Swimming Pool Etiquette for 2015

I love to swim as much as the next person. After my chores were done in the summertime, my brother and I would walk to our local American Legion Pool and swim for the afternoon. On rare occasions, my mom sent us with some extra cash to get some junky something at the snack bar. Sometimes I would sneak money and get something. One time, after my mother had forbidden it, I snuck and got a candy bar. A friend ratted me out when my mom came to pick me up...after I had lied and told her I hadn't eaten anything there. That was a nice summer spanking I received later when my father arrived home. And the last spanking I ever got also. Anyway, I digress. I took the kids to the pool today...they needed to be worn out. I haven't seen the lifeguard blow his whistle that much ever. All of his whistling was aimed at one particular DAD who decided to turn beast mode on half the kids in the pool. I think all of the kids were related to him in some way or another, but it didn't make any difference to the lifeguard or me(or half a dozen other parents watching). Listen, my dad played hard with us in the pool, dunking us every once in a while, giving us a good splash here and there, grabbing us and tossing us...much to our great delight. This dad, or whoever he was, grabbed the children by the ankle. He was the size of a slightly smaller Andre the Giant, so the kids were powerless against him. He would get a good hold on them and then rapid fire splash gallons of water their faces with out stopping. The kids were choking and gasping until the lifeguard blew the whistle for him to stop. He then continued his grip and pulled the child on out in the 8 foot area where he could swim and they could not and threaten to leave them there to drown. I was texting a running commentary to the hub who was home working on our tomato blight problem. Can't talk about that right now. I'm too upset to talk about my sick tomatoes. The man would return to shallow waters grabbing pool noodles from unsuspecting children and chucking them into the deep end where the kids could not get them, only to then grab another child and repeat the process. The hub asked if he needed to come down to the Y, but I cautioned him that if the gentleman touched one of mine he would pull back a stump. I told them to stay as far away from him and scream "HELP" and "STRANGER" until i could get to them if it got to that point. Upon leaving, I made sure to express my opinion about the situation which was met with a yawn and a greatly underwhelmed attitude. Dads? Don't be that guy. Have fun with your kids but don't act like a hyped up Frances from Pee Wee's Big Adventure when he's playing in his swimming pool sized bathtub like a human Godzilla...or a mom will come at you like PeeWee. Think about it.

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Safari day

We needed to get out of the house today and really just didn't want to do soccer or yard work, so we decided to go on a safari. S stayed home this time. She needed to be a vegetable and catch up on some sleep from the mission trip week, so we loaded up the two youngers and headed on to Bybee, TN to the Briarwood Ranch and Safari Park. I have talked about this place before, though not for a while. The interesting thing is that within an hour and some change from our house there are two pretty nifty safari parks to visit. Probably more, but the others seem a little sketchy and maybe more in need of a visit from animal cruelty agencies. Briarwood is our personal favorite and we think of it as a special treat every so often. Everyone is very friendly and ready to answer your questions about the different animals they have. If they don't know the answer, they will find someone who does. The boy was especially excited as he had wanted to see animals in some capacity today. Because it is a special occasion kind of deal, we also pay the extra $5 per person to ride the wagon pulled by the tractor. That way our car doesn't get destroyed and we have knowledge of the animals driving us around the park. My favorites are always the bison and they did not disappoint today. They had a sweet little baby that tagged along while its parents snacked on feed:



They had a very rare white bison there also. It was being a bit of a bully, so I didn't get very good pictures. I kind of feared dropping my phone in the feed and then that long blue tongue it has would just slurp it right up. The llamas loved the boy. They also had a new baby that had just been born on Tuesday. It amazes me how quickly they grow into what just looks like a miniature version of the adults. It got a bit afraid a few times and retreated to nurse on mom for a while, but it sure was a cute little thing and peppy. The mom liked the boy a whole lot, but liked his feed bucket more:



It was a good day and a fun time as always. I highly recommend their experience.

On another animal related note, happy Triple Crown Winner after 37 years day! It was neat to watch and I have been a Bob Baffert fan for a long time. Not sure why...guess it is his confidence, training record and that shock of ultra white hair. Whatever it is, it was neat to watch history being made after so long.

