Making Decisions

Well, there's nothing like a good round of cathartic decision-making to scare the bejeezus out of you. I am constantly reevaluating my current educational path and decided to give it another hard think. I realized that my current path was challenging only from a time-constraint perspective and had the major fault of potentially being less effective than I knew I could be if I chose my next path which I can only refer to as the "I told you so" path.

You see, plan A was to end up with my Nurse Practitioner's license and Paramedics license and retreat to my small town (and a couple other interests) that need my help and expertise. I realized, though that the NP track was going to take me longer and have fewer opportunities for financial aid and less independence than, say, PA school. Never mind that my primary spiritual advisor told me to go to PA school three years ago. I mean, really, what does he know?! Uncannily, he really does seem to hear quite a lot and had I listened to him I'd be done with it all now and have my clinic open and growing.

So, here I am three years late and it's the faster, cheaper option. So here I go. I have to take the MCAT again (mine's got to be too old)and see what else I lack course-wise and where I have options to go. It's not that drastic of a change, but will implement med-school-like conditions around my house for about two or so years and one holy-hell-of-a-commute. Yuck. Thank goodness for family. I hope my kids forgive me for the absence, but as a parent in need of options for paying for things long-term, I gotta get some things going here. Perhaps when they're eight and eleven they'll forgive me for having my head crammed in a book for most of their early childhood years. Love those kids. Or I would just get a job at the grocery store. Ok, no, too boring, but you get my drift. Gosh I hope my mind continues to work...

Waitin' for things to gel...
Scat

This is Really February 23rd

Really, it is. I swear. At least for a bit.

I've been committed to posting something, anything, everyday and yesterday I was too swamped and too sick to even motivate myself to turn the lights on when I arrived home. Tuesday was marathon day at school 9a-9p and two exams during that time period. Also, I woke up with a sore throat/headache the likes of which I have not had since childhood. You remember those sore throats you used to get that made you refuse to swallow ANYTHING for days! Even spit. One of those. EEK.

I did finally get the headache marginally under control, but the throat is still killing me and swallowing is something I have to psyche my self up for. It totally ruined my daily Dr. Pepper intake 'cause the fizz burnt like the dickens and my jeans-shopping escapade was downgraded from a pleasant, leisurely shopping trip that included some other interests to a mad dash for the jeans rack and the cashier and back out into my car and home. Bare necessities. I really couldn't stand another day of hiking my pants up or wearing my yoga pants that the wind cuts straight through.

In short, the day stank. I had a great idea for a blog entry, but alas you'll have to read it today, which, OK, is really February 24th.

Whatever,

Scat

Building Things and Growing Up

Building Things...
Scats are builders by nature. Clanpaw built this house we all live in as well as the house they lived in previously. When Attrition was little, Mom and Dad used to scavenge the dumpster behind Wal-Mart for broken electronics. They'd give them to Attrition and he'd fix them. Attrition always had cherry electronics (not jealous). When Squib got his first tool set, the first thing he did was disassemble the door knob (every Scat disassembles before they assemble--ugh).

Me? I build, too. Mostly lab equipment at first, but I just recently built this:

His name is Ren (and yes, there is a Stimpy for those of you who were still MTV devotees in the late eighties/early nineties). This is Ren's 1000 Watt power supply. Overkill, but the powers that be wanted higher wattage, so they got it. Here are more of Ren's guts:

He's "smart" so-to-speak and has LOTS of storage in his two 1T RAID drives (which are arrayed--THANK GOD FOR THAT! I'm tired of watching my workstation collapse and drag my data down with it! Despite the odd, tangled mess that are his insides, he's slick and my current fave of the two workstations. I was pretty proud after I finally got him together. Every single solitary piece was ordered separately and had to be installed and configured. Took me an entire day, but I LEARNED! Yay!

