Lego Lunatics

As you can see, we have alot of Legos. And now we have alot of Legos in nice, neat, color-coded, little, organized piles all over the floor. Ahhh, this is an anal person's heaven. I LOVE to organize! I convinced the boys that this would be a fun activity. Bennett held on longer than I expected, so I'm giving him a participation ribbon for: A Job Well Done For A 5 Year Old Attention Span. Gavin, however, was as excited as me at this venture. I could see the organizational flow chart taking shape in his neatly compartmentalized little brain. Only a few more years as my apprentice and he me might just outdo me in this category. But the icing on the cake was that we actually had FUN doing this for 3 hours straight.

And color coding isn't the only thing we did. That was just the beginning. We went out and bought our very own Lego Container (and got it 40% off too!). Not that Lego makes such a thing, but we invented our own. Boy does it feel good to be efficient, thrifty and organized all at the same time! Gavin and I were giddy with excitement at the challenge that lay ahead. How were we to organize all these Legos? Should we separate by color, piece, size, length? This challenge was growing by the minute.

Daddy is also willingly sharing in all this fun - with equal, unabashed excitement. I mean, if this is how you're willing to spend an entire Saturday afternoon, you have to really believe in what you are doing. Organizing the kids' Legos is an area near and dear to Chuck's and my heart. We put our heads together and came up with a game plan. We delegated responsibilities between the 4 of us (Bennett was still slightly more happy to be doing this than taking a nap) and never looked back.

Here is just one of the seven modules we pain-stakingly devoted our afternoon to. To be honest, I'm slightly disappointed that I had to combine colors, but at least like pieces were put with like pieces. I had to concede on that one. Otherwise, we would have probably ended up with 30 perfect bins and one Mommy highly over-protective of her perfectly organized Legos that they would be for-looking-at-only. That probably wouldn't go over very well with my kids. Therefore, I have proposed an adequate solution. Whenever they would like to play Legos, I will be ever present to help retrieve and/or replace a piece in order to keep them in sound structural and maximum operating condition.

But the truth of the matter is, this organizational masterpiece will probably incur it's first few misplaced items early tomorrow morning. I will just have to practice mustering up my best, "this doesn't bother me" face and smile as I walk away with a twitch in my head. Really...this was all about the kids - THEY wanted it organized, right?

The Fly Hunter

We have been plagued with flies this summer. It was probably due to the endless rains we've had all spring. Whenever we open the door to the house, we have to almost sneak in so that no flies feel invited. But inevitably, 2 or 3 manage to make themselves at home each time the door is slightly cracked.

Bennett keeps asking me, "Mom, why did God make flies? What is their purpose?" Good questions. I have no clue! Chuck seems to think that their only purpose is as food for other creatures. I guess that answer is better than, "just to annoy us and remind us that life isn't all about us."

Anyways, we seem to be constantly shooing away flys, at the dinner table, sitting on the couch reading, laying in bed, while brushing our teeth. They are very non-discriminating. They don't care who they bother, as long as they bother someone. My favorite is the "fly by". This is a different breed of fly altogether. They are brazen, shameless, purposefully trying to irritate the human inhabitants of the house. They get their little wings humming as fast as possible and then calculate how close they can get to your ears, eyes and nose before being swatted. I think they do this as 'dares' from other flies.

So, the other night I'm getting ready for bed and brushing my teeth. There are no less than 3 flies as my companions with me in the bathroom. My irritability factor is rising exponentially. I ask Chuck if he could "PLEASE DO SOMETHING!" His solution? He grabs the closest hand towel and starts attempting to pop them. He's whipping everything in sight. He pops the mirror and anything in the path of the towel becomes a casualty. But it's worth it for the small piece of mind that comes with knowing that there will be no more 'fly by's'.

In order to getting out of the 'whipping zone' I perch myself upon the bed where I have a perfect view of Chuck in action. There is my protector, armed with a towel, speedy eyes, an acute sense of hearing and those strong muscular arms ready to whip any flying, annoying, creature who dares enter the solitude of our bathroom. Talk about being territorial.

