Monthly Archives: June 2009

So…guess who’s here right this very minute?

See? Not just a Fig Newton of my imagination. He’s really real. Actually, no one has actually introduced himself as “Ray.” So, Ray’s not here, but three of his closest friends are. Well, I guess they’re three of his closest friends. Surely Ray wouldn’t send any lesser friends than his very best. They’re all downstairs right now touching all our stuff and judging my stay-at-home abilities. At least, that’s what I’m imagining that packers and movers do. 

“Look at all this junk! People actually live like this? I can’t believe these Tinker Toys aren’t better organized. When’s the last time anyone cleaned underneath this washing machine? Look at all these sugary cereals. What kind of mom feeds her kids this trash? These baseboards are disgusting. What’s all this craziness stuffed into this closet?”

I don’t enjoy this very much.

By the way, I’ve reached the “I really just don’t care” part of this process. I started the move preparations the way I start every move’s preparations. I have high hopes of having everything greatly organized and its proper place. I expect to reach my destination with boxes packed neatly with only other like things. Last night at about 9:30 p.m., I reached the point in the move where I realize that Martha Stewart doesn’t live here and started throwing odds and ends into various and sundry Rubbermaid containers whose lids don’t match and labeled them “Miscellaneous Odds and Ends.” Yeah, that will be easy to figure out six weeks from now when I start opening these frantically packed boxes of crazy. But you know what? I don’t care any more. Just put it in a box and get it there the best way you know how, Ray. I’m tired, Ray. I’ve hit the wall and I “really just don’t care,” Ray. 

But, hey! I’m just happy that trained professionals are making sure that our worldly belongings make it safely to our next destination. That’s a good thing.  

But you know what’s not a good thing? I can’t hang out here Twittering and emailing and Google Reading and blogging with you as much as I’d like to this week. In fact that’s why I’m stopping by right now. I needed to tell you that I’ll be here and there and everywhere for the next little bit. Hopefully I’ll get to check in sooner rather than later, but if I don’t, please know that I’ll be back when one of these days is new. And I’ll have new ideas for you. And you’ll have things you’ll want to talk about. I will, too. 

Alicia at More Than Words is the hostess of  Friday Flashback.  The idea is to dig in your photo files for old pictures to share. I’m too tired for words right now so instead of rambling on incoherently, I decided to post a few pictures that make me smile. These pictures were taken in April 2007 on Grammy and Papa’s deck. They remind me of how incredibly blessed I am to be the mom of these three baby monkeys.  I needed to see these pictures this week  to remember that at times they can be in close enough proximity to one another that they can actually hug without choking, pinching, biting, hitting, poking, telling on, or licking one another. Yes, this week I actually heard myself say, “Please do not lick your brother.” It’s been a weird week. I think for today, I’d like to think of them as they were on this lovely spring afternoon: goofy little people who make me smile all the way to my heart.

I remember in vivid details the two times that I found out I was pregnant. I even remember that I bought the pregnancy test that told us that Firstborn was coming at Big Lots. I clearly remember wondering if I could be certain that I was going to be a mom on the word of a pregnancy test that had cost me less than two dollars.

I will always remember the night in Minute Maid Stadium that I cheered myself hoarse after Craig Biggio made his 3000th hit. I think I may have even shed a tear, even though two days before I had no earthly idea who Craig Biggio was. You’d have cried if you’d been there, too. It was very emotional for all the Astro fans and I got caught up in the emotion of the moment.

I remember where I was on the day that George Bush was inaugurated.  I had just given birth to my firstborn child a few hours before, even though I had begun labor with him the morning of the previous day. Apparently Firstborn had a vested interest in the highly contested election and refused to come out until the matter had been settled once and for all.

The moments when we become aware of major life-changing events become memories that we freeze in time to savor forever. Tomorrow, I will have just such a life-changing event. If all goes as planned, tomorrow, for at least one moment in time, all of the clothes that my family owns (except for whatever clothing we may be wearing) will be clean and put in their proper places. I know that good-time feeling won’t last long, and sooner or later someone will take a bath and create more laundry, but I hope you’ll join me in celebrating the occasion in your own way tomorrow.

It’s time to start packing the suitcases that will be our home-away-from-home for the next however many weeks, which meant that I had a lot of laundry to do over the past few days. I’m still not finished, so there’s still a chance I won’t have my moment tomorrow, but I’m closer than I’ve been in a very long time. I don’t mind the washing, drying, and folding, but I hate the putting away. Today while I was folding laundry, the kids were watching Max and Ruby. Do you know them? Maybe you’ve heard their theme song?