Not all our building/repair projects are so successful. The first collaboration between Attrition and myself was rather disastrous if you want to know the truth. He was driving an Isuzu trooper at the time and it needed a brake job. Soooo...we decided we were smart and could just get our hands on the book at the local O-Reilly's and fix them ourselves. And that is precisely what we did. The job

required bleeding the brake lines and though I cannot be sure, I think something went wrong during the process of replacing the brake fluid.

About twenty minutes after he left my driveway, he called to say that both rear wheels caught fire on the way to his house. Fortunately, he had a fire extinguisher in the car (it was a wedding gift) and was able to put out the fires. He limped it home (around the block) and had it towed and repaired, if I remember correctly.

I'd love to tell you that deterred us from repairing our own cars, but, well, no it hasn't. I think the next attempt will be tie-rods on my van. Wish us luck. Here's hoping the front wheels don't fall off after we try this...

Beanstalk is not much of a builder, but he's a definite appreciator of great architecture. And, like his mother he has a fascination with fountains. Who could blame him for that?

Squib is always building something. Yesterday it was an apartment complex:

He came up with it on his own. Then I asked where I was going to live and he came up with this:

This is my "retirement condo." Just don't ask me where he got that phrase. I certainly never taught him that. However, if he wants to build me a condo when I reach retirement age (which is probably when they bury me) I'll be glad to take it!

Growing Up

Watching your kids grow up can be awesome, hysterically funny, frustrating, and sometimes downright annihilating. Beanstalk lost his first tooth on Thanksgiving Day and I was reminded of all the pain that dang tooth caused him in the first place and almost cried. I'm sorta attached to those teeth. But the real hoot today goes, as usual, to SqB.

We only have showers, no bathtubs. So, I usually drag him in the shower with me 'cause he's too big for the sink and trying to bathe him from the sidelines is pointless. This morning, he looks at me very seriously and says: "Mommy? You don't got a wee-wee. But you gots TWO of THOSE (he points)!!" I'm thinking it's time for him to shower with his grandpa.

Who are these kids and where did they come from?
Scat

They're On the Loose!!!

...running the proverbial streets! Deciding to "hang it all" and "be themselves" and their motto is: "Screw it!"

This has to have been one of the most stressful and hysterical set of three days in my experience. Dealing with cancer in the family is bad enough. Dealing with cancer in TWO members of the family seems really over the top.

But they're Scats. So...

Scat number one has decided on a "quiet" protest. It works like this. If he has to endure chemo, then he's not wearing his hearing aids. This means he's stone, cold deaf. So, if he wants to start a conversation, he does...right in the middle of the one you're already having. If he wants to watch a movie, he does, and turns the volume up all the way making the whole house unbearable even when I wear my hearing protection from the shooting range. It's only natural for a deaf person to speak at a level they can hear, so when he speaks, it's like E.F. Hutton...people listen...because they have to. If you've been sitting quietly and he sneaks up closely behind you (he's not one for personal space--another deaf characteristic) and begins speaking, you'll most likely levitate three feet before you can help yourself. He's always been ornery. It's been increasing with age. This is bringing it out in him in subtle, but distinct ways.

Scat number two made her turn to the cantankerous side by proclamation. I was seated with her in their private seating area when she announced that she had decided to "pout and gripe and moan." Anyone who knows her knows this is totally against her nature and, truly, she hasn't pouted, griped, or moaned by definition but she has made a definite turn to the cantankerous side. Her surgery came off without a hitch this Monday and it was my pleasure (and a hoot to boot) to sit with her on Tuesday. I was there with her for twenty minutes after her surgery during which she proclaimed the nasal oxygen canula "unnecessary" (it was replaced within the hour and accompanied by a pulse oximeter linked to her PCA pump. Not enough O2 and she got locked out of her little self-controlled pain medicine pump. Talk about putting a bug under her rug. I decided that was a good time to leave.