How can one describe the sense of pride that wells up in your chest your husband yells, "YES! I got him - he's dead, or at least injured - now I just need to find him." Ah, all my fears seem to fade away. Love bubbles up in my heart as I watch him spin around the bathroom like a madman whipping at apparently nothing, but knowing he's doing it for me. He doesn't care about looking foolish - he's in 'hunter mode'. He will not rest until every last fly is accounted for and his dear beloved (that's me) can sleep peacefully. At one point, he even trapped one of the trespassers in the water closet (the polite name for the toilet area). He shut the door and all I heard was the flailing about of arms, the towel repeatedly hitting the walls and sounds of the hunt such as, "AHA - now I've gottcha ". It only took 15 minutes of bravery and a keen sense of knowing the every movement of his enemy before we could go to bed knowing that there were no unwanted guests in the house.

Then Chuck came up with a brilliant idea. This might just be a new family business for us. We could advertise ourselves as the "Fly Hunters" and accompany people at their family reunions, church picnics, company bar-b-q's, you know - any large celebration that involves alot of people and a cookout. That invariably draws the flies. Then there we would be - wildly thrashing about, wielding hand towels to pop the flies with. We may look like fools, the people may accidently get hit once in a while. But what a peace of mind we would bring to your party. You would know that as long as we're there, you need not worry about the flies. Kind of reminds me of "Ghostbusters", huh?! Think about it - I think there's definitely a market for it!

Twice the Work

I have memory issues. There, I feel better now that that's out in the open. I have THE WORST short term memory and this post is here to prove it. Either that, or I just love to do things over and over again since I can't remember doing them the first time around.

Yesterday was laundry day. I have my little routine where I bring a load into the laundry room in a basket, transfer clothes from washer to dryer then put clothes from basket into washer. Easy. Doesn't require much thought, preparation or genius. I just follow the same order time after time.

Who knew I could mess up something so easy? The day had been rather busy and I was in and out of the house most of the day. I prefer to stay home on laundry day...you know, keep up with the rhythm. And yes, there is a rhythm to doing laundry - at least if you want to have all the clothes folded and put away by the end of the day and not all in one big pile on my bed. So, now you can see that my rhythm was messed up and evidently when that gets messed up, my memory is not far behind.

Another thing I like to do is multi-task. You would think this might be hard for someone with my mental condition...on the contrary, I seem to thrive. My mental lists are rather astounding. I don't even have time to transfer everything from my head onto paper - it would take way too long. I tend to scurry around the house in 5 different directions, on some sort of mission. Often times, the mission is accomplished. But then there are those times when data control gets locked up and I walk into a room and just stare because, for the life of me, I can't remember why I even came in there. Thus sets the stage for my laundry mishap...

Taking the clean clothes out of the dryer was only one of the things my mind was thinking about. I was also getting dinner ready, talking to the kids, feeding the dog, yada, yada, yada. So, clothes are now safely deposited into the basket. Default mode kicks in and I transfer wet clothes from washer into dryer since that is what I always do. Then without thinking, I put more soap and water into the washer and transfer clothes from basket into washer and walk out of the laundry room.

Then about 10 minutes later it hits me...What did I just do??? Don't tell me I just put the clothes I just cleaned back into the washing machine!!! Arghhh!!!! I still have 3 more loads of laundry and its already 6pm. Why was I on auto pilot? Why didn't I think? Why did I just create double the work for myself? Where is the turn off switch for my brain? Actually, I would prefer to CTL/ALT/DELETE and reboot myself. How many other times have I done this and not even realized it?

But I would like to say that we have VERY CLEAN clothes this week! There is always something positive in every situation - sometimes you just have to look very hard for it.

Utah or New York?

I was just privy to some pretty important life planning on the part of Bennett and Chloe today. As we were driving all around town, those two decided now was the time to decide on a plan of action for their future. They decided that they do, in-fact, love one another. And the ultimate end to loving one another is marriage, right?!

So, Bennett asks me, "Mom, what's that rule about marrying someone in your family?"

