My Hero, My Dad

This has been a year of stress and turmoil for our family. We are looking to a healthy year in 2012, no pain, no surgeries, no sorrow.

We've experienced the passing of an incredible man, and loving, fun uncle to my son; my  father-in-law suffering a heart attack and subsequent five artery by pass and just this week, my Dad underwent a surgery on his spinal column in his neck to repair a severely decompressed disc that has lead to numbness and pain in his arm.

I stood in Pre-Op with my family, my Dad on gurney waiting to go in to surgery. I could barely keep my emotions under control. I couldn't figure out why I was so upset; I knew the surgery would be fine, I knew my Dad was going to be so much better after he got out; I knew God was watching over him, the surgeon, the hospital, my family and would keep us all safe. I knew all this, but for a lack of better terms,  I was freaking out on the inside!

As we prayed, my voice cracked and tears started flowing. I didn't want my Dad to see or hear my distress, especially since I knew all was well. Why was I so upset?

Later in the day it came to me.

My Dad, my Hero; he has ALWAYS been there for me. I can't think of one moment in my life that I wouldn't be able to call on him. Not that I always did, but the comfort of knowing that I could, was and is a comfort that I rest upon.

He doesn't offer opinions unless I ask and sometimes not even then. He listens, he adamantly listens; when I'm crazy with emotions and words, he listens. He doesn't sigh or roll his eyes or interject, he opens his mind and his wisdom to me; allowing me to take what I want and leave what I don't.

He takes his job as Dad very seriously, he always has. I believe it's a job he loves more than any other job he's had; he doesn't get to retire from it; I don't think he'd want to; he's just so good at it. He's my Dad and I'll never have another one; I don't need another one, mine is perfect.

So as I stood at his bed side waiting for him to be wheeled away, it was the first time he was vulnerable to me. The first time, I was supposed to be the stronger one, the one to smile and hold his hand and tell him "everything is going to be fine". To not offer advice or deliver opinions, but to be strong for him.

I'm not sure I did a good job. God have me the ability to make people laugh, so I played to that grace. I'm not good at silence, it's deafening to me, although I'm sure a little silence for him would have been welcome.

My Dad is doing wonderfully, just as I knew he would be; he's already started doing his normal routine and is probably going to "over-do" it, that's his nature; that's who he is and I wouldn't change him for anything in the world. 

If you still have the honor of having your Dad around, I encourage you to call him; I'm sure he'd love to hear from you. For those that have lost their Dad, my deepest sorrow for you and your loss.

I have so many incredible memories with my Dad, I hope you do as well. Remember those moments and smile a little bigger today.

Writers Block

Yep, there it is. Looking at me with its blank stare. Daring me to write something profound, witty, cliche, historical (you know I'd never do that), exciting. The trouble is, its winning today.

I had something queued up in my brain this afternoon. I was washing my hands, leaving the bathroom and BAM, it just came to me, like a flash of lighting. It was insightful, useful and a bit of silliness in there too, for Halloween's sake.

I left the bathroom, got distracted with dirty dishes, laundry and a meatloaf; and now it's gone. The dishes are in the dishwasher, the rugs are clean and in the dryer, the meatloaf is waiting on me, but the thought is gone.

Oh well, maybe tonight as I drop off to sleep with the help of a Melatonin and Valerian Root, it will come to me. Of course, I'll forget it again in the morning, but be assured, you would have loved it!
 

Why Am I Always in Such a Hurry?

In the morning I find myself rushing to get my son ready for school, make him a good hot breakfast, all while unloading the dishwasher, making coffee for my better half, espresso for me, starting a load of laundry, doling out vitamins for everyone (yes, even the dog), feeding the dog, and finally getting myself dressed and ready to face the day. I feel certain this isn't just my day, but a typical day for many of us. I'm also fairly sure, that their are alot more of you with MORE morning chores than me...I'm not complaining, just wondering why do we feel the innate need to accomplish so much everyday and as quickly as possible?

Once I return home from taking the kiddo to school, it's not like my day slows down; quite the opposite. In addition to working from home on my "real job" with an IT consulting company; I also have the housework jobs to complete and then there is the "side" companies we have online that require attention everyday.

I'm busy, you're busy, I get it, I'm glad for it; but what if in all the hustle and bustle of the day, I'm missing the important things? I think I am.