Day two: She announced that she "rather enjoyed having her meals brought to her on a regular basis without having to do any work." Uh oh. Rhythm (my aunt) and I were admonished to note this announcement. Great. Her surgeon came to see her and her first words were "Where have you been?!" I would think the answer obvious, but nevertheless she had no recollection of seeing him since her pre-op visit and there was no convincing her otherwise. He explained the effects of anesthesia and she very stubbornly informed him that THAT would NEVER happen to HER! He tucked in a very wide grin as he stared at his shoes. A sign had been placed on her door that said "Fall Hazard" and it came with a bracelet. She's a spry old lady and this was just an out-and-out insult. "These people!" "Uf!" So she announced she was ready to go home Wednesday morning. Doc said early Wednesday afternoon.

Day Three: She apparently didn't hear the doc 'cause she was rarin' to go, dressed and ready THIS MORNING. She even forced the nurse to go over all her release instructions. Well, all the ones she had. Called me and made me go to the pharmacy and get her medicine 'cause she'd be home SOON. So I went. And I came back. Then she called and informed me she wasn't going to wear her seat belt on the way home. Under any circumstances. I very politely told her to find another ride. They released her at 3 pm, much to her chagrin, she found her ride, came home, and after a thirty minute nap she has spent the entire evening ordering Scat One around the house like a slave. And THANK GOD SHE HAS!!!! They are currently "enjoying" the most deafening screening of Patch Adams ever shown. After which, yours truly will empty and measure her drains so she can go to sleep (with the peanut gallery telling me how to do it all along the way).

Tomorrow, Turkey Day and I, for one am thankful both GrandScats are still with us...but they sure are funny.

Never a Dull Moment!

Scat

The Best Things In Life

Yup, they're free!

OK, well, mostly free...

For starters, that little sliver of a crescent moon we had last night was gorgeous. Squib has become very interested in the moon lately and I seem to have caught his wonder and awe that there's a ball of rock orbiting our lovely planet. I'm starting to really enjoy looking at the moon again and even though it was just a sliver last night, you could still see varying colors in the reflected light.

I love the way Beanstalk sings along with all the music he hears! When the song ends, he throws his hands in the air and cries "Yay, yay, yay!" His grin breaks wide across his face and his extra-long stick-like arms wave around like crazy. He has no reservations. If he's happy about the music he'll respond whether he's in church, at playgroup, or at home watching a DVD. Total abandon.

Nothing beats that feeling I get when Squib totes his blanket over to where I'm sitting and says, "Momma, I want to sit in you lap." And he crawls up in my lap and nestles in and pulls his blanket up over the both of us and smooths it out and we sit and talk, read, or watch a DVD and talk about the movie. He can't just sit through a movie. He has to discuss whatever Thomas the Tank Engine or Handy Manny or Bob the Builder is doing and WHY??

Beanstalk loves to be a part of the game when any sport is being played. His varying disabilities keep him from actually playing, but he absolutely loves sitting on the sidelines cheering (for both teams) even though he'd rather be laying flat on his back on the fifty yard line watching the ball being passed over him...you've never enjoyed watching a live game until you've watched one with Beanstalk.

Every night, Squib has a little ritual we have to go through at bedtime. I have to give kisses to all his little animals, etc. I sing to him, we say a little prayer, and then the most sacred part of all: three kisses. Not for him, but for me. He HAS to kiss me on the cheek, then my forehead, and then on my other cheek. If, for whatever reason, we don't do the kisses a very teary-eyed boy will come find me after a few minutes. I didn't teach him to do it. It was totally his idea. And I hope he keeps it up for years and years. Baby kisses keep me going (and yes, he will always be my baby!).

Exploring. Squib has the exploring bug that, I guess, comes with being a Scat. We all love to explore. Little towns, big towns, trails, hotels, churches, hospitals, caves you name it. The world, come to think of it. If there are three ways to get somewhere, we know about it. Wandering off in no particular direction is oddly alluring and in many ways comforting. It makes the world seem approachable and familiar. Now that I have children I can't believe how very far my parents used to let me wander the hills and valleys where we lived!! But I'm glad they did it. I felt free. I feel free. And tackling the world is just that much less disconcerting.

