<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405</id><updated>2012-02-16T15:06:44.968-06:00</updated><category term='visits'/><category term='healing'/><category term='Oswald'/><category term='Sarah Jean'/><category term='birthdays'/><category term='CJ'/><category term='helpful hints'/><category term='wiener dog'/><category term='mess-ups'/><category term='Chunky Monkey'/><category term='Thanksgiving'/><category term='mom'/><category term='Bottles'/><category term='Close calls'/><category term='LIFE Group'/><title type='text'>Mum's the Word</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-7390462379045513489</id><published>2011-08-28T13:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-28T14:06:27.848-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hurry Up and Wait!!!</title><content type='html'>The process of enrolling in K12 seemed simple enough: fill out the application, provide all the necessary paperwork like birth certificate, shot records, report card, etc., have a telephone conference and viola! Enrollment takes place. I'm sure in non-peak times, it is easy, but it is proving to be very slow and a little difficult right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish we had completed this process a long time ago! I understand that the volume for enrollment is way up right now and that my indecision has cost us valuable school time, but the negative effects of no school are catching up with us!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lula is bored. I have tried to do a bible lesson in addition to the Spelling and Grammar that a friend who has a 3rd grader in K12 gave us, but really, it has only taken us a maximum of 2 hours to complete all of that plus an art session everyday! She is beginning to miss her friends and second guess her choice to homeschool. I knew that this would happen to some degree, but hoped that the business of school would distract her long enough to help us get involved in some homeschool groups and make some friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are going to try to have some playdates and soon my mom will be coming for a visit. My hope is that she will be fine until we receive our supplies, but at this point, I really don't know when that will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my advise for anyone considering K12- &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;sign up early&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am grateful for the blessings of my life. My husband, my children, my home and the comfort that all God has provided us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am praying for friends and aquaintances and their families who are dealing with cancer and other illnesses. I pray for their healing. I pray for strength and courage and that they will find God's peace. I am also praying that our enrollment in K12 will happen tomorrow and that we can have our supplies in hand by the end of the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May God bless and keep you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-7390462379045513489?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/7390462379045513489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=7390462379045513489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/7390462379045513489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/7390462379045513489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2011/08/hurry-up-and-wait.html' title='Hurry Up and Wait!!!'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-8773900771646077501</id><published>2011-08-26T18:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T19:18:32.832-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Faith Like a Little Child</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;Mark 10:15 and Luke 18:17 say, "Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have often heard of these passages and have known it to mean that we should have faith as a child has faith in order to enter the kingdom of God. I admit, I have not pondered this much, but instantly drew upon the passages today as my daughter reminded me that we may be struggling with our own fears, anxieties and problems, but there are those whose struggles and problems are far greater than any we are facing and our faith will bring us all through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lula's bestie is an adorable and charming little girl named Anne from England. Her family moved here 4 years ago and they were in Kindergarten together. The two became fast friends and were so close that the teacher frequently misused their names in class and even in our parent teacher conferences (their real names actually do sound similar). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sweet young girl was diagnosed that year with a rare eye disorder that we learned would eventually take her sight completely. We were heartbroken for the family and for Anne. We hurt for her parents and mourned all the things that she would never experience like nature walks, driving a car or looking into the eyes of the man or child she loves. It is human nature to feel sorry for someone in this situation and we all do, but her parents have taught us that more than our pity, she just needs our love and encouragement. And as children do, she just gets on with things! She has shown courage and a beautiful spirit as her sight has declined in only 3 short years to shadows and the detection of movement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite Anne attending a different school for the last two years and into the future, she and Lula have remained steadfast in their friendship. They have both made other friends, but none compare to each other. They formed a bond paramount to sisterhood at the tender age of 6 that is unshaken by the fact they see each other only a couple times per month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is this bond that stirred Lula's heart today as she, completely out of the blue, told me that she wished she had a time machine. When I asked her why, she said that even though there must be something good to come of Anne's blindness, she would take Anne back to the time of Jesus so He could heal her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I picked my jaw up off the ground and dried the tear that had sprung to my eye, I realized what a special gift "Faith" is through the eyes of a child. Lula knows there is no such thing as a time machine, but she knows that she knows that if there were, Jesus would heal her friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-8773900771646077501?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/8773900771646077501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=8773900771646077501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/8773900771646077501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/8773900771646077501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2011/08/faith-like-little-child.html' title='Faith Like a Little Child'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-5644983935905442031</id><published>2011-08-19T08:31:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-19T08:42:10.973-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mirkes Academy is Now Official!</title><content type='html'>Well, we are off and running!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We thought, prayed and drew on our homeschool friend's knowledge and made the decision to homeschool our 8 yo and send our 5 yo to brick and mortar Kindergarten! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was "Meet the Teacher" night for TI and we proclaimed out loud our intentions for the first time to other parents, staff and friends for Lula. It was exciting, but a little scary and the reactions were mixed. While some seemed happy for us and supported the decision, others faces were clouded with disapproval. This does not sway or bother me, as only we can make the right decision for our daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really looking forward to our days of homeschooling and the adventures that come with it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have decided to go with K12 right now, in order to get on our feet. I plan to continue to investigate all our options and could possibly switch to something else, but feel that the first step of bringing Lula home was most important. Yes, it was the easy way "in" to homeschooling, but at this point, we just needed "in".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heeere WE GOOOOOOOOO!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-5644983935905442031?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/5644983935905442031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=5644983935905442031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/5644983935905442031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/5644983935905442031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2011/08/mirkes-academy-is-now-official.html' title='The Mirkes Academy is Now Official!'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-7014012197104928296</id><published>2011-08-15T22:12:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T07:06:49.679-05:00</updated><title type='text'>K2 Or K12?  They are both a HUGE leap!</title><content type='html'>8-23-11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***I actually wrote this post last week, but didn't publish it until today.**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8-15-11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;. After much consideration.....the decision has been made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent time this morning with an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;acquaintance&lt;/span&gt; and as we talked I could tell that we have the potential to be great friends! She very willingly and lovingly guided me through the myriad of choices for home school &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;curriculum&lt;/span&gt; like a seasoned veteran! She emphasized the importance of a classical education and pointed out that children who complete &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;homeschool&lt;/span&gt; are actually recruited by colleges. She gave me a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;curriculum&lt;/span&gt; to use if I wanted it, showed me examples of others, talked me through a day in the life, supported my decision and listened to all my woes and reasons for wanting to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;homeschool&lt;/span&gt;. She armed me with some questions to ask at the informational meeting I went to today for K12 and assured me that no matter what I choose, she will be there to support me. What a blessing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The I went to the K12 meeting and saw my other homeschooling friend there. She is entering her second year homeschooling and was also very supportive and encouraging and was so excited that we were there! She was kind enough to let me come over and look at all her materials so that I could get an idea of what a Virtual Charter Academy was like. It was wonderful to be able to touch and see first hand the quality of the materials I would be using. I am truly grateful for her time and kindness, too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see benefits to both ways of homeschooling. One allows complete freedom and one allows freedom, but with guidance and some accountability. Knowing myself the way I do (sometimes needing some guidance and accountability), and recognizing that my husband needs the structure of a published &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;curriculum&lt;/span&gt; to feel comfortable in this &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;endeavor&lt;/span&gt;, the decision seems right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there we have it. K12, it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-7014012197104928296?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/7014012197104928296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=7014012197104928296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/7014012197104928296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/7014012197104928296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2011/08/k2-or-k12-they-are-both-huge-leap.html' title='K2 Or K12?  They are both a HUGE leap!'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-5576638041747767530</id><published>2011-08-13T00:11:00.015-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-14T17:11:52.797-05:00</updated><title type='text'>RENEWAL</title><content type='html'>WELL, WELL , WELL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I certainly did have good intentions of blogging regularly, didn't I?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much has happened since I posted last! I have had another baby and he has had three birthdays! Get out your wet noodles and start slingin'!!! But beware as you read...it's a humdinger and it is LONG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As one can imagine, three years worth of joys, decisions, injuries, illnesses, struggles, accomplishments, and personal victories cannot be adequately peared down into a few paragraphs. I think it would be wise to just recall and journal about them as they come naturally, so that is what I will aspire to for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going forward from today, though, there are several things that are important for me to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is important for me to explain my new picture and this post's title. It is important for me to write things down, because apparently the last time I posted I only &lt;em&gt;thought&lt;/em&gt; that I had a bad memory. Now it is official! It is important for me to keep track of all the feelings and experiences that I will be having soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is important. It is critical. It. Is. Essential!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I keep reminding myself of how important it is, I am hoping that it will become a priority. That I will be able to continue posting what will hopefully be a window for my children to view the complex scenery that is my mind and to understand how very much I love and value them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RENEWAL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We recently traveled to Alaska on a cruise. This trip could not have come at a better time for me. I had just finished a 3 month stint of single parenting our three kids due to a temporary assignment CJ was on. During this time, I thought it might be a good idea to take said children galavanting all over the country and proved to myself that I am stronger and braver than I give myself credit for!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strength and courage aside, I was pretty worn out from my extended visit in "Mommyland" and desperately needed a break. I was sad and lonely and quite depressed, really. I have for a long while been very concerned what I will do for myself when my kids are grown and all in school. I allowed my selfishness, stress and emotions to take over and I became a screeching drill sergeant that was clearly becoming difficult to bear for the munchkins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the two weeks before we left for Alaska, I knew of three children under the age of 8 that were taken too soon. A baby with a brain tumor, a 2 y/o with a heart condition, and an 8 y/o drowning victim. This harsh reminder that children are suseptible to death forced me to look at my relationship with my kids and evaluate where it might be lacking- and to FIX IT! Those three mothers would give anything for just one more day with their babies and here I am with three healthy children that most of the time I couldn't wait to get away from! I also ran into a friend that I hadn't seen in over ten years, out of the blue and in an obscure place. The last time I saw her I ran into her out of the blue and in an obscure place after not seeing her for ten years. These were to be the beiginnings of a transformation within my soul and a journey of renewal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I flew away to Alaska, my heart and mind were slowly coming to terms with what had so disturbingly slapped me across the face...I was failing my children. I was taking them for granted and worse, was taking my emotion out on them. Good, bad, or downright ugly, they were having to &lt;em&gt;endure&lt;/em&gt; me. That is not something I am proud to say or that I thought I ever &lt;em&gt;would&lt;/em&gt; say, but it is true. I am truly sorry for how far I let myself slide off course and I am determined to right this vessel!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My marriage has been through a lot the last 4 years. I will not ever go into that here, but suffice to say that "endure" had become a word well known by more than just the children. I also comtemplated this as we traveled. Our marriage is much better now and I had something up my sleeve that I hoped would be as meaninful to CJ as it was to be for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All these things (and more) weighed heavily on my mind. I hoped that the vacation would provide some relief to the stress that I had been going through. I had no idea that I would land in Seattle one person and leave Alaska someone entirely changed and...RENEWED.