“Max and Ruby. Ruby and Max. Max and Ruby. Ruby and Max. Max and Ruby. Ruby, and her little brother Max. Max and Ruby.”

And someone got a nice fat  check for writing that little ditty. You’re welcome for the gift of that song running around like a lunatic in your brain for the rest of the day.

I don’t know why I bother analyzing kids’ shows, but I do, and several things bothered me about Max and Ruby today.

First of all, I think someone else is doing Ruby’s voice. I haven’t watched the show in awhile, and her voice didn’t sound the same to me today. 

Second of all, where are Max and Ruby’s parents? Their grandmother shows up fairly often, but we never see M & R’s parents. They certainly trust Ruby with a lot of  responsibility. It seems like a lot for a little bunny to handle.

Third, why hasn’t someone sent Max to a good speech therapist? He just doesn’t seem to have the vocabulary one would expect from a bunny his age. A lot of things could be cleared up easily if Max could only speak in complete sentences. Like today. We spent a good ten minutes looking for Ruby’s lost tooth when all along Max knew and was trying unsuccessfully to tell us.

These are the things I pondered today instead of making a plan for how I’m going to get an endless list of things done before Ray the Mover gets here on Monday. MONDAY?! I don’t think I can get there from here!!

P.S. This post may also explain why my children have been led to believe that our TV doesn’t show Caillou. A bald-headed four-year-old is just more than I can handle. Even on days that I feel like pondering.

As our time in Massachusetts comes to a close, I’m in the process of making my mental transition from this home to my next one. I find myself taking mental inventory of the things I’m really going to miss about living here and then try to counter each one of those with something I’ve missed about living in the South. Even though I’ve only lived here a year, I think New England may have changed me in some ways. For example….

Have any of you seen The Goode Family on ABC?

It isn’t the best TV show I’ve ever seen, but K and I can’t stop watching it because it could easily be set in Boston. Now I’m not saying that people in the South don’t care about the environment. I’m sure the South has more than a few environmentalists. It just seems that more people here take a much more concentrated interest in all things “green.” For example, curbside recycling is not available in the town where my parents live. It’s standard procedure here on garbage pick-up days. It’s extremely rare to find a trash can without a partner recycling can here. Even the potties are green. Want to see? Yes, I took a couple of pictures. Does this TRULY make me a blogger, Tiffani?  I actually have a couple of examples for you.

First of all, this is a potty from somewhere in Boston’s North End (which is also the best place to find the cannoli of your dreams which is probably not even appropriate to talk about in this paragraph). This potty has different flush options for #1 and #2. I’m not kidding! That’s what it says on the sign! Look!:

This is my favorite green potty. It is located at the Minuteman Trail visitor’s center closest to the Old North Bridge in Concord. This potty turns waste into compost. How cool is that?!:

I have a picture of the actual potty, but I thought maybe it was just too much. As I’m typing this sentence, I’m thinking that maybe this whole post is too much. Oh, well, I’m going with it.

So what effect has all this greenness had on the Snoodles?

Well, I get twitchy if I have to throw something recyclable away and I can’t find a recycle receptacle. I’ve been known to forage through the trash looking for things that should be recycled and not trashed. I’ve been amazed at how recycling reduces even the number of trash bags I need because I don’t have as much in my trash cans now.

Princess Diva has developed an internal alarm that goes off if she hears anyone running water for longer than a nanosecond. “Mom! We’re wasting water!!” 

Just for kicks, next time you see the little Snoodles, at a random point in conversation yell out, “Reduce!” and I’ll give you a quarter if they don’t instantly respond, “Reuse! Recycle!” I have no idea where they even learned that.

I feel guilty if I leave my reusable grocery bags at home when I go to the store:

I’ve started using more and more natural cleaning products like vinegar. My favorite store-bought cleaner is Mrs. Meyer’s Clean Day (geranium fragranced):

Am I as green as the Goodes? Good grief, no. I’m not even the greenest person I know. But I’m greener than I was when I got here. I tell you this not to impress you with my newfound love of conservation. I tell you this because I’m becoming aware that all these moves my family makes change me in little ways. The people I meet in the places I live make a lasting impression on who I am. So every time I move, I take away little regional sayings (like starting every sentence with “So…”),  new favorite foods and stores (Trader Joe’s, Lizzy’s Ice Cream), new-found interests and hobbies (Go, Sox!), and friendships that will forever be part of my heart (Love you, Hope Fellowship Friends!).