Last, and probably least, are the creature comforts....things that seem to make my days enjoyable and put a smile on my face...

...cherry Dr. Pepper (over ice w/straw).

...my fave pair of blue jeans.

...Sunday lunch at the Hop with my brother, Attrition.

...listening to loud music via my iPhone/headphones while I work.

...rockin' out with Attrition drums and me singing my head off on Sunday a.m.'s Heck I even like it when we "try somethin'" and the wheels come off...

...cool fall weather that makes outdoor activities pleasant.

...watching movies.

...reading books (which I like to do WAY more than watch movies).

...and last, but not least, writing.

Enjoy!

Scat

This Day Just Stinks...

And it stinks big time.

Squib and I got home from the week in Houston proper at about ten this morning to a very quiet house. He strode through the door with his usual bravado and paused in the doorway with his chest puffed out and declared "I'm here!" "Here" had at least four syllables in it. I get the biggest kick out of that. It's like he's Tarzan or something and is about five seconds away from pounding his chest and letting loose a primordial yell. All male, that one.

Just Buddy and Mimi were here. Hogging the recliners, I might add.

I am all conferenced out, sick and tired of working with the Arkansas Oil and Gas Commission's database, and the spreadsheet that ate New York City (this thing is huge) has been giving me fits. Most of the week I've been in mourning for the days when I really feel like I'm doing something like pouring, mixing, weighing, distilling, titrating, etc. Number crunching IS important but I don't exactly find it satisfying. RocketDog (my laptop) has been giving himself his own things to do and really seems to think that my iTunes needs to be opened every five minutes, so he obviously has some sort of problem I have to track down.

But, so far the day had not TRULY reeked. Yet

Papa and Baba returned from Sadler Clinic and we all sat down to lunch (spaghetti with Buddy's homemade sauce and green beans--yummy). Over lunch, the real suckage began.

Both grands had been to their respective docs. Both grands have now been diagnosed with cancer. Papa has prostate cancer which has metastasized to the pelvic bone (NOT bone cancer he says despite the word "bone" that follows the word "pelvic"). Baba has breast cancer.

This sucks. No two ways about it. And, unlike most Scats, I have not inherited the ability to make jokes about it or appreciate the jokes they make about it. They're alert, articulate, agile people who could pass for mid-sixties/early seventies though they're in their early eighties and still capable of enjoying life with no hindrances. The one exception is that my grandfather is rather hard-of-hearing. Big deal.

He still does all the yard work because he likes it--DO NOT get in his way. The geophysical work he does with Dad and I is a hobby. She still runs all the errands and goes to the gym because she likes it--and don't you dare try stopping her, either. They read incessantly, teach, visit with their friends, take lots of walks, love to watch movies, and generally enjoy life. So, no, I am not ready to joke about their death (which I don't exactly see coming yet regardless of the news). It seems off-color and premature.

But listen to their grisly jokes is exactly what I had to do as they fielded the calls this afternoon. I couldn't even work because I was getting data in the wrong fields and was just generally unable to pay attention--and getting downright weepy (odd for me).

So I played with my new toy from one of my favorite places: http://thinkgeek.com It's a Quadrilla (you have GOT to try one of these!). Kudos to them for making an awesome, creative, wooden toy for all ages. It's for Beanstalk, but I had to "test" it :) Just to be safe. Now I "need" some of the add-on sets. And I'm using the word "need" here! Not just your average marble track-building set. It's a remarkable testament to the Quadrilla that it was sufficiently distracting on this particular day.

Squib woke from an awesome nap and we tried to play chutes and ladders, but we never landed on any ladders and kept hitting all the chutes. That sucked, too, and I lost interest almost before he did. I asked him if he wanted to try a different game and he said "I really don't think so, Mom." 'nuff said.