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had amazing experiences in Alaska. I hope to post in more detail each event, but for this story, I need to focus on one. Salmon fishing. CJ and I went Salmon fishing and had what is most likely, going to be a day that I remember on my death bed. Yes. It was &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; powerful. We saw a whale not 50 feet from our boat! Six people caught 36 fish in under three hours! I had a spiritual experience with an eagle that I believe to the bottom of my soul was my dad reaching across the veil to let me know that he is with me still!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any one of those things would be amazing, but we got to experience them all in one day! And as we learned more about Alaska and how important the salmon are to her welfare, I began to see a connection. Salmon are the symbol for renewal in the native cultures of Alaska. It seems fitting that we should have such a momentous day centered around renewal when there was so much of me that needed to be renewed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the trip went on, the events unfolded, and the sheer beauty of that place gave me pause; I came to realize that the force greater than myself was revealing to me a new plan for my life. I thought about the trip and how the symbolism of the salmon could help me change what needed changing, right the wrongs, and heal my Lula Belle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My limit the day we fished was 6 salmon. I caught 6 salmon and 1 rockfish. I believe that God gave me 6 salmon to help me renew 6 areas of my life:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)My mind- through learning. simply listening to my own thoughts, and the prospect of being mentally challenged everyday while raising my children in a whole new way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) My body- by realizing that I need to nourish and care for my body in a more responsible manner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) My spirit- by releasing stress and anger that had made me behave in ways that I don't want to behave,opening myself to true forgiveness and healing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)My marriage- by concentrating on the bond between us and renewing our vows to strengthen and remind us of what we mean to each other&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)My children- by the Grace of God alone, I have had a major shift in how I think about those kids. I no longer desire to spend time away from them, but instead have found myself ready to commit to a new lifestyle that would mean they were with me every minute of every day- and it makes my heart happy to think of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6)My commitment- these huge changes could not be possible without a level of commitment that I think was out of my reach before. And with the renewal of these other five areas, I feel the strength and ability rising within me to commit to being the wife and mother that God wants me to be and that my family needs me to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also said I caught a rockfish. Of all the people on the boat-&lt;strong&gt; I&lt;/strong&gt; caught it. This fish became the bait for the eagle that swooped down right in front of me to feed upon it. It was the instrument that God used to allow me, for one brief and glorious moment to connect with my dad, who loved eagles so much and passed away in 2004; to FEEL daddy's presence and the power of God! I am truly thankful, Lord, for these gifts you have revealed to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RENEWAL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I think I may have painted myself as a pretty poor mother here, but I wasn't. I have always loved them, always tried to treat them with kindness and respect, and never abused them; but the stress of three young kids, largely on my own, did wear me to a point of diminished capacity. However, I no longer see my children as stressful work! I see them as these beautiful gifts that have been entrusted to me by God. Gifts that are all wrapped up inside beautiful, colorful wrapping with a glorious surprise inside- and part of the gift is that I get to help shape the suprise! I have so much more patience, tolerance and desire to be and do more for them. I can see clearly things that used to elude me about their behavior. I actually WANT to be with them, like, ALL THE TIME!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we have been home, I have been ill and have had even more time to reflect on the renewal of my life. The renewal of me, the renewal of relationships; like the long lost friend that clearly, God wants to be a part of my life. She has already inspired me. Through her and all that happened in Alaska, I have made a decision that had been floating in my head for many months and will drastically change our lives. All of our lives. I want to homeschool my children and I feel that I have the ability, strength and courage to do it well. The reasons why are fare for a whole other post, but I have thought long and hard about it, prayed about it and feel this is the path that renewal demands. "Mommyland" is no longer a derogetory term. It is the place in which I desire to dwell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RENEWAL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a simple sounding word, yet such a complex process. It involves letting go and grabbing hold at the same time. It is a putting to rest and and awakening. A light in the darkness. It is a long lost friend. It is an eagle. It is a fish. It is a relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-5576638041747767530?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/5576638041747767530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=5576638041747767530' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/5576638041747767530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/5576638041747767530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2011/08/renewal.html' title='RENEWAL'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-3365696624694309496</id><published>2009-03-17T18:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T18:28:01.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday!!!!</title><content type='html'>Happy Birthday, Sarah Bear! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow!  14 months of silence and then two posts in one day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-3365696624694309496?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/3365696624694309496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=3365696624694309496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/3365696624694309496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/3365696624694309496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2009/03/happy-birthday.html' title='Happy Birthday!!!!'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-729811068440925664</id><published>2009-03-16T23:43:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T23:54:39.193-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Waiting Game</title><content type='html'>Well, I am off to a good start, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has already been almost a week since I took Chunky Monkey to the dentist!  We were thrilled to discover that there were no signs of a boken tooth or broken bone, so the dentist says that we just. have. to. wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the tooth sets itself back into the socket in a month, all will be right with the world.  If not, we need to look at anchoring or extracting the tooth. I will not allow myself to consider either of those scenarios, so I am pleased to say that in this case, denial is workin' just fine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The appointment is set, the anxiety level is down, and life goes on...albeit a bit more cautiously.  I find myself following the poor child like a puppy to make sure he doesn't fall and hurt himself and am on strict orders from the dentist that he is not tear any foods with the front teeth.  Meal times have digressed to the early toddler stage of cutting everything into tiny, bite sized pieces; which fits so nicely into my already chaotic world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, well.  A little more chaos to help my son save his tooth...I'll gladly bear that burden to avoid having to have the tooth fairy visit him first.  The drama that would surely follow would be Lula's finest work to date, I'm sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-729811068440925664?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/729811068440925664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=729811068440925664' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/729811068440925664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/729811068440925664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2009/03/waiting-game.html' title='The Waiting Game'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-3431852955623590490</id><published>2009-03-11T06:43:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T13:24:23.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All Is Not Lost</title><content type='html'>It is 6:44 am.  I have been up since 5 o'clock reading my old blog posts and wishing that I had kept blogging for the last 14 months.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much has happened and since my memory is not that of a 35 year old woman, but more like an 80 year old woman, (due to sleep deprivation, lack of exercise and poor eating habits)it would have been nice to record the events of the last 14 months for future journeys down memory lane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all is not lost....we can start with today, right?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm back and though I have no readers at all, my memories shall from today forward be recorded and available for recall at my whim and fancy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'll begin with why I was up at 5 o'clock.   Our 7 month old slept through the night for a second night in a row and woke needing a feed at 5.  I fed him and didn't feel like going back to sleep because the anxiety of what was to come later this morning had my brain working overtime.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, although it has been 14 months since my last post, Chunky Monkey has not changed a bit in the regard that he is still Chunky and is still a relentless climber and stunt boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I arrived to pick him up from preschool only to be met at the door by the preschool director, which is never a good thing.  As I listened to what she described as "a little fall" I felt the pull of my child from down the hall.  He needed me.  It was all I could do to listen as she explained that he had fallen on the concrete while pushing a Tonka truck and hit his mouth hard on the patio.  They had administered first aid and tried to calm him the best they could while they waited for me to arrive.  When she finished, I practically ran to his room to find him and survey what I had in my mind's eye as a catastrophic injury.  It is never as bad as a mother imagines, but he did look like he'd gone three rounds with an angry third grader.  I scooped him up and tried to get him to let me look into his mouth, but he was in pain and wanted no part of cooperating.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't until we arrived home that he finally let me get a peek at his gums and teeth and to my horror, his upper right front tooth was so loose that it reminded me of when I knew it was time to wrap a string around a tooth and slam the door!  I immediately called the dentist and although it was only 2:45 in the afternoon, the dentist was gone for the day!  WHAT???!!!  I calmly explained the situation to a very kind receptionist, and she paged him to see if he wanted to return to look at Chunky's tooth.  What do you think the answer was?  Well, you would be right....he said it could wait until the morning! So, she set up an appointment for 8 am.  Apparently, the dentist believed that it really didn't make a difference if he saw him right away or in the morning.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the tooth was damaged enough, it wouldn't matter when he pulled it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comforting, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this is what my anxiety is building about this morning.  Will my sweet 2 year old have a gap in his smile that should rightfully be Lula Belle's first?  Will he have to go through the pain of an extraction to already tender gums?  Will the dentist be able to save the tooth only to have it discolor and be a constant reminder of how accident-prone he is? Will said dicoloration create anxiety within him about his smile?  These are a mother's worries.  The two year old sleeps peaceefully unaware of any of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now we wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-3431852955623590490?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/3431852955623590490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=3431852955623590490' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/3431852955623590490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/3431852955623590490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2009/03/all-is-not-lost.html' title='All Is Not Lost'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-1934612064075477375</id><published>2007-12-05T10:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T10:30:02.754-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='visits'/><title type='text'>"MUM" Really Is the Word</title><content type='html'>Two days after arriving home from Texas, my mother came in for a visit. I was excited to see her and hopeful that we would have a good visit, but a little fearful that we may have some disagreements. Since my dad died, we have had a bit of a tense relationship. I have disapproved of many of her choices and have tried to be supportive, but it has been difficult at times. I think she knew she was making some bad choices too, and would become defensive if approached about any of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, our visit has been conflict free and we have had a wonderful time Christmas shopping and wrapping, baking, playing with the kids and doing other fun things. We have had a couple discussions about things going on in her life and it sounds as if she had finally emerged from the fog that was clouding her judgement. She is ready to make some positive changes in her life and is no longer defensive about the past. She actually admits that she acted inappropriately!  Whatever revelation she has had, I am grateful for it. I feel as if I have my "mum" back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She flies home today and I am really looking forward to our next visit and a renewed relationship in between. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Healing is a wonderful thing that when given the chance it needs through time and patience is worth the wait and effort. I feel like my dad is &lt;em&gt;finally&lt;/em&gt; smiling down on all of us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-1934612064075477375?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/1934612064075477375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=1934612064075477375' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/1934612064075477375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/1934612064075477375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/12/mum-really-is-word.html' title='&quot;MUM&quot; Really &lt;em&gt;Is&lt;/em&gt; the Word'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-4593602828585662756</id><published>2007-11-22T21:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T10:44:16.023-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thanksgiving'/><title type='text'>Happy Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>Happy Thanksgiving to all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you all had the pleasant day that I did! The work was well shared, the company great, the food was delicious and the clean-up a breeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids are in bed and I am watching my family play golf on the Wii. Watching four adults become enthralled by an interactive video game is quite amusing! What is more amusing are the characters (called a "Mii")that they have come up with. You can design the way you want your Mii to look and some of the guys have opted for self-look alike mii's, some have made themselves into what look like hooligans with a five o'clock shadows in drag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this day, I am thankful for the Wii , for it has brought hours of enjoyment to all today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for the bountiful blessings God has given to my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for pack-n-plays and turkey fryers. Both made my life more bearable today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful that my mom decided to come for a visit today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for the love of family, the satisfying growth of relationships, and the extremely full belly that is making my eyes heavy and my mind weary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am especially thankful today for our newest addition..."Pumpkin Pie", who will make his/her debut sometime in late June.