"Uh", I stutter...where is he going with this..."Um, why do you ask, honey?"

"Cuz I want to marry Chloe." Awww, how sweet. I decide to let them in on a loop-hole in the law.

"Well, you might not be able to marry Chloe, but there's nothing wrong with a brother and sister sharing the same house."

Now that he feels he has the green light, they commence the planning phase of their future little lives. They were so giddy. I sat there and soaked it all up, listening as their two little pip-squeak voices volleyed back and forth with ideas.

Then, in all seriousness, being that he's the male, and in charge of things and wanting to protect his sister, he decides to get expert advice from me, the one who seemingly knows all things (at least to a 5 and 3 year old). "Mom," he asks "is there the ocean in Utah?" Thankfully, I know that one, "No honey, but there is a desert, mountains and a very big lake." That answer suffices and they animatedly continue their discussion. I wasn't able to catch it all, but this was enough:

Bennett: "Chloe, keep this in your mind forever...mountain lions like to pounce."

Chloe: "Will they eat us?"

Bennett: "Probly...but maybe if we have the chance we can run back home and get some sticks and a fire and then go back and throw it at him."

I'm assuming that this conversation came on the heals of possibly moving to the mountain in Utah...just one of their many options. Neither of them were very excited about this possibility, Bennett, not being a big fan of risk taking and Chloe, not liking to get eaten by large animals. So Bennett asks, "Mom, what other States are there besides America, Utah or Hawaii?"

Thankfully, I'm full of answers today and was able to spout off a good 5 or 6 more State options for them. By the end of our drive I heard them putting the final seal of approval on their latest plan:

Bennett: "Okay...we'll both have a convertible car, live together in the same huge house and live in New York."

Chloe: "An I will be a lellow pincess."

Bennett: "Ya."

As I open the van door to get the kids out, I notice them sitting in the back seat hand in hand. This is a first. I told Bennett, "Honey, you're being so loving today." He shrugs nonchalantly and replies, "Well, I am going to marry Chloe, so I better start showing her love."

How I'm going to miss these days the older they get.

I Don't Understand

In the wee hours on the morning, Gavin descends upon my side of the bed proclaiming that he has had a bad dream. I'm never really sure what to do in these instances. They normally just stand there after they make their statement....like I have magic powers and can undo the 'bad dream'.

I'm not so quick on my toes at 2:05 in the morning. Somehow, sleeping with Mommy in the middle of the night enables one to go back to sleep with ease and nips the 'bad dream monster' in the bud. That's how Gavin ended up sleeping with us last night.

Not even 5 minutes later, another little person enters stage left (meaning my side of the bed). I never really made it out of REM sleep while listening to Gavin, I kinda just faked it....mumbled something that sounded semi coherent and calming at the same time. I really should set up a video camera in my room in the middle of the night so I could better relate these 'non-conversations' I inevitably carry on. But anyways....all of the sudden I hear Chloe's little voice and am instantly confused. I thought it was Gavin I was just talking to...or maybe I was dreaming it was him and it was really Chloe. What was going on here...

I asked Chloe, "What are you doing? Why are you here?" I know that doesn't sound like the most loving thing a parent can say to a child in the middle of the night. The odds of both of my children having a nightmare at the exact same time on the exact same night are just too great - something else was up. I just didn't know what.

Chloe responds, "Gavin tripped over me." HUH??? I don't understand. Your room is on the opposite side of the house from Gavin's room, plus you sleep on a bed. I reasoned with myself that I didn't need to understand and just pulled her up on the bed to join the ever expanding party on my bed.

Come this morning, I asked Gavin, "What was that that Chloe said about you tripping over her last night? Did you?" He responds, "Ya, I did. She was laying at the top of the stairs when I came down to your room at 2:05am." Hmmm....clear as mud. What in the world is my daughter doing laying at the top of the stairs in the middle of the night? This could be a dangerous habit.

The investigation continues as I ask Chloe, "Why were you sleeping on the floor at the top of the stairs?"