So here we are...being vegetables and watching Bob the Builder. We WOULD be in the kitchen eating dinner, but there's thunder outside. That's four-yr.-old logic for you. He asked if this was a hurricane because he "donna wunna tate a baff wike dat." He's referring to the well-water bucket bath I gave him before the propane stove was fixed during IKE. To be fair, I took one, too, but I agree that it belongs in the fifth circle of hell. Dang, that was cold. It's been a year and he still mentions it at least every other week. So, we're both obviously thinking happy thoughts right now.

He also wants to know if I can make the thunder go away...yeah...Mommy, goddess of thunder. Riiiight.

Scat

The List

This idea is totally stolen from Chris at Notes from the Trenches, but I thought it was a cool idea and a very thought-provoking exercise. Forty things I'd like to accomplish before I turn forty. Two-and-a-half years is sounding like five minutes right now.

My 40 before 40 list:

1. Go on a date with a decent man.

2. Toilet train all my kids (Half way there...8/10/2010. Cha-ching! Done.0).

3. Get another dog. I believe firmly in liberating what I call "pound dogs." Got a chicken, instead. Her name is Houdini McNugget

4. Lose forty pounds for good (15 to go 8/10/2010).

5. Improve my credit score. Hmmmm....

6. Visit/tour Hoover dam with the boys.

7. Get all my teeth fixed for the LAST time. Yeah, bad teeth are in the family.

8. See all my relatives (this is a mammoth undertaking and probably overrated).

9. Hear Alex call me Momma again.

10. Find a way to keep my house clean without the gnashing of teeth.

11. Consistently grow the gardens from season to season.

12. Add herbs/spices to the gardens.

13. Write a book.

14. Ride the Roaring Tornado again.

15. Go to New Braunfels and float like a river rat for days.

16. Own a King-Sized bed and sleep diagonally.

17. Take the boys on their first camp-out (probably on our land).

18. Take the boys on their second camp-out (not on our land).

19. Simplify.

20. Expand my library. (mwahahaha)

21. Start taking pictures again.

22. Hike the Lone Star Trail (yes, all of it, and for no particular reason other than it's there).

23. Revisit Enchanted Rock.

24. Go on a cruise, OK two. One where I am a total lazy bum and another aboard one of the scientific research vessels that cater to us geek-head tourists.

25. Get out of debt. This is gonna be a miracle given the medical expenses of my kids, but a very healthy goal (and it's actually happening! Yay!).

26. Learn how to make soap (I'm leaving this one b/c it's random and weird and even I am wondering WTH I was thinking when I wrote it).

27. Integrate essential oils into my health regimen (mostly done 8/10/2010).

28. Write more consistently.

29. Love without fear. Live without fear (that's really two).

30. Have confidence in myself and my abilities.

31. Learn how to make my own candles (again with the earth momma crafty stuff that I really don't find appealing).

32. Visit Tokyo again...for about two weeks alone. Go again sometime and take my boys with me.

33. Stay in better contact with friends and acquaintances.

34. Relax and enjoy each day without care or worry for tomorrow.

35. Teach something (again).

36. Build something.

37. Review my genealogy with my grandfather so I can continue the work when he is gone.

38. Pay more attention to the world I live in and contribute (I think the clinic idea fits in here).

39. Attend my high school and college reunions (strike one and strike two for the 20 and 15 year marks due to circumstances beyond my control).

40. Ride in a hot air balloon.

Wow, that's a lot! And you?

Exiting the Dating Scene...

With a big flop.

Or maybe a kerplunk.

A giant swan dive, perhaps. Into an olive that has had a little too much martini already.

Nevertheless, I am declaring yet another a time out. For an indefinite period of time.

I seem to ultimately attract one man. Sadly, I can count them all without completely using two hands.