Did I notice my son's pants are getting too short, yes...but I forgot to see how he is growing into such a fine young man.

Did I see that our yard needs mowing, yes...but I forgot to look at all the beautiful flowers that God placed in my backyard without my permission (dandelions).

Did I grimace when I had to pick up all the wet clothes around the pool this morning, yes...but I forgot that we had a great time in the pool after Dad jumped in with our son, both fully clothed.

I think we all forget, or at least I do, the important things in our day, Family, God and Laughter.

I encourage us all to stop for just a bit, take a deep breathe, stop racing the clock to complete the mundane, unimportant tasks and just enjoy what we have. Enjoy your children, love your family and praise our Lord and Saviour for all he has provided for us. Maybe that will take us through the day with a happier, lighter heart...now back to work, but with a smile!

I'd love to share some photos...but I don't know how?

So recently I was told I don't blog enough.

"The only way you'll get better at writing, is to write. It's just like speaking, the only way your kids learned to speak, is by speaking. Practice Hope, practice alot!"

With that being said, I'm just not sure if you want to read my rambles everyday? I've got quite a few thoughts rattling around in my brain. It's just getting them to you that worries me. I'm usually not at my computer when the best epiphanies happen; it's why it's called life. I'm out experiencing it, that's when the magic happens.

Let's start with shorter blogs and more frequently, then maybe you'll read me more often and just MAYBE, you'll subscribe to my words of insanity (gosh that would be so cool!) To my one follower, I love you dearly! To my future followers, you'll be my next favorites.
Now, how to get photos loaded to this blog? They keep breaking (whatever that means). I'll keep at it and maybe someday soon, you'll get to see inside my world. They tend to be humorous pictures of friends, family and then there's that one really terrible photo of stranger at the store; and it wasn't even Walmart!

It's Time for a Little ME!

If you ever find yourself with not enough "me time" and too much "family chores and errands", take a few moments and get yourself back. Yes, it is extremely important and very rewarding to be a Mom, it's a job that is created especially for us.

I've yet to meet a man that can multi-task as well as a woman. We just seem to understand that life is not a "one thing at a time" scenario. We don't get to finish a job before starting another. Dinner can't wait until the laundry is clean. The kids can't wait for us to drive them to school until our hair and make up is "just perfect". No, we don't get to wait until the glue dries on one project in the garage before we start another in the backyard. Our world is a world of constant movement, duties and jobs. It's an honor I hold in high esteem, one that gives me pride to say I can do, even when I don't do it well all the time. Sometimes it's just about me!

I don't feel guilty when the laundry sits for an extra day or two; they have enough underwear for just such selfish occasions. I don't feel remorse when I steal an extra minute or two of sleep in the morning...sometimes cereal is just the right way for your kids to start the day!

So, in all the hustle and bustle of your day, stop for a few minutes (oh heck, take sixty minutes) and just enjoy being YOU. It might be an amazing cup of hot tea (Teavana is incredible, just got it for my birthday); perhaps it's a ten minute cat nap or meditation; or maybe it's sitting down at a computer and getting it all out in a blog.

Whatever your "You" time is, do it and do it often. The kids won't care, your husband probably won't even notice, but you'll know you are important, special and worth every second you give to yourself, so you can be you...which most of the time, is being a great Mom!

What Else Happened on September 11th?

Did you know on September 11th:

1999 Serena William won the U.S. Open
1962 The Beatles made the recording of "Love Me Do"
1906 Gandhi began his non-violent protest movement in South America
1792 The Hope Diamond was stolen
2001 Over 10,000 babies were born; they will all be 10 years old in a few days. Let's take a few moments to wish them a Happy Birthday.

Let us never forget the horror of September 11, 2001 in New York City; an assault on our Country, our People and our Pride. But we should also take time out of the day to remember the good things that happened, things that happen every day in our great nation.

The joys, the successes; the caring and kind things we all do for one another, sometimes in spite of what happened in 2001; sometimes because of it.
 
This  is the mentality that will keep us strong and alert, so that we will look back in another ten years and be able to say, "God Blessed Our Country" in a time of tragedy and He gave us the ability to see through it and to see forward into a better and safer nation. We are Americans after all!

Yes, School Started, But I Want to Tell You About My Massage!

