleach the socks.I pray often that my children will get their Father or Uncle's brain. It will just be so sad if they get mine....a life of laundry is ahead of them.

Interesting times...sad times

Let me start off by saying, if you pray, please say a prayer for my friend Allison's husband Tim. He had an abdominal aneurysm rupture last night and is fighting for life in the hospital. Less than 5% usually survive this catastrophic event. He has age on his side as most sufferers are a good 20-30 years older than he is. They have seven children, the oldest being 13. He received 22 units of blood during his emergency surgery. I cannot fathom the sadness and fear...just running the gamut of horrible emotions. Prayers for the Meredith family....Anything I say after that is going to seem very shallow and insensitive. My cousin texted today that their youngest baby's hips are out of socket. They were going to meet with orthopedic surgeons to see how to progress. They said it was treatable but a long road ahead. Prayers for them as well.Tonight I went to my work Christmas party and many people were told of this blog and how funny it is. I can't see that, but I am glad people enjoy it. Today is not a funny day. It is a heavy day. I think that the heavy days make the others so much lighter...much easier to shoulder. As much as I want levity, it is not appropriate for me tonight. While I don't want to feel the emotional gravity of situations, I need to feel it. I need to remember to hug my husband a little tighter....to thank God for my children's health. Sorry for the Debbie Downer post. Just say an extra prayer for Tim tonight, that he can be one of the 5% who defy the statistics. And for Allison, that she can feel the power and comfort of prayer and find strength to help her children navigate through the days ahead. Thanks....

Saw the big man today...and his right hand man

It was a big day today. The our two youngest sang in church today....so stinkin' cute, you could eat them up. F always looks so serious when he sings. He stands, very stoically, with his hands in his pockets and stares a hole through Aunt Amy, his choir director. I sit there in the congregation like some stage mom, putting my hands up to my face making the "Smile!" motion to him. If I continue on this path, you'll see me on Toddlers and Tiaras putting him in "Western Wear" and bleaching his teeth. But I digress. It was cute and they did such a nice job for both services.After church, we went home to have lunch and prepare for a busy afternoon. Brian had to play ref to the fighting sisters, choosing not to react to the screaming and cries of supposed pain. I lucked out and was on the phone with my mother getting the lowdown on a wedding we missed....how convenient for me. After the Treaty of Sibling was signed, the kids ate and began getting dressed in their "Going to see Santa" clothes. Uncle Mike and Aunt Deb showed up, as is tradition, to be extra hands and extra photographers/witnesses to the excitement. As we arrived, we met Papa Elf, Santa's head elf and chief of quality control. He thrilled the kids with magic tricks and juggling while Santa was feeding his reindeer for 20 minutes or so. The kids had fun seeing the big man and all put on their perma-grins for the photographer. F then practiced his handshake and introducing himself protocol to Santa, who seemed impressed. Papa Elf commented on the boy's glasses and we were off. Fun as always...they are growing up too fast.Tonight we started reading "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever" tonight. I have always loved that book and thought the kids would enjoy it. They are so far and I can't wait to read again tomorrow. This season goes by so fast...I want to slow time and soak up every ounce of it. What a gift!

Christmas exploded at our house today

Today was tree decorating day, which was good especially since I was recovering from Pizza Inn's revenge. Sad to be losing a prime people watching venue, but that was rough. So with little energy or patience, we set off to run to the grocery before starting the tree festivities. We got our sammich makings and ended up driving to another part of the parking lot so we could watch the Christmas parade from our car. We saw many parade-esque things: floats, rescue vehicles and cheerleader/twirler girls. What we weren't expecting was the mobile wrestling ring with two guys, one who was dressed somewhat like Spiderman and the other like Sea Bass from "Dumb and Dumber". I don't which was more amusing, the wrestlers or Brian running out of the car and down the road to get a picture. We also saw an Elvis who was dressed like young Elvis but built like the Las Vegas sweaty Elvis. We scurried on home and began preparing for decorating. It took a few adjustments and a 10 minute bizarre stint on the Irish Rover Christmas channel on Pandora, but we finally got a decent channel...starting with "O Holy Night"...which got me crying. A lot. The girls helped with the lights. Each child took a strand of wooden cranberries. F obviously helped with the garland. Soooo much help. Then came the ornaments. We have the very first one my parents ever made as newlyweds, with directions from Southern Living:

My parents are the masters of home made ornaments...pure artisans in the salt dough medium. Here are some of my favorites:

The picture directly above is not of my parents making, but of their doing. It has become the ornament that all the kids fight over. The Christmas Pickle. Who woulda thunk it? Well, the tree is done and we found some visitors who are staying though the holidays, I guess. Beware if you come to visit:

The rest of the day was consumed with recuperating and 4H craft projects(picture coming soon). Now I await bedtime which is nigh. Let's hope for better sleep for tomorrow we see the big man. I hope he is ready for them.One last housekeeping note. I am using the only somewhat workable app for BlogGer at this point and it stinks. A nice man writing in broken English wrote me that my old app is in line to have its corrections approved. Can't come soon enough for me. So, forgive the breaks and weird sentences. I have to read and edit in HTML which very difficult for me, so thanks for not thinking of me as an uneducated idiot who doesn't proof her work. It is just hard to sort through everything. Thanks!

Not as good as last trip, but there's always something to watch...

Another weekend is upon us, thank goodness. This week has felt more like a month. We had not eaten out in a bit, so the request was made to go to, wait for it...wait for it...PIzza Inn!! I must preface this by saying that our experience tonight in no way comes close to the excitement of last trip. Nothing ever will and if it does I will write a novella, make millions and live out a comfortable life running a firewood and home repair ministry for the locals here while indulging my love for skeet shooting and snow skiing with my husband, my children, my 17 grandchildren, my brother and his family and my parents. There is, however, a wealth of material to draw from every day. It took us over a month to get over the OCD incident, but we were ready to venture back in without fear of breaking into hysterical laughter. It was unusually quiet for a Friday night, but we weren't complaining. As we were enjoying our meals, a father and two sons came in and sat down at the booth next to us. As soon as the one son went up to the buffet, we knew he'd be someone to watch. He seemed very familiar with all the employees of the Inn. He spoke to them on a first name basis, calling the cooks in from the back line to instruct them on their pepperoni placement and slice size cutting. He was very particular about exactly how much of what he wanted on his requested pizza, all while dressing in khakis, a polo shirt and crocs. He just seemed like a miniature adult. We were winding down our visit, when S requested a slice of dessert pizza. They had just brought two out of her requested pizza when a line began to form. I went to take my place and our little "friend" pushed in front of me. That was fine, I had no need to fight a 6th grader over a piece of pizza with chocolate chips on it. He looked at the first pizza, which had a few pieces missing, and moved on. Surveying the second pizza, he yelled back to his brother "Hey, -----! They did a better job with this one! The chip to slice ratio is much better and the slices are much bigger!!!". He then, singing a little song to himself, searched the pizza for the two biggest slices and placed them carefully on his plate. He held the plate up to his nose and inhaled deeply. Then, he turned to me, stuck his plate right in my face, then pulled it back and forth and back and forth saying, "This piiizzzzaaaa is sooooo chooooocolaty....mmmmm....mmmmm...mmmmmmm!". This went on for about 15 seconds with me looking at him like he had a third eye and he was looking me like "Nanny nanny boo boo!". I started looking around to see if anyone else was watching this, but most people were just wanting things to move along so they could get their food and sit down. I got S's piece, told her she'd better appreciate it after the bizarre experience of getting it and to hurry up before I had a buffet induced nervous breakdown. Needless to say, I told B it was obvious that we hadn't stayed away long enough between visits. Bizarro time as always. The rest of the day was fairly boring. I made two little bags for a brother/sister team. I wrapped his up before I got a picture, but I did get one of the girl's:

Nothing exciting, but fun. Our neighbor is trying to get some sort of government clearance, so I got interviewed by an agent about him today. I made sure to let her know that he, as a former gymnast, had taught my children some cartwheels and flips in the front yard and he had been braver than most trying their triple strength grape koolaid at their lemonade stand. And, because of the privacy act of 1974, he can access my whole statement and see what a weirdo he has for a neighbor. I know they have to do their job, but the man is a navy guy who recently spent a year being deployed in Afghanistan...I think he will be loyal to our country for sure. Well, bedtime. Tomorrow we'll trim the tree and hope that all the coughs and sniffles are a little better. Sleeping in will be a great help for that. Ahhh, weekends.....