"Cuz I wanted to see liz-uh-buh (the dog)." Made perfect sense to her. At her vantage point at the top of the stairs, she was a safe distance away, yet could still see her - but in the middle of the night??? I don't understand....

Fuper Dirl

I only have one question....how does a sweet, little, dancey, princess girl suddenly morf into this:


"Fuper Dirl" aka "Fuper Fighder Dirl" aka "Fuper Mommy". Whatever happened to "Fuper Pincess"? The days of "Bay-el" are long gone. The brainwashing phase of the boys' superhero mentality is finally complete. She now realizes it's not good enough to be a super princess only adding a cape to a princess costume. No...to really achieve superhero status, you must clad yourself in underwear, cape, tinker toy sword and batman mask. Chloe adds a bit of a fashion statement to her super persona with the fuzzy pink cape. I don't know that this would technically qualify as 'tom boy'. No, she is far from that. Is there really a definition for what we have going on here? Oh ya, one more thing the boys have taught her - how to have a 'mean face'. All superheroes must appear 'mean' at some point, you know, in order to let the bad guys know they mean business. The bad guys don't stand a chance with Chloe's face:

Chaucer, The Teacher

Chuck and I were reminiscing a couple of weeks ago about a poem we had to learn as seniors in high school. Although it had been more than16 years since those words were originally memorized and recited, they flowed out of my mouth with the same rhythm and trepidation from all those years ago. The poem is the first few lines of the Prologue from "The Canterbury Tales", taken from the old English: Whan that Aprille, with hise shoures soote,The droghte of March hath perced to the roote. You've just gotta love how it flows and sounds. Anyways...I didn't have the appreciation for it back then, but now, I can't consume it fast enough.

So, I decided to go check it out at the library - the modern English version, of course! As much as I love the Old English, my brain is too dense to read an entire book written in that format. That has been my casual reading book of choice lately. It's been lying around on coffee tables, the kitchen table, the counter-top, pretty much wherever I lay it down after having a few sacred seconds of alone time. Unbeknownst to me, Gavin has been picking it up after I have laid it down. Herein lies the moral of this story: most learning happens when you aren't planning for or expecting it.

I told the kids that Mommy needed a little private time to read and headed out back to sit at the patio table. Less than 3 minutes later, Gavin was sitting next to me. Obviously, I haven't done an adequate enough job of teaching the definition of the phrase 'private time'. However, when one of my children wants to spend time talking with me, I just can't refuse and listened to what important thoughts were on his mind. Turns out, it was Chaucer.

He tells me, "Mom, I've been reading a bit of that book that you're reading and I really like it. It's pretty amazing how he rhymes every two lines. I read the part about a Duke." Hmmm, oh really. Thus began an hour of awesome conversation that was neither planned nor prepared. We dove into the history of the time of Chaucer's life (1340's), England and the customs of their day, knights, religion (explaining the pilgrimage), language arts (we tried to describe people we knew by only describing their character), poetry (appreciating the difficulty and scope of Chaucer's work as well as differing styles), the sciences (many of which Chaucer studied and was extremely proficient in), languages (what Old English is and other languages Chaucer spoke)...all because he wanted to talk to me about "The Canterbury Tales". Had I insisted on my own time, I'm sure we would have eventually covered the myriad of subjects we just navigated our way through. But it wouldn't have been as dear to me as him initiating a 'grown up' conversation with me. I LOVE these teachable moments. They're all around. How many other's have I missed, I wonder?

Stuck in Bed

Bennett sleeps on the top bunk. He had already gotten into bed last night but realized he forgot something. Now first, I need to explain that he is 'too cool' to get to and from the top bunk just using the ladder provided. Spiderman wouldn't take such an easy route...and neither does Bennett. He prefers to shimmy his way up and down the headboard side. This involves showing off his climbing prowess, his muscles and it's just plain cool to do. Who needs ladders?

Now you'll understand how Bennett's leg got stuck in between the slats on the top as he was trying to exit. His footing slipped on a pillow and his leg went sliding right through two slats - up past his knee. Now, the distance between the slats is maybe 4 or 5 inches. Thankfully this happened while he was still on the bed side of the headboard, not while he was precariously dangling over the edge.