As the long Summer days closed on our children today, we all breathed a sigh of joy and tears for another milestone of the ages. BUT, I want to tell you about my massage this weekend. It will surely cheer you up if you're having a sad day and if you're day is going well, this is just a cherry on top!

I should have known, that seems to be the way all good stories start. But I should have; when you get a Groupon Now email for a last minute massage; you should know! I didn't.

I buy the 60 Minute massage at a massage parlor and by parlor; I'm pretty sure it was. I had to use it before they closed at 10:00pm, and yes, that should have been another clue. But I was feeling pretty happy with my recent purchase and called to schedule an appointment.
"No problem, you have Groupon? Come on in, we have 3:00 time for you." It was a Vietnamese parlor; some of you may already see where this is going.

I walk in and am I bit skeptical; two recliners are in the waiting room with a jumbo TV screen to watch 'video'. I didn't ask, but they did have plastic coated pictures of feet and all the pressure points on them...it's gotta be legit!

After waiting an hour and ten minutes, I am escorted to my room. Only the room doesn't have a door, just a curtain. The massage therapist, lays a sheet on the table and tells me to lay face down and then leaves. If these sheets were any thinner, you could see right through them. Do they even make 20 thread count sheets? If they do, that's what I had!

So I'm getting undressed and lay down on the table and drape the sheet over me. Did I tell you I only had a curtain? Well you can hear all kinds of things through curtains, but I'd waited this long and by golly I was gonna get a Shiatsu massage!

My therapist comes in and starts working me over like a prisoner on a chain gang hammering rocks. No explanation as to why I had to wait, do I ask or just roll with it? Before I can answer my own question, the curtain is pulled back and another lady walks in (she's the young one with the leather shorts, only 50 years old), and begins talking about something. I'm naked on a table with a 20 count sheet and they want to talk about lunch! They banter back and forth for about three minutes (five minutes might be an exaggeration) and then she closes the curtain and the massage starts back.

Do I flee or just stay and make the best of it..."at least you'll have a story."


About twenty minutes into the massage, I feel a heavy weight on the right side of the table, like someone is crawling up on the table...OH MY GOODNESS, she's crawling on to the table!!! Rub, rub, rub and then the unimaginable; yes, she straddles me on the table. A little 80 pound Asian woman that is 65 years old if she's a day, is sitting on my thighs with only 20 counts of thread between me and her. I don't know whether to scream or bust out laughing. At this point I think to myself (to keep from laughing or crying), "how much worse can this be?" Never ask yourself that question, you just might find out.

Two little knees balance themselves directly under my buttock as she lifts her entire body weight onto my back and thighs. Little bony knees, digging into my tail with only a sparse sheet in between us. She never stopped rubbing and working on my muscles. I wasn't relaxing and she wasn't stopping until I did. BREATHE, relax!

She climbed down after what seemed like an eternity and for a moment I thought she might do a somersault and start walking on my back. Luck was on my side, if for only a moment.


"Roll over, face up" was my next order; really? What's gonna happen next, this is just too much, how can I not laugh?

The sheet was crumpled up, barely covering the really private parts,and at this point I hardly even cared. I can only say I completely understand how these places get their nickname of "Happy Ending". If I would have been a guy, I don't think I would have had a choice; she tried to work out kinks and knots on my legs that I didn't even know hurt.

After what seems hours, she told me she was finished and then she left the room through the curtain. I just laid there for a few moments, trying to collect my thoughts and maybe a little of my dignity.

My back was less tense, my shoulders were less knotted and I did feel pretty good. "Helen" invited me back for another massage, apologized for the wait time and told me next time would be better.

I can check off Massage Parlor on my list of things to experience in life. I encourage you to go too; there's nothing naughty about it, just older ladies giving great massages. Just be ready for someone to climbed on your back; and you might want to bring your own sheet!

Whose Lesson Was it to Learn?

Some of you have known since it started, some found out later and even more are just now hearing about it. I had big scare with Breast Cancer; it is not Cancer, but we just weren't sure for a couple of months.

Lots of mammograms, sonograms, Breast MRI's, biopsies and finally last week the removal of some tumors and a duct, but like I said, it's not Cancer. I am blessed and lucky and humbled and grateful and any number of other words of gratitude; but this musing isn't about "what it may have been" but about what really happened to me, my family and my friends.