Weird follows us where e'er we go

It has been a long week and we figured we needed some sort of fun activity for this evening. Since it is December 1, what better time than tonight to go get a tree? We have had, as I suspect most people have, varied experiences with getting trees. When we were newlyweds, we usually went to Lowe's or the local nursery. As the children have come along, we have tried to make it a more memorable experience....just like picking a pumpkin at Halloween. We have driven to hell and back trying to find unique tree experiences. Being Frasier Fir people, we pay a premium regardless of where we go in our area. NC is the closest place where they actually grow, so we are at the mercy of the dealers. We have tried to break our FF habit, but to no avail. So with that in mind, we have gone to several places where the owners think they can convert us to Pine and Spruce people...luring with us with hot chocolate and turns at using axes and chainsaws. We have driven into places and prayed our way out, either because the terrain was rough or the area was sketchy(more on that in a minute). When my parents had a country house in Blacksburg, VA, their next door neighbors were horticulture professors who had a Christmas Tree farm on their property. When we went up for Thanksgiving, we made a trip down the road and had the whole experience. We named our particular type of tree, rode a wagon out there, picked our favorite, B chopped it down and then we got hot chocolate and cookies. We had the full set of scientific directions for the proper care of said tree. Wonderful! Then we had a couple years of the various lots or overpriced nurseries. Then, two years ago, our lives were changed forever. B found a "tree farm" online and they had FF trees, so we were up for an adventure. It was in the East Knoxville area near the zoo, so we headed out. You know you are in for a real experience when the GPS no longer registers your location and your animated vehicle looks like it is flying in the clouds. When we got there, oh were we in for a treat. The gift shop was manned by, forgive my description, two people who belonged in Deliverance. The gifts were from circa 1982 Big Lots or Dollar General, covered in dust with their original 1982 prices on them. Brian asked about the trees, which prompted a longwinded explanation of how the farmer tried to grow F Firs and how we just don't have the climate for the and he lost thousands of dollars on little failed seedlings. About this time, a barefooted feral 5 year old girl rode up driving an ATV of some sort. At this point, after seeing all of this plus the following picture, B gave me the "Let's pick a tree and get the &/$; out of here" look.

Yes, this was at a Christmas Tree farm(picture from my friend Denise who also had the experience). After all of this,the F Firs were unceremoniously kept in a small, locked dog run across the road from the gift shop.we got the tallest, plumpest and most affordable one we could find....practically threw the money at them and were off before the children had much time to ask a lot of embarrassing questions out loud. Longing for the days of normalcy, we went back to Lowe's last year and got a perfectly acceptable tree. This year we wanted to get one as soon as possible, so we chose to go night hunting. This eliminated the aforementioned Tree farm for a whole bunch of reasons, probably the biggest being my youngest's severe diarrhea of the mouth malady. We wanted to get out alive and his strange and unfiltered questions could make for a slippery slope. We ventured to the tree lot across from our grocery store. We had successfully obtained trees from them before, so what the hey. A virtual Frasier Fir wonderland it was. We were a sight: the kids on super hyped up mode, drunk with the Christmas spirit and the smell of tree and B, in his cargo shorts, Batman tshirt and vest. I looked my usual self, jeans, Chucks and a fleece. Now, to be fair, I started the kids up by reenacting one of my favorite scenes from "A Christmas Story":

I know, you can't take me anywhere. We found our tree fairly quickly and waited for the man to come take us through the process. I am not a small person so I can say this, the man was a bit on the round side, very friendly and pleased with the traffic at his lot. Dragging our tree the 30ft to their little trailer and bagging area, he set the tree down, started breathing labored breaths and grabbed his chest. B was rerunning CPR training through his mind and the man kept saying he needed to catch his breath before continuing on. His wife thought B was crazy for wearing shorts and said so often. After the tree was wrapped in the netting, Brian, fearing for the man's heart, dragged the tree to the car. Tree guy got winded again trying to assist in the placing of the tree on top of the van. He then ordered his wife to help B tie the tree on while he helped a very affluent lady in her Merecedes load a Norway Spruce into her car. The wife forgot about helping B and was handing candy canes out to random people. B said, "That man is so drunk. I'm afraid he won't make it back to his trailer.". All of a sudden I heard the word "gun". My ears perked a little. The Mercedes woman left...I heard "gun" again. The man then got over to B and asked, "Do you have a gun so you can shoot me?". Well, the look on B's face was priceless, the children went ashen and I fought the urge to laugh out of my discomfort. B assured him that all he had was a small pocket knife. This seemed to not be the answer Tree man wanted, so he wished us a Merry Christmas and was on his way. This just proves, once again, that our family can do nothing in a normal way. I really love that, I think.