All of this is happening unbeknownst to me, however. I'm having a wonderfully relaxing time in my bath as Chuck was tucking the kids into bed. Come to find out later, he told me that he had a 'little problem' upstairs he was fixing. A problem? What happened? Did the dog pee upstairs?

"Oh no, don't worry, the dog wasn't upstairs...it was Bennett" Chuck replied. Oh boy, what could have happened? Is he okay? "Oh yes...don't worry...I've just spent the past ten minutes slathering lotion on his leg." Should I ask why ? Did he have a bug bite? "No. He had his leg stuck in between the slats. I finally got it out" he finally replies. Oh, don't worry, huh?! My baby has just been sitting there the whole time I'm in my bath, stuck on the top bunk screaming for Daddy to call 911 and I don't need to worry?!

I ran upstairs to see how he was doing post trauma. Of course, the boys were laughing about it now. I told them of how glad I was that Daddy was home because I have no clue how I would have handled the situation. I told them I probably would have gotten a screw driver and started taking the bed apart. Then they both reminded me that if I did that, the bed would fall apart with Bennett's leg still stuck. I obviously am not a quick thinker under pressure. Bennett told me that he kept telling Daddy to call 911. I'm glad we went to the Fire Station and had that Emergency Training Course in which they let children know what constitutes an emergency and what does not. I'm proud of my boy - he was listening well.

Our Newest Addition

We went to an organic farm for an awesome day of learning, picnicing and fresh-out-of-doors fun and....an organic puppy?!? Can someone please tell me how this happened? We surely didn't wake up this morning thinking, "Hmmm, if there are free puppies for the taking at the farm today, I think we'll just make a spur of the moment decision that will eventually change the course of our lives forever and just bring it home. Let's give no thought to the myriad of vet bills, shots, supplies and time this will eventually cost us. No, I think acting on impulse and pure emotion is a skill we need to teach our children. We haven't done enough of that." That's just not how my brain thinks. Yet...that is exactly what happened. It was love at first sight. We're suckers, alright!

Here are some of the events I witnessed first hand within the first 24 hours of bringing her home:

1. First, Gavin ate some dog food to see if his new puppy would like it.
2. Then Bennett followed suit and actually liked it.
3. I found Gavin brushing her with my hairbrush.
4. Gavin has already drawn 4 pictures of the new love of his life.
5. Bennett is going around "shushing" all of us because "the puppy is sleeping."
6. Chloe (who is still petrified of dogs) screams at the mere sight of the puppy.
7. Found the boys inside the kennel.
8. Found Gavin intently reading his newest book, "The Chosen Puppy"
9. Found Gavin sleeping in his sleeping bag on the floor next to the kennel, with his face right next to the puppy's so she wouldn't be scared at night.

We held a huge family forum on the drive back from the farm with the newest member of our family. The topic of discussion, "What shall we name the dog?" The three kids instantly said, "Sunshine". Who are we to veto their imaginations? But...that name just didn't strike Chuck or I as something that would stick. We'd had dogs prior to children and had always named them British names, such as: Heathrow, Emma and Libby. We kinda wanted to follow in our previous footsteps. So we started throwing names out of the hat. Man, is it hard to come up with names! Finally, by the grace of God, we all agreed upon Beth. Gavin and Bennett really wanted to call her Elizabeth. So...Elizabeth it is, but you may call her Beth for short - Gavin and Bennett said so.

Okay, now about the breed. Come to find out, we were just handed a 'free' dog that will grow up to become a small giant (oxymoron - as is the word free). Elizabeth just happens to be a Great Pyrenees mix. Upon immediately entering our house and making a mad dash for the computer so that we could Google 'Great Pyrenees', we learn that our adorable little puppy will grow to the healthy size of 80-100 pounds. Ahhh, lovely! But we also learned that you couldn't ask for a more gentle, kind, obedient dog who is also excellent with children. That's a plus because we do have children.