I believe that God does things and works miracles to teach us all a Lesson, I just couldn't see what Lesson I was supposed to learn, Stacy, Lisa and Michelle all individually told me, "maybe this isn't YOUR Lesson."

I'll let you decide and you let me know.

Like most things in my life, there's usually some sort of drama involved in it; admittedly most by my own design, but sometimes it is out of my control. This one was out of my control and straight into God's hand and God's plan. Everyone handles "news" differently, good news or bad news. I equate it to death, people grieve differently, there's no right or wrong way to do it; you start on a path and you have to hold on and be ready.

At the forefront of my path, I had to let it sink in; marinate; figure out next steps; but I did not try  to bargain with God. I made a conscience effort to take this "thing, what ever it might be" like a soldier. If the orders said Cancer, then Cancer it would be. Again, I had to let God go to work the idea of illness and on my Lesson.


It took awhile for me to realize that if it was Cancer, then there would be chemo or radiation afterwards. Lisa and I were swimming when that little nugget of wisdom hit me. She just smiled at me and said, "I was wondering when you'd think of that. We weren't going to bring it up, but yeah, there will be treatments. Don't worry, we're all here for ya." Lisa was on the path of strength for me, she's always fine.

Then there was Scott, who would not give me ANY sympathy throughout the whole ordeal. He just kept telling me, "there's people out there with REAL Cancer, Hope. We don't even know what yours is!" Very frustrating, but that was his way of navigating the path. He was right, I was fine.

The most humbling experience was at Stacy's salon. She has client/friend, young (early 30's), married, two children, both under three. She came in while I there, to have her head shaved because chemo was making her hair fall out and her head hurt. She had a double mastectomy when I first started on my path and this was the first time I'd seen her. SHE has REAL Cancer. I was humbled by her courage. This is her path, I pray she'll be fine. 

And finally, after it is all over but the healing, Michelle tells me she was afraid to pray for me, because if it was Cancer, then her prayers didn't work. Her prayers always work, she seems to have a direct line to God's Express Lane. While some of us pray and pray and don't get the answer we want so we give up; she prays and things happen. I really believe she prays for the right things for the right reasons. Her path was to strengthen her Faith and she walked it just fine.

So whose Lesson was it? I still don't know, maybe I never will and perhaps it was a Lesson for all of us.

I'm fine!

The Sounds You Might Be Missing, Could Be Just What You Need

Stop and take a few minutes to listen to your morning routine. Really listen to what your environment tells you; so many times we get up and "get on" with our day, we can miss the beautiful and small things; so often I fear we all do, I'm guilty.

So ,for the past week I've made it a point to listen.

I've listened to the sounds I make as I crawl out of bed; usually about ten minutes after Scott pops up and hits the floor. My bones crack and my ankles ache, I growl, stretch and then shuffle off.

I've listened to the same creak for a week as I walk out of the bedroom and shuffle across the hardwood floors. I never noticed that before; something new to fix on my to-do list.

I've listened as I click off the lamp in the living room that gives us all enough light at night to make our midnight snack run, and guide my Peanut Butter thief back to his room safely.

I've made note of the dishwasher door as it rolls open and groans, as it releases yet another load of clean dishes from last night. My son will be up shortly to clank the glasses together as they make their way back to the cabinet.

The slurping noise the coffee maker makes, as it drains hot water through the filter, reminds me that I have someone in my life that enjoys brewed Morning Mojo. I'm blessed to have the opportunity to set it up for him the night before; complete with cup and hazelnut syrup. My dear friend and sister-in-law, taught me this Language of Love; she would do this each night for her incredible husband. He is terribly missed; I think of him (and Nancy) everyday as the coffee brews.

I've listened to the rhythm of my "Espresso Creation"; every step from pouring the water into the machine, the cracking noise the beans make as I measure out just the right amount of espresso, to the soft crunch of the raw sugar being spooned out of the canister into the cup, and finally the screech of the last drops of the caramel brown nectar hitting the shot glass. It's all a very melodic song to wake me up and stir my senses. I've never noticed it before last week, because I wasn't listening.

And then it's so quiet and I listen for Peace.