 I don’t know how many of my recycling ways I’ll be able to maintain after we move, but I can tell you that I was very happy to learn that even though it isn’t offered in the community, the base where we’ll be living offers free curbside recycling. (yay!) If nothing else, I’ve realized that as Christians we do have a responsibility to be good stewards of this earth that God created. If that makes me a light shade of green, I can live with that. It’s not easy being green, but once you start making a few little changes, it’s even harder to stop!

This post is dedicated to one of my favorite tree-huggers, Meredith. I applaud you in your efforts and hope to be more like you when I grow up, Mer. R, R, and R, Meredith. R, R, and R.

Ever so slowly but ever so surely we’re crossing items off our List of Unknowns. We don’t have orders we can actually touch, but we officially know that we’re moving back to the South in just a couple of weeks.  And just about an hour ago, this phone rang and this number appeared on the caller I.D.:

I couldn’t get a very good picture. Can you read that? It says “Ray the Mover.” I guess all the good mover names were taken? I felt a little less than confident initially, but K took the call and he reassured me that the representative he talked to seemed very knowledgeable and efficient. At least it wasn’t Mr. Zero.

So we not only have a location, we have movers who are willing to pack and load our stuff and hopefully take it there. Someone from the company (not Ray) is coming tomorrow afternoon to walk through the house to estimate how much packing stuff they need and how long the packing/loading will take. So yay! Progress!

Of course, the specific “there” is still on the List of Things We Do Not Know.  Hopefully we’ll have a house assignment sooner rather than later. I’m trying to pack the belongings we’ll take with us in the car as if we won’t see the rest of our stuff until some time late August. Hopefully we’ll be reunited before then, but we’ll just have to let the rest of the details fall into place. The key phrase in the second to last sentence was “trying to pack.” I’m having a hard time getting my act together. I’ve sat down to make a list several times but I get distracted by….air. 

So this week I should be getting for ready the movers to come and pack our earthly belongings. Next week, the packers and movers will do their thing, and then we’ll be leaving “The Bay State” on either the 4th or 5th of July. We’ll spend the next week in Washington D.C. because K has to attend a conference there. I was just looking online at the hotel where we’ll be staying in D.C. and it looks very nice. We’re going to look like the Clampetts arriving with our truck, trailer, and minivan and clomping through the lobby with our mismatched luggage. I want to care about this and yet I just can’t seem to get there from here. I just look at it as a gift to the hotel employees who have blogs. Our stay should give them plenty of writing material. I plan to drive down one day that week to spend some time with CPQ and to actually meet LaVidaCoffeeGal Kellie live and in person!! 

After that, details are sketchy as to the route we’ll take to get home. If K is able to leave with us when the conference is over, we’ll visit his family on the way to our final destination. If he has to stay, I may get to go another route and maybe meet Tiffani on my way home. These are still on the List of Things We Do Not Know. But we have a destination and people to help us get there, and for this, I’m very grateful!

My Children’s Daddy and My Daddy

Undeserved Gifts from My Heavenly Daddy

No other girl on earth is more blessed than I am.

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!

Is it just me or do you ever feel weird trying to explain your blog friends to people who don’t read blogs? 

“So a friend of mine just told me…well, actually, she’s one of my blog friends. We haven’t met in real life….”

I think it may be the “in real life” part that worries people. Sometimes I get the same look that Big Bird used to get when he tried to convince the others on Sesame Street that Mr. Snuffleupagus had just been there. Of course, that was back in the good old days before everyone could see “Snuffy.” If you ask me, I think Sesame Street may have jumped the shark when they made Mr. Snuffleupagus visible to everyone. But I didn’t come here to talk about Sesame Street. What was I talking about?  Oh, right. Blog friends.

To say that my blog friends are friends that I haven’t met “in real life” implies that blogworld isn’t part of reality, which makes it a half step away from Dungeon and Dragons. I would like to offer my apologies to any of my friends (in real life or otherwise) who play D&D. (But, really?)

I understand why many people don’t understand the attraction of blogging and are hesitant to accept that people you meet through the internet could be considered to be “friends.”  I certainly hope that anyone who “meets” someone through the internet is cautious about divulging personal information. Unfortunately, people aren’t always as they seem. And cyber friendships are no substitute for flesh and blood friendships…people who can literally be there for each other in good times and bad.

And yet….

I really didn’t have any expectations about this blog when I started it last November. I had been thinking for awhile about starting a blog as a place to just write down some thoughts. I’m pretty sure Jeff Noble was the first person to put the thought in my head, but I didn’t do anything with that thought until my best friend started a blog. “Oh, why not?” I thought. I didn’t even tell my “real life” friends that I had started writing here. I told my parents and a very few others.  