Night all.
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She's baaa-aacck

My oldest returned from her week long mission trip today. Though a little weary and ready for her own bed, she had a very good time and reaped the physical and spiritual benefits of manual labor in the name of God. She showed me her many calluses from moving mulch around with a wheelbarrow and her poison ivy that she treated with Dawn dish detergent. I guess it does more than take grease...WHOOSH...out of your way. Sorry I had to do it. Side note, I sadly impressed my children today with the ability to sing the whole Big Red chewing gum jingle. Sorry about that. Anyway.... She is currently negotiating a deal to weed our flower beds and mulch them to try and earn some cash. The latest offer was for ten cents a weed. WIth the current state of our side flower bed and S's sketchy weed counting, we will have to dip into her college savings to pay her. The dog and the siblings were happy to see her and they waited an amazing four hours to start ribbing her and attempt to get under her skin. I'd call that a record.

We are going to leave soon to go see the boy at his last night of twilight Cub Scout camp. His group will be performing a Star Wars themed skit at their bonfire. It should be quite entertaining. He is beyond excited and will probably go through a period of mourning when it is over.

Night all.


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I have dishpan hands, no wait, dishpan cookies

So while I was sititng in our opthalmologist's office with the boy this morning, I couldn't stop thinking about a recipe I had pinned on Pinterest. Yes, I indulge in the obsession of Pinterest, but my interest ebbs and flows like my interest in CrossFit or Uggs...so mostly dormant with occasionalinspired searches that send me on wild goose chases that take me to some strange places inhabited by some dark pinner people. Anyway, I felt the need to bake these strange cookies I pinned and was struck with it in the middle of the boy's 12th reading of the eye chart. Unfortunate timing, because we had some other business out in the western part of the county, but we got home soon enough after an inspired trip to the grocery store. The kids and I sat down for a nice lunch and I had a much cherished cuddle for a bit with my G until she became too squirmy and I felt the call of the kitchen. Oh, Jenny of little reading comprehension, I should have believed what the recipe said and what it was called. Never one who has been good with math or spatial relations, I got out the trusty Kitchenaid to start creaming ingredients together. I quickly realized that when the recipe is for "Dishpan Cookies" that you really do need a dishpan. As space quickly became an issue, I sent G down in the basement for my big pan that I mix my Thanksgiving dressing in every year. Me: "Hurry! The flour is not mixing but gradually moving up the side of the bowl...we are at mixcon 5!" G: "Um, Mom, what? I mean, what are you saying? Do you just want a bowl?" Sigh. Me: "Yes. I just don't want want to start and stop the mixer. The flour is high enough that if I turn it off and start it again, we will all be floured and ready to be fried." G: "Sorry, but you could have just told me to get a bowl...not bakecon and all that." Me: "Well..it was 'mixcon' but whatever...thanks." Insert any number of deserved eye rolls here. I'll own them all. Anyhoo, the cookies turned out huge and chewy and tasty and very odd in texture. Corn flakes don't bake up quite how you think they might. Yes, I said cornflakes. And oatmeal. And lots of other good and bad for you stuff. The neighbors will be getting some doorstep treats tomorrow.

My oldest comes home tomorrow from her NC mission trip. It will be wonderful to have all of our heartbeats in the house again. They fight and bicker and pick at each other, but they love each other. And that is sweeter than any cookie I could ever bake.


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Jenny's My Name...Embarrassing My Children Is My Game

As I have discussed in previous posts, I am slightly obsessed with all things ukulele. I have three and look someday to procure a fourth. I lack a Concert pitched one and feel the need, though there is no need, for one to complete my quartet. I have no affiliation with any ukulele group or teacher...no plans to make a career of making a living playing(although that would be fun)...no plans to take my show on the road. What I do have is a desire to learn how to play my favorite songs on one of the ukuleles and use that newfound knowledge to spark a love of the song with the kids. BUT, what usually happens is that I receive looks from my children akin to those that one would give if they saw another human with a third eye or a second head. Or the look one would get if they were watching me play at the farmer's market's peak time whilst wearing my underwear. I would be annoyed with their reaction if it wasn't so absolutely hysterical. We got home from the swimming pool today and I sent the kids to get showered and de-chlorined. I took a few minutes to myself to rock out with my tenor uke and play "Time for me to fly" by REO Speedwagon. My eyes were closed, I was kind of nodding my head back and forth..."Time for me to fly...I've got to set myself free...." and I look up to see two faces, mouths hanging open, looking at me like I had an extra limb.