Ah yes, and then there's Chloe and her innate fear of dogs. She has always been scared of dogs. I, too, used to be scared of dogs as a child until we got our own and raised her from a puppy. We thought this would be a wonderful way to slowly show Chloe all the virtues of dog ownership and the multiple benefits that ensue. But she's not buying it. I think she thinks she's fixin to be eaten alive by a 3 pound carnivore. That's the only explanation I can think of for her shrill screams, hiding and river of tears that happen whenever she sees Elizabeth from 25 feet away. Maybe this wasn't such a smart decision afterall...I guess only time will tell.

But on a positive note...our new prodigy has already potty-trained herself, letting us know she needs to go outside. She also doesn't make a mess in her crate - unlike previous pets we've had. This is a strong plus in her favor. Another key point...she doesn't howl all night. At least she didn't last night. I sure hope I won't have to amend that last statement after tonight.

So, I'm sure there will soon be multiple entries with references to Elizabeth in the near future. I'm not sure what's going to happen, but I know something will happen and when it does, I will write about it and it will go down in history as just another one of our crazy, fun-filled, any-thing-can-and-will-happen days!

Interest Driven Learning

This is my passion. I believe children learn the most when they are ready and when they learn what they are the most interested in. As of late, my boys' interest has been in Native Americans. We have been reading an awesome book together called, "Chief Black Hawk". We have learned more about the Native American culture through this awesome story. The boys sit riveted wanting me to read "Just one more chapter, PLEASE!". This interest has prompted them to buy, with their own money, a bow and arrow set (from the dollar store).

While I was at my favorite store last night (Half Price Books), I came upon a clearance book titled, "The Encyclopedia on the Ancient Americas". This is one of the most extensive books I've found about the entire culture. But the coolest thing about the book was that on most pages, it actually teaches you how to make "Indian Items".

For instance, we just finished reading in "Chief Black Hawk" that only the war chief gets to carry the medicine bag and he carries it only into battle. It is the symbol of their nation, much like a flag would be. We then found in our new encyclopedia how to make one! Could life get any better? The boys begged me to make one with them.

So, we have just spent the better part of the afternoon, making our very own medicine bag. The things the boys have learned through this hands on experience have been innumerable. They are now out back mastering the art of shooting an arrow, climbing trees without making a noise, walking stealthily like an Indian brave and guarding their medicine bag with their life. Who wouldn't enjoy school if this is what is was like?

This interest may last a week, a month, or 3 days. But I can guarantee you they will never forget all that we learned because it was what they WANTED to learn. Here are just a few bits of knowledge they have gathered on their own:

1. Gavin started doing research in this new encyclopedia like there was no tomorrow. He couldn't drink in the information fast enough and started sharing things with me that he thought were cool, like: The Ancient Incas performed brain surgery and thought that by cutting a hole in the skull it would heal the patient and let out evil spirits.
2. They learned the value of money by having to pay for their bows and arrows from their piggy banks and what $1.50 looked like. They will now treat this 'toy' better because they know the 'cost' behind giving up their own money for it.
3. They learned perseverance while spending the past 3 hours making something that looked easy from a picture, but took a lot longer. They both said that "This is harder than it looks" and began discussing how much harder it must have been for the Indians to do. This led to a discussion about time and us wondering if Indians were ever in a hurry like we are in our society today. They learned the pride that comes in accomplishing something on your own (in our case as a team). That's another thing - teamwork. We all had an integral part to perform so that it would get done, which led to much verbal affirmation and encouraging of one another.
4. Gavin found out what types of herbs and plants they used to carry in the medicine bag. Cocoa, he said, was used as a pain reliever.
5. We had to use a ruler to take several measurements - lots of key math elements had to be implemented. However, my boys got to see the real life use of math, not just on paper.
6. Lots of fine motor skills were needed for the painting of the intricate designs and braiding the strap and making the tassels.
7. Gavin also asked if we could go to Oklahoma and go to a real Indian Museum. Bennett asked," Where are all the Indians, did the white man kill them all? I want an Indian friend. They're cool!" This led to an awesome History discussion on the Trail of Tears. My boys know the dates that Black Hawk and Tecumseh lived, when the Louisiana Purchase was and who fought in the War of 1812 now because of this little conversation.
8. Now, the best part, their imaginations have become alive in the back yard as they role play all that they are learning and put themselves in those scenarios we've read about.