I “wondered” on my first blog day what I was even doing.  I have a love/hate relationship with writing and always have. I’m still asking myself some of those very same questions about blogging.

And yet….

More than once, I’ve thought that maybe this was a silly idea. More than once, I’ve become interested in who was stopping by to read and how many comments a post received. More than once, I’ve had junior high flashbacks where I just wanted to be cool and popular and liked by everyone. Yeah, I’ve had to take more than one step back to reevaluate what I’m doing here.

And yet….

Here’s the thing. Somewhere along these 100 posts, something has happened. Complete strangers have become very dear to me. Posts that I intended to say one thing took a very different turn somewhere in the typing and I was changed. Emotions and thoughts that couldn’t find their places made themselves at home here. As the Princess Diva would say, “Well, I sure didn’t see that coming.”

Last Thursday, I hit a wall. I won’t go into details; some things really shouldn’t be blogged. But I desperately needed a divine intervention to help me through a difficult situation. CPQ knew I needed some prayer support so she tweeted our Tweeps. With the exception of one, every single Tweep was a friend I had met through Blogburg (Blogville, Blogland, BlogWorld: whatever you call it.). She didn’t give a single detail except to say that I needed prayer right that minute. My friends stopped, dropped, and prayed for me…..someone they’ve never met IRL (that’s “in real life,” in case you aren’t as hip as I am). There were several other blog friends that I would have been just as confident asking to pray for me at that time, many of whom were complete strangers a few months ago.

Are my blog friends more precious to me than my other friends? Good grief, no. I think we’ve covered this before. I don’t do favorites. I think one of the neatest (does anyone beside me still say “neatest”?) things about this whole blog experience is that some people I really know have become blog friends. Candace and CPQ may never have met this side of heaven if it hadn’t been for Snoodlings. (You’re welcome, girls.) I’m so grateful to have both sets of friends in my life: the ones I’ve met and the ones I haven’t met yet.

I don’t believe in accidents. I believe that it isn’t coincidence that several of my blog friends are walking or have walked similar roads to the one I’m walking. We can pray for each other’s past and present hurts because we have been there or are living through them now. We know how to specifically encourage and pray for one another. No. I don’t believe in accidents.

So this is my 100th post. Have all 100 posts been pieces of literary genius? Hardly.  I’d venture to say I have more than a few posts that could warrant “do-overs.” I know that I didn’t do any of the traditional 100 Post things that bloggers usually do. 100 Facts About Me? Please. I was stumped after I’m left-handed and my parents could never seem to agree on how to pronounce my middle name. Riveting stuff, right? I figure if you want to know something I haven’t already told you that you’ll probably ask. I didn’t do a giveaway because I still haven’t mailed CPQ’s last birthday card (her birthday is in December). I did want to take this opportunity to say how very grateful I am for the friends I have here. Some I’ve known for many years. Some I’ve known for just a few months. Some are old friends that I’m so happy to have back in my life. Some are new friends that I’m so very blessed to have in my life. (Is anyone else singing that Beatles’ song? The one that was the theme song for that TV show “Providence”?)

So thanks for continuing to read my Snoodlings. I’m so very glad to have you here.

Hey! Missed me? How embarrassing would it be if you hadn’t noticed that I haven’t been here in just over a week? If you didn’t notice, just don’t tell me, okay? I’m a little fragile.

I have missed all of you. I’ve had plenty to say, but not enough time to say it. I feel like I’m a 45 record stuck on 78 speed. Records were like CDs back in the day, children. Just for giggles we used to play our records on the wrong speeds so that they either sounded like someone walking through mud or the Chipmunks. We’d laugh ourselves silly. We didn’t have cable. Or blogs.

So what have The Snoodles been doing?

Well, this past weekend we went to Newport, Rhode Island, where we had lunch with Barr AND Ruth. You remember Barr, our Gentle Giant Friend, right? Well, meet his beautiful and wonderful wife, Ruth.

That bright light behind me? Why, that’s the glow of my vibrant personality coming forth like the noonday sun. Or it might be a reflection of the flash off the mirror behind us.  I can’t be sure.

Oh, sweet Ruth. How we love her! It was so wonderful to get a chance to spend some time with our friends one more time before we have to move.

We had to run to get away from the paparazzi who had discovered we were in Newport….

We were able to lose them at Brenton Park where we caught our breath and watched this:

The temperature was barely in the 60s but the Little Snoodles really wanted to get their feet in the sand. 

“Just your feet at the edge! Don’t get your pants wet,” I said.

“Never mind!”