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a beautiful day. Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Day that the Lord hath made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;OK...here's a post script note...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;I was so tired when I was typing this post that I actually fell asleep at the end.  I spelled "is" wrong, failed to capitalize the Lord's name and had a "hanging Chad" at the end there.  I thought I had pushed "save", but actually published, so beautiful Farm Wife told me what she was thankful for (and I share her senitment), but I actually didn't mean to do it.  But since I did, let's hear from the rest of you one thing you're thankful for! Can't wait to read them!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-4593602828585662756?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/4593602828585662756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=4593602828585662756' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/4593602828585662756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/4593602828585662756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/11/happy-thanksgiving.html' title='Happy Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-7195197970168770126</id><published>2007-11-21T12:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T12:58:11.110-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mess-ups'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='CJ'/><title type='text'>Faux Paux</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a crazy day. We were trying to get packed to head to the Poke Prince and Princess' house and I somehow found time to go to the mall, clean up a couple really big messes and talk to several friends on the phone. I did &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; however, find time to wish my beloved husband a happy birthday until after 2 pm even though I had spoken to him several times by then. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry, my dear. I thought about you and your birthday many time, hence the trip to the mall and some of the phone calls. I simply neglected to tell you that I thought of it. I love you very much though, and you were on my mind all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CJ's plane arrived late, but it arrived. Then we left for Texas immediately, even though it was 9:15 pm. We had quite a trip, which I will post about later, but for now, I just want to send my love for my dear hubby out into the great beyond and re-wish him a very Happy Birthday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-7195197970168770126?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/7195197970168770126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=7195197970168770126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/7195197970168770126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/7195197970168770126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/11/faux-paux.html' title='Faux Paux'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-4586064744694192282</id><published>2007-11-12T08:12:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T08:45:27.171-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sarah Jean'/><title type='text'>Time Marches On</title><content type='html'>Well, we are mid-visit with Sarah jean! We are having a great time! So far we have eaten lots of good food and chocolate yummies, indulged in some good wine and had hours of great conversation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The visit is going by way too quickly, as she leaves tomorrow already. We intend to make the most of today and I have a babysitter lined up for tomorrow so we can go do "grown-up stuff".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After she leaves I will post some fun pics of our activities, but for now, I'm going to enjoy her remaining time here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-4586064744694192282?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/4586064744694192282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=4586064744694192282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/4586064744694192282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/4586064744694192282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/11/time-marches-on.html' title='Time Marches On'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-2157294304102845034</id><published>2007-11-05T20:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T05:53:01.466-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='helpful hints'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oswald'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wiener dog'/><title type='text'>Scotch Tape</title><content type='html'>Watching an episode of Oswald today with Lula, I saw something that peaked my interest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woodpecker was about to drill through the single pole holding up the tent they were all playing in when Oswald's wiener dog(complete with bun) alerted everyone to said tragedy. Oswald climbed the pole and just as it was about to fall, he caught it and held it until the talking tree came with some scotch tape. Oswald wrapped the tape around the pole and the day was saved. The tree and Oswald and all the other characters continued to play and gave the dog a "Best Pet" award for his efforts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although in reality it is completely unlikely that some scotch tape would hold together a large wooden pole for any length of time, I thought it interesting that something so simple was used to solve such a large problem. If that tent had folded, not only would Oswald and the talking tree have gotten their tentacles and branches entangled causing multiple lacerations , but the starfish might have devoured the hot dog under the cover of dark and the whole episode about the "Best Pet" prize would have been a bust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I think we all need to look for some simple solutions from time to time. I know that I personally tend to make things into bigger issues than they need to be and therefore look for big solutions. Maybe if we just use a little "scotch tape" we can find our way through our problems and maybe even get our own "Best Pet" prize in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I am off to buy 687 rolls of Scotch tape.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-2157294304102845034?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/2157294304102845034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=2157294304102845034' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/2157294304102845034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/2157294304102845034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/11/scotch-tape.html' title='Scotch Tape'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-7560825658728084752</id><published>2007-11-05T07:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T15:20:36.704-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='LIFE Group'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bottles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chunky Monkey'/><title type='text'>Sweet Slumber</title><content type='html'>In spite of my fear of being stricken by Murphy's Law, I am going to send out a big "Thank You" to my friends in my Bible Study group for their advise regarding Chunky Monkey's sleeping habits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My girls&lt;/em&gt;, as I lovingly refer to them as, informed me that it was time to initiate some tough love with the little man so as to regain my own much needed sleep. He is rapidly approaching 15 months of age and even though he has had small (2-3 nights at a time) periods of sleeping through the night, he is ingrained in an "eat twice a night" routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, taking their advice (read: pressure) to heart, I did (almost)all that they told me to do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Turn off the monitor (Check)&lt;br /&gt;2. Let him cry (Check)&lt;br /&gt;3. Wear earplugs (No way)&lt;br /&gt;4. Feed him more in the evening (Check)&lt;br /&gt;5. Do not, under any circumstances, feed him in the night (Check)&lt;br /&gt;6. Put Lula in her own bed so she doesn't hear him (Check...mostly)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am pleased to announce that even though he has woken several times and cried for up to ten minutes, I have not caved and fed him and he has gone back to sleep on his own for 3 nights. I am hoping that we are past the night feedings now and within the next few nights, he will stop waking altogether. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe if I am not waiting for the 11:00 feeding, I can break my own bad habit of staying up too late and go to bed at a more reasonable time, thereby decreasing the amount of EMS attacks. &lt;br /&gt;(&lt;strong&gt;E&lt;/strong&gt; vil &lt;strong&gt;M&lt;/strong&gt; ommy &lt;strong&gt;S&lt;/strong&gt; yndrome) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So again, &lt;strong&gt;THANKS, GIRLS!&lt;/strong&gt; You know who you are!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-7560825658728084752?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/7560825658728084752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=7560825658728084752' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/7560825658728084752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/7560825658728084752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/11/sweet-slumber.html' title='Sweet Slumber'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-4509583807619375369</id><published>2007-11-01T22:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T00:26:04.646-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cwabs, Titsie Wowels, and the Debble</title><content type='html'>Happy Halloween! Happy Halloween. Haaappy Haaallo-weeeen. Happy frickin' Halloweeeen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since when do holidays last for four days anyway? Well, Christmas always seems to linger indefinitely, but not Halloween. Halloween is the &lt;strong&gt;day&lt;/strong&gt; that you have a little party at school and impatiently wait for the 3:00 bell so you can go home and spend several hours perfecting your get-up to resemble a deranged kitty cat or a kickin' punk rocker. All of this effort is made in order to go out and knock on every door in the neighborhood hoping they'll give out full-sized candy bars and NOT apples. Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, unbeknownst to me, trick or treating has morphed into a quest for candy that begins with a costume and ends four days later with more candy than any self-respecting mother would allow her child to consume in a year! I vowed that most of the candy would "disappear" little by little into the garbage (NOT into my mouth, thank you very much) because three bags of candy will be &lt;strong&gt;entirely&lt;/strong&gt; too much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our quest began with a Trunk-r-Treat event at our church. All went very well. Daddy was home, Grandma and Grandpa Gardener came, we had a great turn out and everyone had a great time. Lula Belle was a beautiful "Ariel" complete with a way-too-expensive mermaid costume from Lilian Vernon that was falling apart before we even got out of our driveway (grunt, cough, choke) and Chunky monkey was "Sebastian". Lula really enjoyed pointing out to everyone in attendance that her brother was a "cwab". We came away with "goodie bag" #1.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RyqzHX9fsFI/AAAAAAAAACg/j8kPQTPLizs/s1600-h/September+2007+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RyqzHX9fsFI/AAAAAAAAACg/j8kPQTPLizs/s320/September+2007+001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128108064987131986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our next event was the "Fall Carnival" at the preschool. I was on the planning committee and happily, everything (OMG)went according to planned! All the kids had a super time bouncing, getting their faces painted, "fishing" for treats, bowling and eating spooky snacks. I spent the whole day working the photo booth and then carrying home all the "goodies" from bag #2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, are &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; tired of Halloween yet? I was! And it was still two days away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday we didn't have any events, but all I heard from sunrise to sunset was "Can we &lt;em&gt;pweaeeeese&lt;/em&gt; go twick-uw-tweat tomowow"? You see, up till then I had maintained that we were not going to "twick-uw-tweat" on Halloween night. I have difficulty returning home alone with the kids on a completely ordinary evening after dark. I was not about to do it on Halloween. My plan was to turn off all the lights and watch "The Great Pumpkin" with the kids. We would go to bed early so as to avoid opening my door to anyone I didn't know or being "tricked" in any fashion while trying to return home from more candy hoarding.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUUUTT, my friend Angie has a little girl named Rose and she had planned to take Rose out to a neighborhood party that they attend every year. When she found out that I wasn't going to take Lula out, she asked if I would let her go with them. I fought a battle in my own mind about how I was protecting her by staying home... and depriving her of a fun evening by staying home. Eventually my guilt won out and I allowed her to go with them. I was a nervous wreck the whole evening. I completely trust my friend Angie and her husband, but was afraid that some spectacular vampire would be a pedophile in a mermaid kind of mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, Ariel returned home safely with "goodie bag #3", albeit waaay past her bedtime and passed out in Angie's arms. (Despite what was probably the biggest sugar high of her life considering she's smart enough to know that if mama ain't around...eat. it. &lt;em&gt;all&lt;/em&gt;, girl!)&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RyqzGn9fsEI/AAAAAAAAACY/t810FwX_5eE/s1600-h/Halloween++Party+2007+098.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RyqzGn9fsEI/AAAAAAAAACY/t810FwX_5eE/s320/Halloween++Party+2007+098.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128108052102230082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got her into her jammies and into bed, but not before she told me that Rose's family was a "famiwee of &lt;em&gt;Debbles&lt;/em&gt;, Mommy!" with a tone of disbelief glaring through. I assured her it was all in good fun and kissed her goodnight. As I walked out of the room I heard, "Mommy?" &lt;br /&gt;"Yes, baby?", I said. &lt;br /&gt;"You can have awwwel my Titsie Wowels since they aw yoe favowit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so three bags isn't &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; much, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-4509583807619375369?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/4509583807619375369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=4509583807619375369' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/4509583807619375369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/4509583807619375369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/11/cwabs-titsie-wowels-and-debble.html' title='Cwabs, Titsie Wowels, and the Debble'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RyqzHX9fsFI/AAAAAAAAACg/j8kPQTPLizs/s72-c/September+2007+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-5250392994363746316</id><published>2007-10-25T23:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T23:50:23.361-05:00</updated><title type='text'>YIPPPEEEEE!</title><content type='html'>I just received an e mail that Sarah Jean is coming for a visit!!!!!  &lt;strong&gt;YEEEEEEHAAAAAA!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so excited that she will be here!  So much to do.... so much to get ready...painting, cleaning, getting a bed ready for her since she cannot stand my snoring, the list goes on and on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah Jean and I have been friends since the 5th grade.  We have done all kinds of crazy things together.  We once dressed up like sluts and walked 3 blocks from my house to hers in broad daylight and thought (at the ripe old age of 12) that we were hot stuff.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were friends all through high school and into college, but both did our own things, too.  We drifted apart and back together again more times than I care to count, but our friendship has remained strong and true and I am more glad to know her today than ever; and I hope she feels the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;***FUNNY STORY***&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah and I shared an apartment together for a year during college.  We used to sit up late and talk and smoke cigarettes and drink beer.  We would rush home from school/work to see each other and take turns cooking meals and doing chores.  It was a great time! I was engaged to be married at the time and my fiance joined the army. Sarah often slept in my room because we would just fall asleep talking.  One morning my alarm went off and since I was then, and always will be slow to wake up in the morning, I pushed the snooze.  Three times.  