I hear it outside in the rustle of the leaves on our willow trees; in the groan of the magnolia trunk as it gives in to the wind, blowing it North. I hear it as the our little friend Rabbit scurries across the yard boldly crossing our dog's path; and Sun Tzu not caring in the least about Rabbit, but being more interested in chewing the dirt from his paws. As the corn whispers from the farm next door, letting me know God's out there working for all the good of His people.

I hear the constant clang of the metal clasps on our flag pole out front, reminding me that we are indeed free and how lucky we are to enjoy those freedoms.

And finally, the best sound of all, "Mom!" as he stirs from his slumber in a big stretch and yawn.

Take a some time and listen to the sounds around you; I think you'll see love and joy where maybe you didn't. And I hope you find a few moments of Peace.

Vacuum Cleaners...Not Just for Your Rugs Anymore!

Who knew that there are so many other uses for vacuuming than just cleaning your carpets?! Maybe I was just having an "off day" or maybe my brain turned itself off and tuned into the calming whir of the vacuum, or maybe (and this is probably the case) I was just being lazy.

After sweeping my kitchen debris into neat little piles on the floor, I grabbed the vacuum from the game room closet where my son was playing with his LEGO's. I began as I normally do; plugging the rubbery hose to the vacuum so I have a "focused" suction and the crumbs (remember them from an earlier post?) don't blow across my floor. So I go rolling by the stove top I noticed a few dried penne pasta shells that had escaped the pot a few days earlier, yeah, you see it coming don't you? I reached that little hose thing in between the stove burners and VIOLA, it sucked those shells right up. Needless to say I was thoroughly impressed with my new found cleaning tool! It sucked up all manner of stuff on my stove top and flat top grill; it got the melted hard cheese from the quesadillas a few days earlier, it even got a morsel of egg from Sunday Brunch! I've never claimed to be a great house keeper.

I was so happy I wanted to try out more new time saving efforts, but first I emptied the whirly bin of trash and then started hunting! I made a sad attempt at vacu-dusting, but think I'll need a softer attachment, I tried to vacuum our dog, but he had no part of my Master Clean plan. As I retired the vacuum for the day and begin to put it back in the game closet, I looked around the game room; LEGOs everywhere!

I'm telling you I sucked up about twenty of them in no time flat, it was AWESOME! Little Luke Skywalker mini-figures whirling around in the bin, green bricks zipping past me in a fury of wind and then my son caught sight of what I was doing and ran to unplug my new cleaning device.

I'm still in trouble with him and he's not talking to me. But I retrieved all the LEGOs from the LEGO "torture device"; Luke has a few bumps and nicks, but I think secretly my son thought I was cool too! Or at least that's what I'm telling myself; that, and enjoying a few hours of silence!

When Is It Okay to Be "Mommy Protective"?

I've been facing an issue just this past week concerning my son, the Boy Scout. In the normal world you'd think Boy Scouts are just that Boys, but it seems his troop is different. When I say different, I mean the troop has one of "those" parents.

This particular parent, let's say it's a father for the sake of the story and for the sake of the truth. I receive a call from the father telling me my son, the Patrol Leader, is being too "heavy handed" on the patrol. A patrol is a smaller group of Scouts within the troop and my son was graciously voted their leader for a period of six months. So, my son is being too hard on his son and the Patrol in general. The father then asks me to speak to my son about his "behavior" and perhaps he should be more "nice".

I immediately put my work hat on, instead of the Mommy hat. The Mommy hat would have allowed me to tell this father to stop babying his child; to tell his child to grow a nut and talk to my son, the Patrol Leader if he had a problem with his leadership and being too harsh; the Mom in me really wanted to come through the phone line and smack this father for being a whiny parent...but luckily I put on my business hat, my business acumen.

I rationally (and calmly) told him I'd ask my son about his leadership skills and that perhaps he (my son) should speak with his Patrol about said skills. I also added that I felt my son was a fine leader and yes, sometimes he was a bit harsh, but he was leading a patrol of very young boys that were similar to herding cats in a rain storm!

I was hopeful that a call to our Scoutmaster, the adult leader, would put this whole thing behind us. I talked to my son, he agreed to talk to his patrol and to talk with a few of the adult leaders...DONE! Lesson learned, move on; he needs to be taught additional leadership skills, let's get him signed up for Scout Leadership Training Course (big duh, he's only 12 1/2 and this is his first leadership position).