Me: Do you want to sing with me? You've heard this song enough
Them: Um, do you know any Sam Smith? Imagine Dragons?
Me: Nope. I know some Mavericks and Elvis and Bruce Springsteen.
G: Do you know "Thunder Road"?
Me: I'm in the process of learning that one. Not quite there yet.
Them: When you learn that one, we'll revisit the subject.
Me: That's awfully big of you. Thanks.

I think that it is in the parent handbook to embarrass your children with a few crazy things here and there. Keeps them on their toes and always understanding that their parents have a level of crazy they don't ever want to test. I kid, a little bit. I don't seek to constantly embarrass my children, but if they make it an issue to the point of being obnoxious, you better believe I will seek out every outlet.

I've played a lot today and my fingertips are sore. Time for bed and no more typing for the day. Night all.




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Ready to get started

I have had it with our basement. What was once a refuge for me and the hub with our workshop/craft room areas down there, has now become the place where what I call "guilt deposits" live. Very generous friends and relatives give us items that they no longer can house in their abodes and our basement has turned into a hoarder's paradise. My relaxation place has ceased to exist. I am to the point now of getting a professional to come in and help me get it out. While I would love to have a yard sale and make some extra money, it will just postpone getting it out of our house. I am perfectly happy to take it to KARM's thrift store. It not only helps them raise money, but it also helps our church. Their new program allows your church to get points every time someone donates in their name. Then, at certain points during the year, they will give gift cards to our church to distribute to people who come into our office in need. But ir needs to happen. I need my happy place back where I can sew and create and watch movies that no one else wants to see. That may be my month of June project.

We have not heard from the oldest today. I know they must all be tired and I certainly hope they are having fun. The hub and I are currently sitting at soccer practice. G is playing with a whole bunch of older kids, but seems to be holding her own. The boy is at day two of Twilight Camp. He had his shoes and backpack on 2.5hours before it was time to go. I think he enjoyed it, don't you?

Have a great evening and don't let your basement get cluttered up like ours is. Please.


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Twilightin'

This has been quite the eventful Monday. S left this morning to go on a mission trip with the youth group. She was very excited and a little nervous. She certainly is like her Nana and has a heart for missions for sure. My prayer for all of them is that they can have a transformative experience while sharing God's love with those who are broken and hurting. Getting that many youth in a place can be tricky with hormones and feelings and nerves and close quarters. I also pray they will grow closer as a youth group and as individual friends. After dropping her off at church, the boy and I got Italian meatloaf ingredients and came home to cook. He has been very nervous the last couple days about his impending well child visit and check about his ongoing stomach problems. I made the dumb mistake of telling him that he would probably be getting a finger prick...but probably not a shot. Should I have let it be a surprise? A don't know. After the constant questions and analysis of how the process of finger pricking goes down, I was regretting telling him at all. His appointment went fine as did the finger prick. We are now in the decision making process of restricting his diet and monitoring his tummy troubles that way or have blood tests done for food allergy issues. The doc doesn't feel that any of the major tummy issues(colitis, Crohn's)are the problem at this time. Something is going on, so we will be working to figure that out. After seeing the doc, he came home and collapsed on the couch with his frozen ice cream lemonade treat for being a good patient. I sat with him for a minute and noticed he was conked out. Relief had set in and he could finally relax. He snoozed for a while and then ate some dinner. He had to fuel up for Cub Scout Twilight camp. I dropped him off in the middle of chaos. I wanted to throw up...he looked a little nervous, but jumped right in. I got back in time to get the house ready for G to return from DC. They arrived home and she was a worn out puppy dog, but definitely chatty about her trip. After she was fed and showered, we piled in the car and picked the boy up at camp. Chaos was still all around, but he was smiling and excited about going again tomorrow.

I'm ready for all of our kids to be together again under one roof. Guess that'll be a while. Night all.


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