The fourth time, Sarah had had enough of it and yelled at me to "&lt;strong&gt;GET YOUR FAT ASS OUT OF BED&lt;/strong&gt;!!!!!"  I did, of course, but not without cursing under my breath something about it being &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; damn bed.  We still laugh about it to this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that fiance came and went, but Sarah stayed.  She has supported me through two marriages, one divorce, multiple hospital events involving my grandmother, dad, Lula and even myself.  She was in the room with me and my family when my dad died.   She is like a sister to me and when I moved away from Michigan, leaving her was paramount to leaving Trixie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it should be clear that a visit from her will be a tremendous thrill and I am so looking forward to staying up late, laughing, and reminiscing.  The cigarettes will be replaced with the chocolate dessert of her choice and the beer with a good white wine, but the conversation and the bond of friendship that will remain will be rich and satisfying, indeed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-5250392994363746316?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/5250392994363746316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=5250392994363746316' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/5250392994363746316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/5250392994363746316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/10/yipppeeeee.html' title='YIPPPEEEEE!'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-8612951745326224064</id><published>2007-10-24T22:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T21:17:19.755-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chunky Monkey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Close calls'/><title type='text'>What Am I Going To Do With That Boy?</title><content type='html'>I think the only thing I can do is pray.  I pray that I can get that boy to the age of 2.  When we get there, I'll pray for 3.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This child is absolutely fearless. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has a bruise on his face from I don't even know what.  He has a black eye from trying to climb on top of three paint cans that were stacked into a pyramid.  Paint cans don't hold climbing babies.  He has multiple scratches and scabs on his head in various places from all the falls and misjudgments made by new walkers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking of changing his name from LG to Chunky Monkey.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He would scale the entire house if I gave him the opportunity! I cannot keep him off of my kitchen table unless I take all the chairs and turn them over, legs up in the air.  The fireplace is a continuous struggle as well; I have taken to piling toy bins up there so he doesn't have a square inch to occupy his chunky butt.  The stairs are his Mecca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the worst is...the ladder.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been trying to remodel our entry hall (among other things) and need our ladder to complete the work.  I have pulled him off the ladder many times, but usually I am right behind him, so it's no big deal.  Yesterday he upped the annti.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the ladder in place and he was in the family room adjacent to the entry hall.  I had a baricade constructed of a toy bin and Lula's art easel turned on its side, which had seemed to be effective at keeping him in the family room for the last thirty minutes. I needed to stop working on the entry to fix lunch, so I went to wash my hands in the nearby bathroom.  I proceeded straight to the bathroom, washed and dried my hands efficiently, and immediately headed back toward the entry.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I saw him....on &lt;em&gt;TOP&lt;/em&gt; of the six foot ladder!!!  As if that weren't bad enough, he was holding the scissors I had been using to trim joint tape! I think my heart skipped a beat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first instinct was to run toward him and scoop him up into my arms, thereby snatching him from the dangerous fall that seemed imminent; but if you know anything about LG, you know that would have been a mistake.  Surely he would have taken great joy in my obviuos panic and started bouncing up and down frantically---all the while squealing delightedly. This would have caused him to lose his balance and tumble to the ground at the speed of light cracking his head on every rung of the ladder on the way down and impaling himself with the scissors before I could take two steps.(Ok, so I'm a little dramatic...I was scared!)  So I fought the urge and quietly. calmly. proceeded.  &lt;strong&gt;SLOWLY&lt;/strong&gt;.  I tried not to make eye contact with him and to cover as much ground with the fewest steps possible before he figured out that I was moving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rescued my little daredevil successfully this time, but if that bathroom had been any further away from the ladder the story could have been very different.  He would have seen me coming and attempted either a quick getaway or a happy dance, both of which would have probably resulted in a 911 call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chunky Monkey it is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-8612951745326224064?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/8612951745326224064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=8612951745326224064' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/8612951745326224064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/8612951745326224064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/10/what-am-i-going-to-do-with-that-boy.html' title='What Am I Going To Do With That Boy?'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-3109147289916456785</id><published>2007-10-24T08:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T09:57:22.393-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So Much To Write, So Little Time</title><content type='html'>I still haven't posted about our fall break and the weekend is almost here again, which means there will be another visit from CJ. Not to mention all the Halloween hub-ub will be starting Sunday with a Trunk-R-Treat event at church. I could go into a rant right now about all the money I spent at Wal-Mart yesterday for upcoming Halloween events...I'll save it for later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so the short and sweet of it is that we took two road trips. The kids were FANTASTIC! Lula Belle has figured out that if she sleeps, the time goes faster! LG, not so much. He does however, enjoy the DVD player, so he got his weekly allotment of television all wrapped up on the drives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first trip was to CJ's grandmother's house. We had a great time visiting, eating great grandma food (yeah, you know the stuff) and went to a terrific place called Leonardo's&lt;a href="http://www.leonardos.org/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; in Enid, Oklahoma. If you ever get to Enid and have kids with you, FIND IT! It was packed with fun and educational activities for kids of all ages ranging from a music room to an actual jet plane cockpit for the kids to explore. There was also an area that is gated in for young ones to roam and have fun. LG discovered Thomas the Train and since the child has never focused on anything that is not dangerous before that, he is getting a Thomas table for Christmas. So, Trixie, any Thomas stuff you want to unload for a fair and reasonable price, I'm in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/Rx9ZHJwAa0I/AAAAAAAAACI/LRhxQ1aWlhQ/s1600-h/September+2007+071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/Rx9ZHJwAa0I/AAAAAAAAACI/LRhxQ1aWlhQ/s320/September+2007+071.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124912880382143298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our second trip was to Little Rock, Arkansas to see CJ's mom and stepdad. That was a fun trip also filled with baking, more eating, s'mores, wagon rides and lots of snuggle time with the Little Rockers (by the kids, not me).&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/Rx9ag5wAa1I/AAAAAAAAACQ/Jk7UChBOme4/s1600-h/September+2007+134.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/Rx9ag5wAa1I/AAAAAAAAACQ/Jk7UChBOme4/s320/September+2007+134.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124914422275402578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;So all in all, a good time was had, the week flew by and I and my children survived fall break without a single incident of evil mommy syndrome attacking us. And now, I have to go get Lula ready for school and guess what! LG starts a Mother's Day Out program tomorrow...I bet you can almost see me jumping up and down! I could do lots of things on my very first day alone in oh, I don't know how long, but Mama needs a new pair of jeans! It'll be so fun -and foreign- to shop without a 26 pound weight on my left hip!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-3109147289916456785?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/3109147289916456785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=3109147289916456785' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/3109147289916456785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/3109147289916456785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/10/so-much-to-write-so-little-time.html' title='So Much To Write, So Little Time'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/Rx9ZHJwAa0I/AAAAAAAAACI/LRhxQ1aWlhQ/s72-c/September+2007+071.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-7837451453972830390</id><published>2007-10-23T08:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T08:32:27.900-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ladies and Gentlemen...</title><content type='html'>I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine that has recently started her own blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend "Chelle" goes to my church and leads my small group bible study and knits with me on occassion. Somewhere in all that she discovered that I like to blog. Well, apparently I have inspired her to add one more thing to her very busy life! (She smiles deviously)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, please go check her out at "My Life on the Ledge" (sorry, but I can't insert the link for some reason today...you can follow it from my "Frequently Funny" category to the left)and leave her a comment that you were there! We all need a little love when we're getting started, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-7837451453972830390?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/7837451453972830390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=7837451453972830390' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/7837451453972830390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/7837451453972830390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/10/ladies-and-gentlemen.html' title='Ladies and Gentlemen...'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-5971875361141130550</id><published>2007-10-21T23:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T12:40:38.878-05:00</updated><title type='text'>HMMMMMM...</title><content type='html'>I talked to my mother on the way home from the in-law's today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nonnie: We witnessed a biker get hit by a car yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh, mom!  That's awful!  Was he ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nonnie: Well, it was a good thing our friend Bob was with us.  He knew just what to do.  He's trained in that sort of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh, yeah?  What does he do for a living?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nonnie: He runs a brake repair shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nonnie: And he gives blood once a month, too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HMMMMM.So did he stay at a Holiday Inn last night?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-5971875361141130550?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/5971875361141130550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=5971875361141130550' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/5971875361141130550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/5971875361141130550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/10/hmmmmmm.html' title='HMMMMMM...'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-4409136218253335398</id><published>2007-10-13T08:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-13T08:39:52.544-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Saturday!</title><content type='html'>WOW!!! I feel fantastic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was watching Veggie Tales with Lula Belle last night at 8 pm...I was falling asleep. So, I decided to go ahead and go to bed at 8:30 when she did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is 8:35 AM right now and I am just having my first cup of coffee!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 hours of sleep in mommyland...what is that about???!!!??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, LG got up three times somewhere in there, but even so, I got lots of sleep! Yippppeeeee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is supposed to be a beautiful day here, so we are going to have breakfast and be off to scour the city for a camera battery charger and a craft show and top it all off with the park. I hope you a super day, too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-4409136218253335398?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/4409136218253335398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=4409136218253335398' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/4409136218253335398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/4409136218253335398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/10/happy-saturday.html' title='Happy Saturday!'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-8178428164690683593</id><published>2007-10-10T14:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T16:30:40.335-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Boys Will Be Boys?</title><content type='html'>I am not a bad mother. I am not a bad mother. I am not a bad mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will believe it eventually if I keep chanting, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LG is walking now. He still crawls when the mood strikes, he gets really tired, or if he decides that the urgency of a sippy cup is such that he could not possibly walk to the outstretched hand holding it quickly enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My adventure with a boy child has begun. He is notably more daring than Lula Belle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Already he has scaled the stairs 962 times, the fireplace bookshelf 3 times, the kitchen table (and reaching for the chandelier to dangle from it) 7 times, climbed across my couch side tables and attempted the washing machine twice. All of this with absolutely no fear or comprehension of the danger he has put himself in. When I come running at him to save him from a fall that I am sure would result in a trip to the emergency room, he just opens his mouth wide and lets out a loud squeal of delight and sometimes begins bouncing wildly with amusement. This makes me run faster, and he in turn laughs hysterically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This child is innately more curious than Lula Belle, too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is banned from all bathrooms because I grew tired of sterilizing him from head to toe after he had drenched himself with toilet water. He will get into any drawer that is left even slightly ajar and pull out all off its contents for close examination. He has been sternly corrected about getting into cupboards and removing everything in them only to giggle, tilt his head sideways and look up at me through the corners of his eyes to avoid further punishment ( it usually works, too).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, this is normal", you say. "This is just an inquisitive little boy being a boy", you say. "You are not a bad mother", you say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do good mothers let their children dangle from a chandelier and eat Ajax with bleach all in the span of 5 minutes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See. Told you I was a bad mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all began very innocently. Next week is fall break, so instead of hanging around the house with nothing to so for a week I decided to take the kids on a couple road trips. I thought I'd go over to CJ's grandma's house and later in the week to his mom's. I had already contacted my mom-in-law, so I was e mailing CJ's grandma to see if we could come over. I wanted to compose a short email. During the time it took me (I'm an average typist)to write two lines, LG climbed up a chair, onto the table and decided the chandelier was indeed, a &lt;em&gt;swing&lt;/em&gt;. I looked up from typing to see this and proceeded to bolt across the family room to the breakfast nook just in time to save him from a five foot drop onto the ceramic tile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He laughed uncontrollably at my breathlessness and exasperation! How dare he?