Unfortunately, that didn't happen. I have not been reprised of the entire weekend's events and I'm not sure that I really want to know all the details; but I've been told that the father attended the camp out this weekend and asked the Scoutmaster for my son's resignation. I am also told the Scoutmaster courteously told him to "pound sand"!

That may be all I need to hear, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to be holding a grudge for this father as I move forward in life. I can't guarantee I'll be wearing my business hat next time I see him either; I kinda hope not. I'm a pretty fierce defender of my family, especially the one that herds cats!

My Zebra Friend- an Example of Better DNA

HEADS UP *Put on your "far reaching train of thought" cap for this one, but somehow, I made a connection.

I was driving past our Noah's Ark farm this weekend and noticed for the second time, the donkeys were being mean to Alfred, the zebra. If you read earlier posts' you know I'm not lying about our neighbor having an ark of animals; Alfred is the zebra.

It got me to thinking about our society being mean or showing disdain for people that are different from themselves. I wonder why "we" (again as a society, I'm sure you aren't like this) tend to hone in on peoples differences and showcase to the world how much better "we" are?

Is it our genetic DNA that wants to take over as Survival of the Fittest, Only the Strongest Survive? Surely within that same DNA, we have Nurture the Weak, Take Care of Those in Need gene too; don't we? Doesn't God tell us the Meek Shall Inherit the Earth?

I've seen our Superiority over Inferiority many times, and I unfortunately feel certain, I've been in that "Superior" group. What in the world is wrong with me! I'm not any better than anyone else on this planet, I know there's an abundance of better people than me, so what makes us act in such ways?

Maybe it's our own insecurities, our own lack of self-confidence and worth that allows us to belittle those less fortunate, those people smaller, weaker and at times more simple than us.

I wonder, what did Alfred do this weekend that made the two other donkeys bite and kick him? Two against one, never a fair play in any book. I watched as Alfred, simply laid down and after a minute or so, the donkeys tired and walked away. We're they jealous of Alfred's beautiful stripes, the fact he was NOT monochromatic or we're they just picking on the weak? I'm not sure, but I hope that I can change my outlook on life and not be a "jack-ass".

And yes, God did tell us "the Meek shall inherit the Earth" in the Beatitudes, Matthew 5:3-10. I should start "Being" those attitudes; I think the Alfred's of the world would agree.

When Did He Start Shutting His Bedroom Door?

I can't seem to pinpoint the exact date, maybe it's been a month or more, but I'm sure it's only been in the last week. My son has begun shutting his bedroom when he goes in for the evening to "do stuff".

Stuff, is categorized as watching tv, reading a book, doing homework or just hanging out. But all that used to happen with the door open; it wasn't until two nights ago when he was cleaning his room, I noticed the door was shut. I guess it's part of growing up, he's starting to mark his own private space, a place to call "his".

I remember when I was very young, the thought of closing my door scared me. I'd be in the room by myself and what if a monster came out of my closet; no one would know, because my door was shut. I can't remember when I started closing my door, just that one day it was absurd to think my door would EVER be open, at least not while I was in it. It just happened, I guess I started growing up, marking my private space too.

It's happening at our house and I have to respect it, like my parents respected mine. I look back now, and I'm sure my Mom was heartbroken; my Dad saddened by my need for privacy, I was growing up.

I'm feeling those same emotions now.

I understand his need to be independent, to have alone time, to mature, to be a ruler of his own domain, to grow up... but don't grow away. And if you do, I'll leave MY door open, in case you need to come in!

The Crumb Gnome Attacks My Kitchen Nightly!

It's gotta be a mysterious force or little gnome, that each night runs through my recently cleaned kitchen counter tops and hardwood floors and scatters crumbs and other interesting food products.

I've just about given up wiping everything down each evening after dinner. I meticulously clean the surfaces of each counter so they shine brightly as I turn of the lights for the evening. But somehow, in the morning, CRUMBS!

I've also recently acquired a Peanut Butter Bandit, he strikes in the middle of the night and helps himself to a spoonful (or two, I'm not sure) of Peter Pan Crunchy Peanut Butter. I'm not so concerned about him, at least he puts the spoon in the sink, most of the time anyway.