Each day is a joy and a treasure as we learn together and grow together! And the best part is, now I can add, "Medicine Bag Maker" to my Mommy resume.

Mommy Learns Something New

Today I thought I would be nice and help Chuck out by mowing and weed-eating/edging for him. I'm a pretty good mower, if I do say so myself. I've always enjoyed it, even when my allergies had me sneezing the entire time. Call me weird, but I just think mowing is fun (especially a tractor mower - now, that's a good time!). But in all my years, believe it or not, I've never touched a weed-eater.

Actually, I take that back...yes, I touched one, once. Again, I was trying to be helpful while Chuck was at work and I thought I'd do a complete job so he wouldn't have to weed-eat when he got home. I had zero clue how to work the thing. So, I found the instruction manual and sat down in the garage and read the entire thing. Then I attempted to follow the instructions and was left feeling like a complete idiot for not understanding how to actually make the thing turn on. You would think I just read the Chinese version. I love to learn new things...but this 'new thing' just did not compute. That part of my brain that was supposed to understand technical instructions just said, "Duh!"

So, today was Attempt Number 2 at learning how to weed-eat. I got the big, long, heavy, stick like object out of the garage. Chuck's is a gas powered one, not the kind you plug in and turn on - that would make my life much easier. But apparently it's not manly to plug in your weed-eater. Once again, I try to make sense of the instructions, and once again, I fail. I come inside and ask Chuck (who is at home working), "Could I bother you for a moment to come outside and teach me how to turn on that stupid weed-eater thingy you have."

I get a crash course on "How to Turn on Your Weed-eater for Morons". I decide its easier just to let Chuck start it and never let it turn off. Now that I know what a "throttle" is, I let it rip and get a tiny glimpse of the power surge men get when they rev a motor loudly. I did feel pretty cool making such a loud noise at 9 o'clock in the morning. Now all I had to do, was figure out how which side of the thing to stand on and then, how to make it make that neat little edge line between the sidewalk and the grass. That is SOOO much harder than it looks - let me tell you!

I now have a new appreciation for those in the landscaping industry that must walk with this heavy, stick-like object glued to their hands for 8 hours a day. It's hard. And did you know that when it actually cuts the grass, the grass comes right back and hits your legs and it STINGS! Also, did you know that it's very hard to hold a weed-eater, keep it running (finger on the throttle) and itch your nose at the same time? It involved me finding some very interesting positions in which to try to balance.

I ended up butchering my way through 3 sections of sidewalk before I threw in the towel. Yes, I gave up. I didn't want to embarrass Chuck that bad. Everyone will think he did it. I did walk away from this experience with several key points, however:

1. don't wear shorts or your legs will hurt and it won't look like you shaved them the night before
2. if you're going to balance a weed-eater on your leg, make sure it's your strongest leg or both of you will fall
3. don't go back and try to 'fix' the mess you made or you will only make a bigger mess
4. leave the weed-eating up to the boys

Here is a picture of my handiwork:

Massanutten

That would be the name of the mountain we lived on while we lived in Virginia. I guess I've been getting all sentimental and mushy thinking about it lately, since tomorrow is our 1 year anniversary of moving there (and also our 6 month anniversary of moving back). Life certainly took many crazy, unexpected, windy turns this past year - none of it we could have anticipated, but all of it changing each of us in immeasurable ways. All that to say... I've been aimlessly staring off into space these past few days with a silly little grin on my face thinking of events or situations that we experienced during (what we affectionately refer to as) our 6 month vacation. I had forgotten about this one incident and thought it would be fun to remember together...so, here it is:

It was a rainy, cold, gray Friday. It was mid-afternoon sometime in October, I think. I had already been cold for a good 2 months. I was wearing my newly acquired down filled jacket and gloves, I remember - it must have been at least in the 40's. We were on our way back from co-op which was a 45 minute drive through the country from 'our mountain'. It was nearing 1 o'clock, I recall because my stomach was growling loudly and so were the children, their stomachs, I mean. I couldn't wait to run inside and get a cup of hot chocolate, make lunches at lightning speed and get all cozy for the rest of the afternoon.