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gently placed him in front of his favorite Barney electronic gizmo(a &lt;em&gt;just-kill-me now&lt;/em&gt; toy) and told him to play for just a minute and went back to my e mail. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I no sooner sat down to finish my thought and I heard something fall onto the tile floor. I knew he was probably into the cabinet but heck, he'd already pulled out that tin foil 14 times today; one more won't hurt, right? So I finished two more lines, pressed send and went to the kitchen to reorganize my baking needs...yet again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EXCEPT it wasn't my baking drawer this time. The child had half the contents of my under sink cabinet out onto the floor and was wearing what appeared to be a powdered sugar go-tee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do I keep powdered sugar under there", I frantically wondered? No, I most certainly don't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a rush of panic I scooped him up, stared at his face and did what every mother does when she doesn't know what is on her child's face/hands. I tasted it! Yep, tried it out and quickly concluded it was most definitely NOT powdered sugar. (Unless they have recently and without my knowledge, changed powdered sugar to taste like chalky bleach.)AJAX!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I quickly called the poison control line and with all the coolness I could muster, admitted to the man who answered that I had allowed my 14 month old to ingest a lethal substance. The man gently inquired about how much, when and if there was vomiting or coughing. I answered all his questions honestly, all the while praying he wouldn't ask for my name. He did. Luckily he only wanted my first name. He told me to give the boy some milk and crackers an keep him upright for an hour, then call him back. I did all that he told me to do and LG is just fine, you'll be pleased to know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, however, will remain convinced that I am doomed to mommy purgatory for my poor baby's mishap unless God and all of you let me know that Boys will be boys.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be waiting, but I promise to install a lock on the cabinet before the day is done and to watch the little stinker more carefully until I hear back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-8178428164690683593?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/8178428164690683593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=8178428164690683593' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/8178428164690683593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/8178428164690683593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/10/boys-will-be-boys.html' title='Boys Will Be Boys?'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-9131739625435826218</id><published>2007-10-03T06:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T08:34:45.507-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching Up</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted in several days because I have a very bad habit of staying up too late when CJ is gone. I find myself up until midnight or later watching all my favorite television shows and knitting, but that late at night I don't feel intelligent enough to gather my thoughts into posting. So, I wait to post until I have gotten up before the kids or while Lula is at school and LG is napping. I have stayed up way too late to get up early lately and I have used all my available nap times to try to get our master bathroom somewhat in shape for CJ to get home on Friday. It is "tore up from the floor up" and I had hoped that he wouldn't have to come home to it like that...but he does. There is no way I will get it done before he gets home. Oh, well. It will be beautiful by the time he makes his next trip back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RwN_XJwAauI/AAAAAAAAABU/u4baqJuEngo/s1600-h/September+2007+129.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RwN_XJwAauI/AAAAAAAAABU/u4baqJuEngo/s320/September+2007+129.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117073637354007266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a nice weekend. Friday night we went to the corn maze with our church groups and the kids had a blast roasting hot dogs and marshmallows for s'mores, playing on the hay bales and in the corn box and just generally running around with all their friends. By the time we got done with all of that it was dark and since I was scarred for life by "Children of the Corn" in the 7th grade, I was &lt;em&gt;way&lt;/em&gt; too freaked out to take them through the actual corn maze in blackness so we skipped that part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided I needed a break from the house and maybe even the kids, so I called my mom-in-law and asked if we could come to The Gardeners'Farm for the day on Saturday. She of course said yes, so we made the 1-1/2 hour drive and spent the afternoon playing, digging peanuts, picking corn, touring the gardens, feeding pigs and observing all the wildlife around.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RwOA1JwAavI/AAAAAAAAABc/M1QzuvGn0W4/s1600-h/September+2007+125.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RwOA1JwAavI/AAAAAAAAABc/M1QzuvGn0W4/s320/September+2007+125.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117075252261710578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RwOEWZwAaxI/AAAAAAAAABs/MBZ-XOQ8uCc/s1600-h/September+2007+146.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RwOEWZwAaxI/AAAAAAAAABs/MBZ-XOQ8uCc/s320/September+2007+146.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117079122027244306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't get much of a break from the kids, but it was nice to get away from the mess of the remodeling and it was so much fun to watch the kids enjoy the farm and grandma and grandpa! By the time we got home, the kids were ready for bed and I stayed up late watching tv and knitting a special project that I will reveal very soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was busy with church and helping to get ready for our annual Harvest Moon Festival (a big craft show), which is coming up on Saturday. Then our week began and here it is Wednesday already! We have a busy day today and tomorrow and then CJ will be home on Friday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our weekend will consist of Chuck E cheese, the State Fair, Harvest Moon, church and somewhere in there I am bound and determined to either go get a pedicure or take a long nap...ALONE... to maintain my sanity and gear up for another three week stretch without CJ. I'll let you know how it all works out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-9131739625435826218?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/9131739625435826218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=9131739625435826218' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/9131739625435826218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/9131739625435826218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/10/catching-up.html' title='Catching Up'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RwN_XJwAauI/AAAAAAAAABU/u4baqJuEngo/s72-c/September+2007+129.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-7241476907683410682</id><published>2007-10-02T11:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T11:20:20.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where, Oh Where Can Trixie Stix Be?</title><content type='html'>CJ called me last night and was quite upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do I have to do to get her to post?  The keyboard arrived last week and she had the weekend!  I thought for sure she would have written something by now!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Trixie, if you read this...my peeping, lurking husband is really missing you; as are myself and all your other readers!  I know you have a lot going on, but if you don't post soon, I fear  may have to take drastic actions to calm my husband!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may have to get him to actually post a comment! AAAGGGHHHHH!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-7241476907683410682?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/7241476907683410682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=7241476907683410682' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/7241476907683410682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/7241476907683410682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/10/where-oh-where-can-trixie-stix-be.html' title='Where, Oh Where Can Trixie Stix Be?'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-800978574785045614</id><published>2007-09-26T11:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T11:49:22.586-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Pray</title><content type='html'>I am posting a second post today out of shock, disbelief, anger and fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my dearest friends just called me to tell me that her family is going through something unimaginable.  I am not going to give details or name names, but I am begging for your prayers that she and her family will find a swift and satisfactory resolution to this problem that they are facing.  If you can find it in your heart to do so, please pray this prayer for them:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Lord,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I come to you today not knowing anything about what is going on in the lives of JJ's friend, but I ask you to guide her and her family through this, to give them strength and courage and to make it through each step of this journey and to help them to resolve the issue quickly, peacefully and justly.  Amen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more prayers we lift, the better.  Thank You.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-800978574785045614?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/800978574785045614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=800978574785045614' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/800978574785045614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/800978574785045614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/09/please-pray.html' title='Please Pray'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-217752141820893760</id><published>2007-09-25T07:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T07:46:47.629-05:00</updated><title type='text'>MELTDOWN</title><content type='html'>No, it wasn't me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Lula Belle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I let her watch a movie on HBO called "Little Princess". For those of you not familiar with it, it is a remake of an old Shirley Temple movie. It is about a little girl whose very wealthy father is sent off to fight in WWII and sends her to boarding school with a headmistress who is jealous of her privileged life. The father goes missing and is presumed dead, so the girl is forced to become a servant at the school. An unknown wounded soldier (actually her father) moves in next door with a case of amnesia and eventually, the two are reunited and he regains his memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice story, right? Sure it is. To anyone but a four year old who misses her own daddy. I happened to be on the phone with CJ when the movie cam to an end and we had quite a struggle calming her down after that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have learned my lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last evening Lula asked if she could watch that movie again. I said no because I felt that it would upset her. She promised me every way till Tuesday that it would not. She assured me that she knew what was going to happen this time and she was ready for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did I listen to a four year old regarding her ability to maintain her composure about such a sensitive subject????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I just wanted to believe she could do it. Maybe I wanted to help build her character by allowing her to experience feelings of empathy for the girl and not to think about her own situation. Maybe I was tired and feeling really crappy physically and wanted to plant her in front of the TV for 90 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, she couldn't do it. She did feel empathy for the girl, but certainly wasn't able to remove herself from the equation. The 90 minutes of relative peace that I gained was followed by 40 minutes of uncontrollable sobbing, screaming and pleading-&lt;em&gt;mostly be me&lt;/em&gt;- for her to stop crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I handled it all well for in those situations, I have pretty much unlimited patience because the child was clearly hurting in a terrible way that is no fault of her own and it was not a result of poor behavior. She just missed her dad in much the same way that I was missing my own father several weeks back. I would have loved to have had the kind of meltdown that she had. To just let it all out and have someone there to hold me and reassure me that I'd see my daddy soon. Oh, that I could take her sadness away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally I could think of nothing else to do but to call daddy. When I called he had been sleeping, but he woke up immediately when he heard what was going on and he did his very best to comfort her and calm her. I could tell it was very difficult for him to be so far away and hear that kind of anguish in his young daughter's voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, I guess it is a good thing for CJ to know that his baby girl loves him that deeply and it is good for her to realize that daddy would do anything-including work 1200 miles away to make sure she has a good life. But that doesn't make the separation any easier or the pain any less real. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. More. Days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-217752141820893760?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/217752141820893760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=217752141820893760' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/217752141820893760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/217752141820893760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/09/meltdown.html' title='MELTDOWN'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-2866472429005875139</id><published>2007-09-24T07:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T08:23:24.045-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shout Out to the Poke Princess</title><content type='html'>I feel just awful!  Have you ever missed an improtant person's birthday and instead of just owning up to it as soon as you remember, you procrastinate that phone call?  Every day that goes by, it gets harder to make that call because you grow more and more embarrassed; at first for missing said birthday, but then for not calling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I did it lately.  I missed the Poke Princess's birthday early this month and even though I have had a lot going on, I did think about it and her so many times and had no excuse for not calling her sooner.  I am truly sorry, P.P.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here I am trying to make amends by sending it out to the whole world that I have been a rotten sister-in-law and I will try harder!  I know I am already forgiven because Poke Princess is probably the best-hearted person that I know. And she was probably never even upset by it at all due to the fact she gave me every benefit of the doubt in existence.  Still, I was rotten so here's my cheesy happy birthday poem...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Princess of Pokes&lt;br /&gt;You are special and it's no joke.&lt;br /&gt;I am a jerk for letting your day go by&lt;br /&gt;I'll make it up to you, or at least I'll try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's go out for some fun&lt;br /&gt;just you and me&lt;br /&gt;Leave the kids with somone&lt;br /&gt;Sisters wild and free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll shop all day,&lt;br /&gt;have pedicures and coffee too.&lt;br /&gt;I'll give you big hugs and say&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry and I love you"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, I said it was cheesy.  It's the thought that counts, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-2866472429005875139?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/2866472429005875139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=2866472429005875139' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/2866472429005875139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/2866472429005875139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/09/shout-out-to-poke-princess.html' title='Shout Out to the Poke Princess'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-6318369132710349463</id><published>2007-09-22T07:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T08:05:43.345-05:00</updated><title type='text'>FYI</title><content type='html'>Children's NyQuil does not work for adults.