First, they all claim to really know how to treat a woman. Truly I have no specific expectations in this department, but when someone feels the need to claim such a thing right off the bat, I do start to worry. "Real" dates (whatever that means)...dinner, dancing (dancing? really?). No movies cause you really can't get to know someone while sitting through a movie (I understand this, but inevitably we end up renting a movie parked on a sofa somewhere, so actually entering a theater to see one might be nice on rare occasion). Walks, etc. Flowers. I've seen the dinners, yes sort of. And once, one of them gave me flowers. My ex did give me flowers on Mothers' Day...a couple times? Two of them were good at gift-giving, though the gifts from the second one have since fallen apart. Hmmm. Clue: It really doesn't take all that much. Simple attentiveness. Being yourself. Having fun. Going places. Doing stuff. Getting a glimpse at each others' lives. Candy and flowers have their place, I suppose, but aren't really necessary. Quality time...that's priceless.

Second, the royal treatment (see above paragraph) lasted less than about two weeks during which time there was maybe one or two "real dates" and then we're on someone's sofa watching movies (see!!?!) that I not only didn't have any option/help to pick, but didn't want to see again and again (or, ok, ever)... I should say that "the royal treatment" is not something I really expect, but I'm a person that likes a smidgen of variety on occasion and going and doing...I DO like to watch movies. Very much. But exclusively? Especially certain movies. Um, no...

Let me make a caveat here....there is a place in this world for Ace Ventura, Hot Shots, Naked Gun, Pauly Shore movies, David Spade, Adam Sandler, Will Ferrell, Police Academy, Napoleon Dynamite and the like. I suppose. And I am being nice here. But, to watch these types of movies exclusively is a special kind of torture. One I have endured too long. I've lost seven YEARS worth of sci fi, mystery, and the like to fart-joke movies that, quite frankly, I seem to remember after the first time I saw them.

Now, Star Wars? I'll watch that repeatedly (some of them). Ditto for some of the Star Treks and many of other films you would think are definitely outside the chick flick arena. I'm not wishing any brand of special torture on anyone.

Third, not to put it so delicately, they seem to think that after about two dates or less I'm obligated to have sex with them. Usually after less time than that. I really don't think so and that causes a problem. So, uh, no. Enough said.

Fourth, a handful of the handful seem to have real anger issues. Which means there are occasions when I definitely don't like how they treat me and there are definitely times when I don't like how they treat others. Two have been very proud of being "assholes" (yes, they said that verbatim out loud--this is the staggering part that I REALLY don't like) and really seem to enjoy their poor treatment of certain people in their lives.

Run away, run away!!!

Fifth, they just aren't that smart. This may sound derogatory, but I really have a need to be able to have a decent discussion on occasion. Not dumb down my language. Maybe even speak on occasion. Not looking for Einstein, here. Just a person who thinks or on occasion wants to put two and two together. Coming up with four would be a bonus. (That does sound harsh, doesn't it?)

I'm not saying all men are pigs. In fact, they aren't. Just the ones I seem to run into--and to be fair I've not been hanging around in a lot of places lately where I'm likely to run into anyone even remotely interesting. I know many who seem great and they are (mostly) married. I'm sure there are some out there who are even single. Just none that I know. And...none who seem interested in an intelligent, single mom who works hard and likes to enjoy life and not spend most of it sitting on the sofa watching B movies.

Yep, I'm a bit of a geek--both scientifically and "computerifically"--I do odd things like read and write and hike in no particular direction. I have quirks of my own. I have faith and strong beliefs. I love music and dancing and really get off my rear and do both. And, apparently, those are undesirable qualities to the average mid-thirties to mid-forties male. I said average, not every.

So, I officially give up. For a time, I guess. Not forever. Ugh. I am just weary of this.

Gonna go sleep in a tree,

Scat

A Nice End to the Day

Today, oops, yesterday really turned out to be a very nice day. It was not without its humorous moments, sarcasm, and sheer bizarre qualities, but all totaled, very nice.