And finally, there seems to be an outbreak of PopTart Thievery. This one strikes in the middle of the night as well, accompanied by an insatiable desire for milk. The thief, unfortunately, leaves his crumbs in our bed...hmmmmm?

Well, it seems that I have many odd things happening during the night, maybe it's time to set up a video camera; or just giggle each morning at the crumbs, peanut butter and silver PopTart wrappers that are left for me that NOBODY did during the night! Yea, that sounds better.

Why do Sunday's feel so different?

I really believe Sunday is my favorite day of the week. There just seems to be something so magically about Sunday. It's the only day we all sit down a the breakfast table and share a meal. Usually I shuffle around each morning going from the espresso machine to the refrigerator to put together a suitable breakfast for the boys and then off to tackle the day.

But on Sunday, everything seems fresh, the pace is slower and more peaceful. The pans don't clang together as loudly as they do on a Wednesday when I'm out of cereal and am forced to cook eggs and bacon. My boys don't seem to be as grumpy when they tumble out of bed; their hair is still as messy, their pj bottoms are still askew on their little frames, but somehow, it all works!

I enjoy cooking breakfast with my better half; he's certain his pancakes are the best and on Sunday, they really are! He makes the pancakes with a different ingredient each week, sometimes its bananas, maybe a double hint of cinnamon one week and we are really treated when chocolate chips enter the scene WITH the bananas. Whatever it is, we're all enjoying a peaceful and joyous morning.

That harmony seems to follow us through the whole day. At church we sit as a family, sing as a family and worship as a family...again it's magical!

On the way home, we plan what the rest of the day has in store for us. Can a friend come over? What's for lunch? Do we have any gardening to do? Can't I simply lay by the pool and sip a cool glass of wine? Sunday seems like everyone gets to do what they want and we do it together.

On Sunday, we're a family with no stress, lots of laughs and hugs, but most importantly, we're a family and there's the magic!

I'm Afraid Noah's Ark is Down the Street

I'm thinking we all may need to start working diligently on our relationship with God. Not only has it rained for what seems like FOREVER, but my neighbors have recently purchased two camels! As if two camels weren't enough to pique my curiosity, they also have a zebra, a miniature buffalo, two funky looking deer, a slew of horses and a bunch of cows.

They live on about twenty or so acres and their house sits far from the road. I'm wondering what's going on behind their house. Maybe there's an Ark back there; it would explain the pairs of animals, it might also explain the rain?

If I see elephants or wildebeests' I'm getting my rain boots and life jacket out! Yea, I'll be the "eccentric lady" in the neighborhood; so if you see me now you know why. Just wave and send up a prayer for me, I need all I can get!

Until I think of something more interesting,
HAM

How Long Can It Really Take to Name Your Blog?

Apparently quite a long time. I'm sure I put WAY too much effort in trying to think of just the right name; one that expressed my inner most thoughts and personality. One that made you (the reason I'm here) say, "wow, she's got great insight into this crazy universe! I should follow her every waking thought!" We'll maybe not that prolific, but I'd would have liked something close to that train of thinking.

So, I ended up with TeamPlatypi. It's actually the most perfect name for my blog, but what exactly does it mean? Allow me to tell you.

A platypus by definition:

platy·pus (plat′ə pəs)

noun pl. platypuses -·puses or platypi -·pi′ (-pī′)

a small, aquatic, egg-laying monotreme mammal (Ornithorhynchus anatinus) of Australia and Tasmania, with webbed feet, a beaverlike tail, and a ducklike bill.

In short, it's a rather odd animal, it loves the water and the males have a venomous spur in it's hind legs it uses to attack predators.

A family of platypus, or platypi, would be a unique sight for sure. And that my friend, is exactly what we are! We're a mish-mash of two families, created by some unknown force (aka God) and we will fiercely fight to protect one another, but normally we can be pretty fun and docile.

We all love the water, specifically we are ocean-loving sailors. We get away to the warm waters every chance we get, just to relax, sail and dine on the treasures from the ocean. We know we are lucky and hopefully don't lose sight of that too often.

My thoughts tend to be very random, but I truly look for the humor in everything I encounter. I hope you enjoy my stories, my thoughts, my passions and sorrows.

I work on developing a great ending tagline, but it might take awhile!

HAM