Oh, well. As you can see, I forgave him. (I’m not trying to get him in a headlock. That’s really a hug. I have no idea what’s in his mouth. I don’t think he’s started chewing tobacco.):

Looking for one more rock or shell to stick in my pocket for mom to wash and dry in her machines when we get home:

This week has been a week of “lasts.” Yesterday we had our last t-ball and baseball times at the YMCA with Mr. Pat. We’re going to miss him so very much.

These next two pictures are blurry, unfortunately, but I wanted you to see them anyway. When Princess Diva makes it to a base, she is her own best cheerleader. 

Oh, these little Snoodles make me laugh!

Tonight, we enjoyed the first watermelon of summer (even though it isn’t officially summer and it was only in the 60s today):

I’m still reading your blogs (those of you that have them) and I read my email and keep up with my Tweeps on Twitter, but I’m not writing here or commenting on your blogs as much as I’d like to be. For one thing, I have many long To Do lists to get ready for the impending move….And, thank you, Lord, tonight we found out that official location of K’s job has been announced so we at least know where we’re moving. We don’t have a house or even official dates for the movers to come get our stuff (we’re hoping for week after next, please?) but we’re making progress.  And we know that we’re going to be living close to my parents which makes my heart so very, very happy.  So, some of the reasons I’m less available right now are very good and busy ones. 

But the last week has been a difficult one for me and for my family. Life is still brutal, man. If I can be completely honest with you, lately it feels like the same God who lifts my head is sometimes holding it under the water. I’m not saying that’s theologically correct. I’m just saying that sometimes that’s how I feel. Please don’t misunderstand. I know that God loves me. I know that God is the only reason I have breath in my lungs. I know that He is above me, before me, in me, around me….It’s just hard sometimes. But as my friend John Piper tweeted me this morning, “Am I more amazed that I am forgiven than that I’ve been hurt?” Did John tweet that to you, too? Actually, John Piper is not even following me. In case you wondered. But what he said this morning? It helped me gain a little perspective today and put an abrupt end to my pity party that had gone way past its prime. Truthfully, I’m glad it’s over. I didn’t even want to be there anymore and I’m the one who threw the party. And you know what I’m being reminded of on a daily basis? This world with all its hurts and pains? This is so not my home. 

I tell you that to tell you this: The Snoodles would greatly appreciate your continued prayers. We have some happy moments in our future and also some that will be trying. We have to say some goodbyes before we say some hellos. We’ll share some laughs and shed some tears. We  anticipate some physical and emotional exhaustion in the days ahead of us. We will be glad for every prayer that is offered up on our behalf. I’m so very thankful for you and that you stopped by today.

Well, I just barely made it in time to do 10 on the 10th! I spent most of the day in the kitchen: cleaning, sorting, organizing. I’m trying to work through one room at a time, getting ready for our upcoming move: the not-sure-when, still not-officially-sure-where moving adventure. (yay, adventure! sigh.)

I had originally planned to list random things that I wonder for no apparent reason. For example, I wonder if I should make a plan for if I’m ever in a coma that one of my best friends will be sure to tweeze my eyebrows so that they don’t run down and meet my eyelashes. And make sure I don’t get trailer trash roots. I mean, it’s important to look your best, even if you’re in a coma. Please don’t ask me why I’ve wondered if I should make these arrangements. I have no earthly idea why I think of the things I do. When I told K about my random list of wonderings he suggested this list instead. 

So, tonight I proudly bring you:

Ten Funny Things My Sweet Kentucky-Native Mother-in-Law Says on a Regular Basis:

1. Ugly as a mud fence.

    (I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a mud fence, but apparently they are not much to look at.)

2. Dumb as a bag of hammers.

3. Dumb as a box of rocks.

   (I don’t know why hammers come in bags and rocks come in boxes.)

4. Dead as Julius Caesar.

    (That would indeed be dead. Would it be more dead than Moses though?)

5. Nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

6. Drunk as Cooter Brown.

    (I have no idea who Cooter Brown is/was.)

7. Katie, bar the door!

    (As in “Watch out, here comes trouble!” It’s not a simile, but she says it a lot!)

8. Finer than frog hair.

    (I was unaware that frogs had hair.)

9. Slick as a ribbon.

And my personal favorite:

10. As useless as hip pockets on a girdle.

So do any of your mothers-in-law speak in similes?

Speaking of similes, I’m as full as a tick. My husband and I had a date too night and I think this feeling I’m experiencing right this minute? It just might be gluttony. And I’m as tired as a….as a person who’s too tired to think of a witty simile, so I think I’ll close now. I hope you all have a restful night and wake up to a beautiful morning! For more 10 on the 10th, be sure to visit my friend Meredith at life@7000feet!