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this should be common sense, but I was willing to try anything at 3 am when I woke up with a stuffy nose, dry scratchy throat and a &lt;em&gt;pounding&lt;/em&gt; headache! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note to self: Please consider Mommy's needs more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When packing to leave Montana, it never occurred to me that I myself may actually become sick or have an allergy flare up. My children have every OTC drug imaginable in the hall closet right now, but is there even one medication fit for adult consumption? NO. There is not. As soon as the kids get up, off to Walgreen's we go for some much needed Tylenol and allergy relief!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do also have to thank God for small favors. Sometimes they are not so small. Given my midnight allergy attack, I really was in no shape (or mood) to attend to a crying baby. Thankfully, LG helped me out and slept all night for only the second time in his 13 1/2 months of life! I didn't say anything about it yesterday for fear of jinxing it, but he did it again!!! I put him down at 7:30 last night and he is still not up yet! I cannot say how excited I am about this! Lula slept 5 hours at a time from birth and all night, every night by 6 months. I was dumb enough to believe that maybe #2 would do the same. Riiiight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other favor I am grateful for is the later sunrise. That means Lula wakes up later also. The sun begins to come up at 4 am in the summer in Montana, so we struggled to get her to sleep past 5-6 am for a long time. I finally implemented a rule that she had to stay in bed (or bedroom) until 7 am. I bought her a digital clock and taught her where to look for the right "7", and she did a great job for the most part. This morning she came down at 7:35, albeit dressed and hair brushed, so I don't know how long she has been up; but she didn't come down until she saw the "7". Did I mention that her clock is deviously set 30 minutes slow so as to give me a little extra time to sleep/have a cup of coffee/blog? BAD MOMMY, BAD, BAD!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-6318369132710349463?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/6318369132710349463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=6318369132710349463' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/6318369132710349463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/6318369132710349463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/09/fyi.html' title='FYI'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-4259572979669144087</id><published>2007-09-21T22:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T22:29:06.769-05:00</updated><title type='text'>O.K.</title><content type='html'>Ok, so I have decided hat a long and detailed explanation of the last 3 weeks would be not only hard to compose, but torturous for you all to read. So, I will just begin from today and go forward. I will cover anything missed as needed.  OK?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest happening of the day is that LG is beginning to walk! He is starting to become brave and take 2 or 3 steps at a time to get from one piece of furniture to the other. Ok, so really it is just a lunge where he remembers to move his feet a little bit, but a mother can call it whatever she wants.  OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did also speak with Sarah Jean today (She is my best friend from Michigan). It was really good to hear from her. I had called her last night to tell her that I missed her terribly and also the group of ladies (all high school friends that have stayed in touch these last 16 years) that used to get together for "Survivor Night" every Thursday. I was feeling particularly lonesome and I am sure that had something to do with it. Well, she tells me that they disbanded the group, so I shouldn't feel bad. Ok. That helps for next week, but last night really stunk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Sarah Jean is back on the market. She has had an on-again, off-again boyfriend for quite a while now, but has decided to kick him to the curb for good. I am so proud of her courage! It is hard to let someone go even if you know they are not good for you and Sarah Jean is feeling the pressure to find someone to settle down with. I keep telling her that she is still young, beautiful, vibrant and successful, so "don't worry", but I fear that she does worry she will run out of time to have a family. Please pray for her that she finds the perfect man for her and that they fall madly in love....soon,OK?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-4259572979669144087?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/4259572979669144087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=4259572979669144087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/4259572979669144087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/4259572979669144087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/09/ok.html' title='O.K.'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-6104767775292248791</id><published>2007-09-21T08:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T08:06:05.200-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best of Intentions</title><content type='html'>Well, I have had the best of intentions to get a post up about the past two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have failed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between painting, running back and forth to school twice a day, trying to catch up with old friends, knitting my Christmas gifts, church on Sundays and Wednesday nights and single handedly caring for the two little ones, I have barely had time to sleep, let alone blog.  I vow to try harder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologize to all of you and hope you will return another day to see what is going on in the World of Mum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-6104767775292248791?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/6104767775292248791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=6104767775292248791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/6104767775292248791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/6104767775292248791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/09/best-of-intentions.html' title='The Best of Intentions'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-1055675949115883427</id><published>2007-09-18T09:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T09:13:13.562-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Baaaaaaack!</title><content type='html'>Hello, all!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally have Internet access again! I will try to get on tonight and write a post that explains all that we have been through in the last two weeks succinctly, but forewarning...it may be a doosey of a long post! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, suffice to say that it has been an eventful but entertaining adventure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glad to be back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more thing...for those of you that read Trixie's Stix, please be patient. She has been going through some difficulties of her own and still has not gotten a keyboard ( a small obstacle that CJ plans to remedy himself today by ordering one and having it sent directly to her because he is missing lurking around her blog)so hopefully she will be able to post again soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-1055675949115883427?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/1055675949115883427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=1055675949115883427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/1055675949115883427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/1055675949115883427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/09/im-baaaaaaack.html' title='I&apos;m Baaaaaaack!'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-3739622753546491492</id><published>2007-08-31T22:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T22:43:00.075-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Adios For Now</title><content type='html'>Well, the time is upon us. We are officially headed back home tomorrow. I realize now that I had not written anything at all about these plans. I think I was in denial. The kids and I are going back to our home in Oklahoma so that Lula could go to school in her old school. When we arrived here in March we put her into a preschool and she did not adjust well at all. We were worried, but thought things would get better. They didn't. So, we decided to go home so she could have stability and routine. The bad parts are that we have to leave CJ here to finish his work and we have to leave behind our good friends Muffy and Elle that I told you about the other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CJ left yesterday afternoon with all I could cram into the minivan and arrived this evening. 1282 miles in 1 1/2 days. Yuck. I hate that he drove across the country by himself. I called him every few hours just to make sure he was ok. Still, this was a better alternative to the kids riding in the car for what would surely would have taken us four days if had done it that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a hard week full of dread for the inevitable. Muffy and I tried to get together nearly every day (not that that is a new occurrence) and we had lots of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday night we went to dinner at Muffy's. My gal cooked a fabulous meal of BBQ pork, hash brown and corn casseroles and a broccoli salad. She also made a "dump cake", which was also DEE-LISH! I can't wait to serve it at my next book club meeting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made Muffy's daughter Elle a photo album of the summer's events and gave it to her Tuesday. I hope it helps ease the pain of goodbye and to keep her feeling connected to Lula so they can remain friends. I also gave Muffy a photo in a "Friends" frame of the two of us, hoping for the same result. I gave her one of those musical cards, too. She opened it and heard the first three notes and turned red in the face and the tears flooded her eyes. It is Michael W. Smith's "Friends" song. I wrote a heartfelt message inside, but she didn't get to read it because Elle took the card and began opening and closing it so all we heard over and over again was "Friends are friends forever, if the Lord's a Lord of them". It became torturous! We were both crying, but laughing at Elle's fascination with the card at the same time.  Thank God for four year olds that lighten a mood!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we spent the entire day together and had lots of good food, laughs and eye rolls at our daughters' fits of who would be the leader and who wouldn't take turns with whom. We did some shopping and let the girls play at the mall play area. It was a good day. We stayed at their house until LG was about to meltdown mode due to tiredness(I neglected to allow him to get a good nap today in order to stay w/ the girls). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saying goodbye was agony. We both began crying about ten minutes before we actually even started out to the car and it was downhill from there. We have vowed to stay in touch and get together when possible. I hope we do.  I have two other friends in the world to date that I would hold to this caliber of friendship and I feel truly blessed to have found a third.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with all of that said, I must bid you all ado for now as I will be without Internet for at least two weeks. Sorry for the lengthy post tonight, but sometimes there is just a lot to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please check back with me in a couple weeks as I am sure I will have some eventful story to tell about the trip home! Flying by myself with a four yo and a one yo should be verrrry interesting!! Take care ya'll!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-3739622753546491492?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/3739622753546491492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=3739622753546491492' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/3739622753546491492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/3739622753546491492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/08/adios-for-now.html' title='Adios For Now'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-3398186483722043226</id><published>2007-08-29T14:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T14:36:14.888-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Time is Drawing Near</title><content type='html'>I am up to my eyeballs in piles of stuff and it is making me crazy.  I am trying to figure out what we can fit into our minivan to send home with CJ.  I have packed all the clothes I want to take, gathered kitchen items I need and cleaned out the bathrooms.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now need to tackle the toys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, we have plenty of toys remaining at home, so I think I only need bring Lula's most favorite things.  I know what most of them are, but I wanted to give her the opportunity to help me sort which toys to leave behind for the movers to bring home in a couple months.  She flat refuses.  I don't know if she just doesn't want to have to choose or if she just doesn't really care, but I am a half inch from doing it myself and letting her live with the choices I made.  It is getting down to the wire and I need to be ready.  CJ wants to leave in less than 24 hours.  AGHHH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It totally does not help that I would so much rather hang out with my friend Muffy and her daughter, Elle!  Every chance I get to steal away for a while to be with them, I nab it!  I am to the point now that I would almost rather stay up all night tonight if it meant I could spend another afternoon with Muffy.  I am going to miss her soooo much!  We went to lunch today and the feeling of impending departure and the sadness that it brings was palpable.  I hate saying goodbye!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try so hard to hide my sadness thinking that it will make her feel better, but I think I realized at lunch that she would actually be more comforted if I let my feelings be more known. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am telling the world that I love her and she is the only reason I don't want to leave Montana!  True friendship is hard to find and I feel so lucky to have her and it is tearing me up to have to leave! Muffy, when you read this, please know that I am crying with you right now! I love ya, girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope Muffy is prepared for the fact that I will be on her doorstep early Friday morning to go to breakfast at Wheat Montana and won't be leaving her side until she either asks me to go or I am forced to put my children to bed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-3398186483722043226?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/3398186483722043226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=3398186483722043226' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/3398186483722043226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/3398186483722043226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/08/time-is-drawing-near.html' title='The Time is Drawing Near'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-1329694793926253932</id><published>2007-08-25T16:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T16:30:45.277-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Karma Stinks</title><content type='html'>Literally. I left my sweet one year old boy in his crib fussing-- but not crying, for probably ten minutes or so as I wrote the previous post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BIG. MISTAKE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My oh-so-cute boy has figured out how to remove his own diaper. And of course he didn't do it when he only had to go #1. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No. My adorable child did it when he had everything to give!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I ran the bath water I searched for the camera to quickly snap a blackmailing photo of the "Naptime Pooper", but found it had no battery. I charged it while he was in the tub and was able to get one snapshot by the time he got out. It doesn't have him in it, but his favorite blankie was in there, so it will be no question at his graduation "who dunnit".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really sure what I did to deserve this little bit of Karma. Maybe I haven't done it yet. Maybe the amusement I will draw from showing this picture to as many friends and family as I can when he is a teenager has caused some weird cosmic force to spin around on me today. Who knows. Who cares. It's gonna be fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now please excuse me as I go serve my penance and clean up that stinky mess!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-1329694793926253932?