I was so right about Squib and his sense of timing with regard to company. He has the child's knack for turning on the cute. He did a bang-up job of being not only cute, but fun, intelligent, and down-right endearing. [Gave everyone (and I mean everyone) a kiss and a hug before bed. I almost barfed. He'd make a great politician at this point.]

Our friends arrived from Oklahoma about 4:30 and by then Squib was so jacked up he was jumping up and down and screaming "Dhey Hewe!" and charging the door. He and Buddy made it to the door before SqB remembered that he really didn't know Sharon and Robert and his shyness kicked in. It was like a dog hitting the end of his chain. He jerked up short and played shy for a while. Clung to me like a piece of lint until we got to the Mexican restaurant.

We sat around talking for a bit before we headed out to the mystery restaurant. None of us had ever been there, but it "has bench seating" so it qualified as a "westauwant."

The restaurant was surprisingly good...which for this no-pizza town is amazing. SqB ordered a corn dog he never ate, belched during the blessing, but that was pretty normal. Little did I know they were also the purveyor of "Scooby Snacks" which for you deprived children is the fave of Scooby Doo. Michael saw Scooby Doo for the first time recently and by the door of the restaurant they had one of those candy machines that dispenses little handfuls of candy for a quarter. These were shaped like bones....hence, "Scooby Snacks." I thought he'd lost his mind when he started claiming that they sold them, but I should know better by now than to contradict him. Ever. So, he actually had a random quarter and made his very first purchase of anything. Scooby Snacks.

Apparently Robert had done something right during the evening because Robert got a Scooby Snack. Not me.

When we returned from the restaurant, some friends of my grandparents from out of town had stopped by and after moving in some chairs, we had quite a gathering.

Sharon brought in some cupcakes and we had a surprise, impromptu birthday party for Mom followed closely by a mind-numbing discussion of health care. Sometimes your mind is just not capable of discussing health care. Dad and I admittedly regressed into our chairs with our iPhones. He was playing Spider Solitaire and I was busy throwing my body off five-story buildings in Assassin's Creed. Seemed an appropriate commentary on health care at the time. SqB was busy with his new Black and Decker toy tool set. He took the door knob off the office door earlier today, so anything short of that must be an improvement, yes?

Health care discussion ran off the second set of guests and SqB went to bed, though not without calling me "Stupidhead" and reaping the consequences. Parenting can really reek at times. The rest of us drifted, discussed the best way to drive to Austin from here (which is probably not to drive there at all), and decided to break it up until breakfast....

...which is in another five hours. And you got it. Here I sit in the recliner.

This chair was purchased seven and a half years ago by myself and my first husband just prior to Beanstalk's birth. I was thinking of rocking babies and comfort in the last days of pregnancy and NOT that it might become my bunk when said babies took over my living quarters.

Would definitely have gone with the leather had I known that. And the massaging thingies.

But I thank God every night that the silly thing swivels or I'd have to stare at the glare from the safety light that is just sticking up in the middle of a piece of land I affectionately call the Grassy Knoll. It used to be a pond and that light had a purpose. Now? Well, let's just say I have prayed for it's demise during two hurricanes to no avail.

Such is life...

Scat

Various and Sundry

No one thing is leaping out at me today except for the singularly unique nature of my family and our current living situation.

This first segment is called "How to Build Confusing Houses."

For as long as I can remember, Papa (gpa) has been building his own houses. I'm not talking about extensive remodeling--that's child's play. I'm talking from the piers up. The last house was rather elaborate and, yes, took somewhere around eleven (so double that number) years to complete what with all the adding on.

Elaborate doesn't mean fancy...it generally means as mathematically and physically difficult to construct as possible.

For example: A bridge was needed to cross a gully to the land he owned on the other side. Bridges can be rather simple, right? Right. But would a geophysicist really pick a simple design?

Not this one.