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/1329694793926253932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=1329694793926253932' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/1329694793926253932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/1329694793926253932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/08/karma-stinks.html' title='Karma Stinks'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-898590616210680258</id><published>2007-08-25T15:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T15:47:05.400-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Mountain of Sin and 5 Gold Stars</title><content type='html'>After I posted yesterday I decided that there was only time before husband arrived home to either clean up a bit or fix dinner, but not both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't wild about the idea of cooking the chicken. I cleaned up. I didn't get it all done, but I made a really good dent in the mess. I called CJ after twenty minutes of Lula whining that she was &lt;em&gt;starving&lt;/em&gt;. I figured we could get a pizza or something when he got home. When I told him that I had only had time to do one major task he asked which we needed to work on when he got home (Gold Star #1). I told him I hadn't made dinner and he asked if I wanted to call in an order to our favorite Italian place. (Gold Star #2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called in the order and waited patiently through more whining about starvation for him to arrive. I was just starting to think he decided to drive past the house and head for Mexico (I wouldn't have blamed him at that point) when I heard the garage door. (Gold Star #3-just for coming home)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dear husband walked in carrying the bags that smelled so wonderful that Lula and I both flocked to his side to get a look as quickly as possible at the scrumptous viddles inside. CJ pulled out all the delicious Italian food I had ordered plus a truly yummy looking piece of turtle cheesecake and a piece of bread pudding. (Gold Star #4)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The food was delicious and I was so grateful to have such an understanding and gracious man to share it with. The evening was looking up and I was feeling oh-so-much better when he did it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He got Gold Star #5. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stopped at one of Billing's most expensive restaurants and picked up a "Mountain of Sin". This is a delectable and chewy brownie topped with a mound of the most mouth watering chocolate mousse and the whole thing is drizzled with caramel. WOW! I love this man!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I traded in the chicken for some much needed Italian food topped off with sin so good you want to do it every night of the week! A great deal for a very lucky girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-898590616210680258?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/898590616210680258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=898590616210680258' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/898590616210680258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/898590616210680258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/08/mountain-of-sin-and-5-gold-stars.html' title='A Mountain of Sin and 5 Gold Stars'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-149806616555515248</id><published>2007-08-24T16:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T16:26:23.765-05:00</updated><title type='text'>F5 Tornado Strikes</title><content type='html'>Ok.  I know that I was feeling validated.  I still do.  But today when CJ gets home, he will see that an abnormally violent tornado hit our house and there is no possible way I can clean it up in the hour and a half until he gets home.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am having a garage sale and Lula was outside with me for much of the morning.  I put LG down for his nap and Lula came inside to have "quiet time".  I came in after closing up the sale and found that not only had quiet time not occured as planned, but every toy she has had been removed from its shelf/storage space/box.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My house looks like the aftermath of Katrina without the water damage. (Please, no disrespect to anyone who actually lived through that horrific event.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am flustered and angry and today is one of the days I wish I had a full time job outside my house so my kids wouldn't get the chance to tear it up day after day after day after day!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called CJ to ask him what we should have for dinner in hopes that he would say he would pick up a pizza or chinese take-out.  Instead, he said, "How about some chicken?"  Siiigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CLuck, cluck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-149806616555515248?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/149806616555515248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=149806616555515248' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/149806616555515248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/149806616555515248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/08/f5-tornado-strikes.html' title='F5 Tornado Strikes'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-980561911016836814</id><published>2007-08-21T20:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T11:39:07.256-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let Me Count The Ways</title><content type='html'>Puke. Spit up. Blow chunks. Spew. Upchuck. Vomit. Throw up. Toss yer cookies. Lose yer lunch. Pray to the porcelain god. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are all the ways I could think of to say someone got sick, but all are ways that LG did it the past four days. Except, of course, for the porcelain god part. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's one, so the toilet never got the privilege. That belonged to me and his daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can take it. CJ however, not so much. For the last three nights, CJ would take the baby to his room and try to feed him his nightly bottle. Each night I thought, "it just may work tonight". And each night after about five minutes I would hear, &lt;strong&gt;"JJ!!!!!!!". &lt;/strong&gt;I would quickly run to my squeamish husband's aid to find a child grinning from obvious relief and a husband grimacing with disgust. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I mopped up as much as I could and took the child, my gagging spouse would bolt from the room and about 6 seconds later I would hear the shower turn on. Only after 15 minutes of scrubbing would he emerge to say "that is &lt;em&gt;DISGUSTING&lt;/em&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To his credit, he can catch the stuff in his hands now with no problem, but if his shirt gets soaked....it's all over. He really was quite the trooper the last few nights, but last night he calmly said to me at bedtime, "You wanna give the bottle to him?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LG took his bottle and went to bed peacefully without a single drop reappearing. Mama's touch? I wish I could take the credit, but I think the tummy bug has finally left. We'll see tonight when CJ resumes bedtime bottle feeding. I'll let ya know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-980561911016836814?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/980561911016836814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=980561911016836814' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/980561911016836814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/980561911016836814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/08/let-me-count-ways.html' title='Let Me Count The Ways'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-2021720190503097257</id><published>2007-08-16T14:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T08:39:46.212-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All You Do Is Clean</title><content type='html'>CJ stayed home from work sick the other day.  He was actually recooperating from a restless night that resulted from what we think may have been some bad KFC, so he was really just resting and trying to work up the courage to eat something...anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids and I went about our normal day, which I classify like this: Wake, Eat, Play, Eat, Play, Eat, Play, Eat, Play, and Eat some more.  Everything else, to me, is just the obligatory stuff that goes without saying.  Of course, I try to be a diligent mom and my kids recieve balanced meals and nutritious snacks, but when you put it like that, it does sound as if I am trying to raise hogs for slaughter instead of healthy children! I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, CJ observed this whole routine for the first time since we have been married.  Ordinarily when he is sick, he is holed up in the bedroom and rarely sees the light of day.  This day, he was on the couch and very aware of all that was going on.  He informed me at dinner last night that he had come to the conclusion that aside from the required feeding rituals, all I do is clean.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, he noticed that in between all the eating, I seem to never sit down for more than a few minutes because I am constantly cleaning something or picking something up or putting something away.  He noticed that I do this and all the while have a tornado following behind me creating more messes to be cleaned or put away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say that I have an incredible feeling of validation right now!  I just know that there have been many days that he has come home and must have wondered what in the world I had been doing all day because it certainly wasn't cleaning the house!  Now he can understand that those are just the days that I can't keep up with the tornadoes!  Most days when he gets home from work, the house is picked up, the dishes are done and dinner is on the table.  These are the days that he must have imagined that I actually stopped watching tv long enough to get something done.  Or perhaps, in his obliviousness that is "man", he thinks that supervising the children and keeping a house is effortless.  Yeah, &lt;em&gt;riiiight&lt;/em&gt;.  Now he knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for all of you out there that are married or in a relationship with a man, you know that their memories are about as long as a yardstick cut in half; so I don't expect my validation to continue indefinately.  But I am reveling it in right now while it lasts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!-- Start Bravenet.com Service Code --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script language="JavaScript" type="text/javascript" src="http://pub32.bravenet.com/counter/code.php?id=401740&amp;amp;usernum=2730891203&amp;amp;cpv=2"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!-- END DO NOT MODIFY --&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-2021720190503097257?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/2021720190503097257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=2021720190503097257' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/2021720190503097257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/2021720190503097257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/08/all-you-do-is-clean.html' title='All You Do Is Clean'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-7358994163023515975</id><published>2007-08-15T15:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T14:11:16.255-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Birthday Week</title><content type='html'>Well, it has been an eventful week around here! My in-laws came in on Thursday. We were so excited that they took time out of their very busy lives to come stay with us. We had a wonderful time visiting and playing with the kids. We took lots of pictures and video and I plan to document this special time in a scrapbook for them which I intend to give them at Christmas. It is a grand plan. Let's see if I can execute it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend was very full.  We busied ourselves preparing for LG's first birthday party (to coincide with my own)on Friday by shopping at the mall where Grandma was extremely generous at Gymboree. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RsSMXnzD3SI/AAAAAAAAABE/YJ7Lel3Awkk/s1600-h/DSC02105.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RsSMXnzD3SI/AAAAAAAAABE/YJ7Lel3Awkk/s320/DSC02105.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099355015538269474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was a whirlwind of Farmer's market, cake decorating, present wrapping, last minute trips to the store and the noticeable absence of CJ while he shopped for my birthday gift. Nothing like waiting till the last minute, huh? It was so tiring that we all needed naps, but CJ and his dad were the only ones who were so lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LG's party was a hit and although I set out to recreate the cake CJ had for his first birthday; lack of a good photo and sketchy memories made that impossible. I improvised and came up with what was a good likeness with my own twist. I was not completely happy with the cake, though. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RsSe73zD3TI/AAAAAAAAABM/2iKD_qYYu-Q/s1600-h/DSC02116.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RsSe73zD3TI/AAAAAAAAABM/2iKD_qYYu-Q/s320/DSC02116.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099375429517827378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought the locomotive was a bit too plain and would like to have added more candy embellishments, but didn't have the time or resources to do so. LG could have cared less! He was so NOT into the party scene! He liked the birthday singing, but had absolutely no use for the cake. He stuck his fingers in timidly and decided immediately that frosting all over his hands and face was something he wanted no part of. He played in it for a bit, but I think it was more out of a fascination with everyone staring and laughing at him than of the cake itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the party Saturday night was fun, although too much wine and birthday cake made for a long day Sunday as we tooled around the Montana countryside and made a visit to the State Fair. I was entirely too hung over to ride any of the rides with Lula, so Grandma gladly stepped in and saved my sorry behind. Monday came and the visit was over all together too quickly, as most highly anticipated visits are, and they flew off to Oklahoma. We were sad to see them go and the tears were difficult to stifle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday was a bust as CJ stayed home with a stomach bug and today I have been trying to decide (tearfully, at times) what things I will try to squeeze into my minivan for the return trip to Oklahoma next weekend. I will not be making that journey in the car, though. CJ will be driving the van and I will be flying with the kids. The thought of 27 hours in a van with two children was more than he could bear and he happily coughed up the money for three one way tickets to avoid it. Who am I to argue?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it has been an exciting and fun-filled week that has both exhilarated and exhausted me at the same time. But those are life's greatest weeks, don't you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-7358994163023515975?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/7358994163023515975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=7358994163023515975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/7358994163023515975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/7358994163023515975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/08/our-birthday-week.html' title='Our Birthday Week'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RsSMXnzD3SI/AAAAAAAAABE/YJ7Lel3Awkk/s72-c/DSC02105.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-1485167188824800356</id><published>2007-08-05T06:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T06:42:24.454-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Picture This</title><content type='html'>It's 5:35 am and I got up to let LG devour a second 8 ounce bottle for the night. My hubby got up with him the first time, so I actually got to sleep from 10 pm straight on to 4:45! I feel so rested that I held him after he finished until he went limp in my arms. I usually feed and immediately deposit him back into the crib so I can return to bed to steal another hour's sleep before Lula Belle wakes up for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, like I said, I feel awake. Alive. Blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped by Lula's room to check on her. The night light creates a warm glow in her room. Even in the dimness, you can still make out the shabby sheik bed and dresser lined with picture frames of pinks, blues and greens. You can see the stuffed animal and doll silhouettes from the shelf that lines her entire room. Barbies litter the floor half naked and in contortionist poses. Her miniature dressing table drawer hangs open with strings of beads and plastic earrings draping out of it. The closet doors are open and you can make out every princess outfit in all of their glittery poofiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The soft music plays on a continuous loop. A beautiful Asian inspired lullaby CD that makes you think of Geisha and cherry blossoms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the bed is a perfect little lump. The lump is snoring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stood there listening to her breathe (and snore) for what seemed only to be a few seconds but was actually several minutes. I found myself thinking of the lump and her genuine goodness. A sweetness so pure and real that all the evil and scary things of the world melted away for just a moment. I remembered her goodnight hug. So tight I thought I might not breathe. Loving me because that is all she knows how to do. Then she kisses me so many times that I lose count and says "one kiss is never enough, Mommy".