He built a suspension bridge. And for added difficulty, he built it alone. At the ripe old age of 78.

Fast forward to present day. The current design for the common areas is like a donut of sorts. A square one. The north arm of the loop is the entry-way with a desk no one uses, storage (mostly unused), and an area simply designed for the phone near as I can tell. The West arm of the loop is the living room, the South is the dining area, and the East is the kitchen.

There is NO HOLE in this donut. Instead, there is this multi-purpose structure that has two functions. FIRST.....it's the pantry (East), shelf (North), entertainment center (West), and china cabinet (South).

SECOND....it is designed to keep us all chasing each other in circles around it because we can't see through it or over it. If we were the kind of people to hold still and agree on a meeting place this donut hole would be fine, but NO!!!! We're go-getters. Can't find anyone? Then you're just NOT GOING FAST ENOUGH!!!!! So far today, Buddy and Michael chased each other around in circles several times and Buddy and Papa did the same as well. It was all I could do to get Papa 0to stand still so Buddy could find him!!!!!!

And now "Little Snippets of Conversation."

Do you ever wonder what people might think if all they heard was one sentence taken out of context from your day?

Today's snippets?

"Put the knife on the table before you crawl up there!" (me to Squib)

"God, I need a screwdriver." (the tool, not the drink, though the drink might help)

"I'm gonna watch Mommy shower!" (Squib...what can I say, he's male.)

And, finally, "The Spreadsheet and Play-doh Update."

After four hours, Buddy is STILL trying to fix the mangled spreadsheet from yesterday's ordeal. Yes, even with all his help, it still came out, well, inoperable.

As for the lump (about the size of a baseball) of Play-doh, well, it's still AWOL.

"And now," cried Max, "Let the wild rumpus start!!!!!!"

Scat

What a Disaster! Wait....It's Just My Life!

Maybe I do need to become one of those survivalist types. My house is quickly becoming a disaster area that I cannot recover from.

Kiddos come and go. I switch sleeping areas. Attrition comes and goes every weekend. Sometimes I go with him to his home for psychological time out. I work full time. When kids are here, I mommy full time and work full time while they sleep.

Everything eventually gets done, just not at a consistent pace. It's more like fits and starts and lobs and lurches.

Tonight I have a meeting for a new not-for-profit organization and we're in the early stages of incorporation so this afternoon I'll be consumed by work on the company's bylaws and other parts of the articles of incorporation. I'm super excited about the company and will devote an entry to it eventually, but for now it is one of many things that stands between me and the tidiness of my home.

The thing about my life is that it is full of things I love doing. I love hanging out with Squib and watching the Rescuers six times while we build killer train routes, create disastrous ten-car pile-ups, and roll anything and everything down our home-made ramp. I love it when he says, "I want to sit in YOU lap!." I hate it when he gets in trouble 'cause I'm now the adult, but that's usually dealt with shortly and we move on through our day. I love to see him during his nap when it looks like he's been dropped from space into his bed. A napping little boy always looks so much younger and more innocent...hard not to sneak in and smother them with kisses.

I love my writing. Blogs, diaries, memoirs...all of it. I love to put down the stories of my life and the questions I have in writing. I like documenting my family's goings on. I like writing letters and keeping them for posterity. I like writing about important personal occurrences and how I felt and how they change me. All of it. I even enjoy editing these writings so that I become a better writer!

I love singing. Singing truly is a passion that comes from my heart because I just open my mouth and let 'er rip. When it's with the praise team at church, there's lots of rehearsal and attention to lyrics, proper breathing, pitch, breathing, and things like actually using those stomach muscles I work on so hard at the gym. And, in the end, it's about praise. I'm a Christian. So, praising the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are important to me. They are essential to me.

And there is much more....my work (the actual work for money), hiking, family, friends, and reading.

So, I ask you...how do YOU do it? How do you do life and keep the disaster at bay? I seem to always be on the losing end of that battle...hmmmm.....

Scat