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you had asked me ten years ago to describe this night, I guarantee you it would not have been this wonderful. I could never have imagined such a blessing. I could never have pictured this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-1485167188824800356?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/1485167188824800356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=1485167188824800356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/1485167188824800356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/1485167188824800356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/08/picture-this.html' title='Picture This'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-8789978839070621947</id><published>2007-07-28T20:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T16:33:47.736-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yellowstone National Park is a True Treasure</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RrD5qQ01sKI/AAAAAAAAAAk/1b-9HFaYceM/s1600-h/yellowstone+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093845683022442658" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RrD5qQ01sKI/AAAAAAAAAAk/1b-9HFaYceM/s320/yellowstone+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A trip to Yellowstone National Park. I remember begging my parents to take us there, yet had no idea why thy would not comply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is expensive. &lt;em&gt;Really&lt;/em&gt; expensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;$50 to get into the park, $60 to eat lunch and dinner, $37 for souveniers and gifts at three different gift stores (four year old is very adept at begging), $149 for hotel room that was unavoidable when the traveling day became longer than Lula and LG could handle, $73 for more meals the second day and $59 to fill back up with gas before heading home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Views of Yellowstone with our kids' great grandmother along, family bonding time, various geysers, elk, buffalo, several types of water foul, and my personal favorite-a bald eagle....Priceless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RrD7JQ01sMI/AAAAAAAAAA0/cUfr9lB8vZc/s1600-h/yellowstone+084.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093847315110015170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RrD7JQ01sMI/AAAAAAAAAA0/cUfr9lB8vZc/s320/yellowstone+084.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know. It is a cheesy repeat of a very over used marketing slogan, but the reason it got to be over used is because there is so much truth in its principal! I could never express in words the beauty and grandure of this place! I will cherish the memories made the last two days for as long as I live!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a few things that I am really hoping will result from this trip:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) that it helped to teach Lula that the wonderous gifts that God has given us are plentiful and fragile all at the same time. We must practice good habits to keep our Earth as clean and safe as we can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) that seeing these gorgeous animals in their natural habitat has given her an appreciation for the delicate balance of the circle of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RrD6MA01sLI/AAAAAAAAAAs/495EMSr8QAw/s1600-h/yellowstone+047.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093846262843027634" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RrD6MA01sLI/AAAAAAAAAAs/495EMSr8QAw/s320/yellowstone+047.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) that Lula can go to school and while learning about Yellowstone, proudly say that she was there and saw how beautiful and special it is, that she learned things like how a geyser works and that some forest fires are beneficial, and that she got to go with her great grandma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If those things happen to any degree, I will feel that the money we spent was some of the best ever! If you haven't been to this remarkable place...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go. Now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-8789978839070621947?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/8789978839070621947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=8789978839070621947' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/8789978839070621947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/8789978839070621947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/07/yellowstone-national-park-is-true.html' title='Yellowstone National Park is a True Treasure'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RrD5qQ01sKI/AAAAAAAAAAk/1b-9HFaYceM/s72-c/yellowstone+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-5248953490553492531</id><published>2007-07-26T11:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T12:18:57.255-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunshine</title><content type='html'>If you are reading my blog, you have probably been directed here via &lt;a href="http://www.trixies-stix.blogspot.com./"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trixies-stix.blogspot.com./"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trixies-stix.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://www.trixies-stix.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;. Thanks for stopping by. I must say I have a disclaimer of my own...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh. To anyone else it probably seems like Trixie and I cannot blow enough "Sunshine" up each other's %&amp;#es! Our blogs are filled with so many compliments that it occurs to me that it may be slightly nauseating for some!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In our defense, can I just say that we are at a point in our lives where these seemingly over abundant gratuities, expressions of love and general feelings of appreciation are finally able to be out in the open. We have spent most of our lives at an emotional distance. It feels really good to be comfortable enough with Trixie to let her know what I have always felt for her, but had difficulty for one reason or another articulating in a meaningful way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, thanks to all of you for enduring our long overdue sisterly love. It may appear to be too much but I assure you, it is by no means enough yet. Not on my behalf, anyway. Regardless, I'll try to reel it in a bit so as not to make any of you toss your cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thanks to Trixie for her compliments regarding my behavior in Arizona. I am definitely a person who tends to beat herself up about things and I have been doing plenty of it. I wish I could do some things differently and that my mom and her "friend" Fred could understand the reason for my overwhelming need to try to exert control throughout the week of my mother's hospitalization.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What must have appeared malicious to Fred was actually my attempt (albeit a poor one) to maintain some degree of a feeling of my mom, sister and myself as a family unit. Since our dad died our mom has grown increasingly distant; and witnessing Fred taking a "spousal role" with her in such a delicate and life threatening situation often made me physically ill and unable to draw breath for missing my dad so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My senses were raw. I felt like every time Fred did something kind for mom that I would like to have pushed him away from her to somehow protect our family turf. It is silly, I know. Yet somehow, I was acutely aware of every tiny thing that in any other situation would have been benign and completely unoffensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Wednesday we were barely speaking; for what I am sure he thought was a blatant attack on his role in my mother's life. I know that he felt like I was trying to control things to push him away from me and my mother, but really all I was doing was wishing so badly that he were my dad there stroking my mom's hair that I became more angry than I have ever been about dad's death. This made me seem cold and even punishing to him, but honestly that is not what I intended. I was simply in a place of grief that in the three years since my dad passed I had not been in yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now don't get me wrong, I feel like I still have plenty to be angry at Fred and my mom about; things I won't go into now and especially in light of his behavior that week. He didn't even try to consider what might be driving my behavior, but instead responded with cruelty of his own. Still, I accept responsibility for my own less than desirable behavior and will try to make amends. I'm not sure how yet, but it will come to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now though I will relish in the "sunshine" that Trixie and I have begun to spread around and allow that to assuage my grief.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-5248953490553492531?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/5248953490553492531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=5248953490553492531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/5248953490553492531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/5248953490553492531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/07/sunshine.html' title='Sunshine'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-9222654632241549754</id><published>2007-07-19T13:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T16:41:38.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Casting Out My Line</title><content type='html'>Hello. I am JJ nd my life is seemingly in a constant state of flux. My husband, CJ is an engineer and works in oil and gas and therefore is changing job locations every few years to be present for the construction of the equipment he designs at various oil refineries throughout the U.S.. Our home base is in Tulsa, Oklahoma, and although we maintain a residence there, we are currently in Montana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have two children; Lula Belle, age four and LG, age 11 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am hopeful that I can make some fun and meaningful contacts with other mothers out there who love to read, watch movies, knit, craft, or otherwise have a good time with their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister has a blog called Trixie's Stix &lt;a href="http://www.trixies-stix.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://www.trixies-stix.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;(check it out...she is a hoot!) and she is the one who prompted me to start blogging. I was only semi-excited about it until I actually posted as a guest blogger for her and found that it was really exciting to get comments back on my post. I think I am about to bite...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hook. Line. Sinker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope to see you out there in the land of cyberspace!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-9222654632241549754?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/9222654632241549754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=9222654632241549754' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/9222654632241549754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/9222654632241549754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/07/casting-out-my-line.html' title='Casting Out My Line'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7317093989567138405.post-4940121070478531881</id><published>2007-07-19T11:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T12:02:16.249-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleepless in Montana</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RqDFYaco4RI/AAAAAAAAAAU/VKjrdWgwr3g/s1600-h/101_0473.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089284602135634194" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RqDFYaco4RI/AAAAAAAAAAU/VKjrdWgwr3g/s320/101_0473.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was scared. I was really, really scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My sweet boy. The boy who never likes to see anyone eat alone. A very "healthy" 11 month old boy (he weighs 23, yeah you heard me, 23 pounds). A boy who gets up on average of twice a night to eat a full 8 ounce bottle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Cue horror music here)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;No food or drink after midnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yep, I had to get my ordinarily famished young fellow to the hospital for 7 am surgery to put tubes in his ears without feeding him since midnight!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;How in the world was I going to do that? The child would surely be screaming those blood curdling howls that make a mother go absolutely batty and want to crawl right out of her own skin. He would be in complete agony. The kind of terrible fit that makes the child have chest heaves when he finally stops crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had known that the tympanostomy was coming and had been dreading this starvation ritual more than the procedure itself by tenfold! I knew the procedure is routine and no one in our family has ever had any complications from anesthesia, so I was ok with it. But ask me to keep food from my child and I dive into the throws of anxiety faster than you can say "BOO"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I must have woken every hour or so to check the time. I did not want to be late and have to go through this ordeal again. I got up at 11:30 and fed him a bottle so full of rice cereal that I had to clip a nipple to get it to flow through!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, LG is typically a very happy boy. He's the kind of baby everyone stares at and then is overjoyed by his reaction...a coy little head tilt and big, teeth-half-in grin. He's so good tempered, that often I have not even known he's had an ear infection until I took him in for a well baby visit. No fever, no crying, no fussiness, and getting up in the night is no clue, as I have explained.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should have known. I had absolutely nothing to worry about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He ate his bottle at 11:30. He woke up at 4 am. If I had fed him, he would have gone back to sleep, but since I couldn't...he wanted to play. He cooed and giggled and played like the &lt;em&gt;best &lt;/em&gt;boy until 5:30 when we left for hospital. We got within 5 minutes of arriving and he fell asleep! He remained calm all throughout the registration and pre-op and waved goodbye with a smile on his face as the nurse carried my sweet boy off to have the deepest sleep of his short life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He woke up mad as a hornet, though! Who could blame the little guy? He could hear every sound for the first time ever probably, which must have made the world sound like a freight train two feet away. He was drunk from the anesthesia and although he'll probably have a period in college where he'll deliberately try to make himself feel this way, now is not the time!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As soon as I took him from the nurse though, and gave him his bottle...my sweet boy was back. He ate his bottle while I did the discharge paperwork and we happily went on home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought maybe he might sleep through the night last night since he probably wouldn't wake with ear pain and decide he may as well eat while he's up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, well. I can't have everything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7317093989567138405-4940121070478531881?l=mumsword1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/feeds/4940121070478531881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7317093989567138405&amp;postID=4940121070478531881' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/4940121070478531881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7317093989567138405/posts/default/4940121070478531881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mumsword1.blogspot.com/2007/07/sleepless-in-montana.html' title='Sleepless in Montana'/><author><name>Mum's the Word</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906520607805194229</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zS4C6hIPu6E/TlqWX2l7rLI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jmchXMLBBLA/s220/safe_image.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tOjO9caS_R0/RqDFYaco4RI/AAAAAAAAAAU/VKjrdWgwr3g/s72-c/101_0473.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