Then reality set in. There is only one way up and off the mountain. A very windy, curvy, tree lined road with the occasional deer. Everybody who lived in our community had to go through the main gate entrance. There was also an emergency exit off the mountain for things such as ice storms, but that road was roped off. The emergency road actually was pretty close to our house, maybe 1/2 a mile away only. It took us a good 7 to 10 minutes to wind our way up the mountain before we wound our way back down to where our house was situated. This probably doesn't even make sense. You see, you had to go all the way up to the gate, then wind your way through different subdivisions that went either further up or down the mountain. Ours was further down the mountain. Therefore, you go up to go down. Clear as mud, right?! Well, once you're able to secure this crazy picture in your head, you'll have a better visual for the story that's about to unfold.

So here we are, my hungry crew and I travailing up the mountain when we suddenly come to a quick stop only half way up the mountain. This is odd, I think to myself. There are no stop lights on this stretch of road. Well, we sit there for a good 10 minutes just waiting. We all know how much I love to wait. A plan is formulating in my brain - which surprises me because I thought I was too hungry to think. I'm used to eating lunch around 11:30am and it is now nearing 1pm. Major food frustration was about to set in. If I don't know when and what and where and how my next meal is coming...it's not a good thing. Add to that my parental responsibility of also feeding the three little people who follow me everywhere and think I can make food come out of a hat just because they say the magic words, "I'm hungry!". I guess I've inadvertently given them the wrong impression since food has magically popped out of my purse on several occasions - but that was my own personal stash in case of food emergencies...but I digress. Oh ya, and then there's the little thing of naps that need to taken. The nap schedule is already pretty much shot at this point.

The need for warmth, food and hot chocolate are fueling me on. I get an adrenaline rush and make a quick decision. I ever so gently attempt to turn the car around (on a one lane road) without perilously getting stuck in the 4 foot ditches on either side. Once that feat of driving prowess is achieved, I drive the van down the mountain a bit until I find a little 'pull off spot' shall we say. It is actually just a part of the side of the road that isn't a ditch. I suddenly shift into lieutenant Sargent of the troops and order all in the van to proceed outside with caution. We go into football huddle formation as I explain the task set before us. There is no other option - it must be done. We must all be brave and walk the near mile, in the rain and cold to get to our house which contains the food. I will have to come back for the car. Let's move 'em out!

I feel more like a momma duck with her ducklings waddling behind her. Our speed is slow, it is raining, did I mention cold? and it seems a lot longer than a mile. We reach the 'emergency exit' road that leads into our development. This is good. We decide to start running. Now I'm worried that some of the other stranded motorists are thinking I'm trying to steal children and run away with them. I try to look nonchalant. But how nonchalant can one look when you're running with a big, green bulky coat, a fur hood on, a two year old in your arms and two school aged children - not in school. I felt as if there was a spot light on me. My imagination can run pretty wild sometimes.

We stop several times to catch our collective breaths. The house is in view. It has only taken us 20 minutes, I think. We can do this! We walk up the steps, in the house and all stand in the 2 x 3 space called our entry 'area' and attempt to all take off our wet shoes and jackets. The challenge seems insurmountable. I gulp down a glass of water and race through instructions for Gavin. You see, I still had to go back for the abandoned car. I didn't want to get a ticket for parking on the side of a mountain. I know that might sound absurd, but I've gotten called down by the police before for jay walking, so I'm all about following the letter of the law when it comes to driving safety.

I instruct Gavin to make each of them peanut butter sandwiches. To read Chloe a book and put her down for her nap. I HAD to go back for the car and there was no telling how long I was going to have to wait in that line to make it up the mountain. He was in charge - in a nice, kind, brotherly way, of course. And under NO CIRCUMSTANCES was he to open the door for anybody. I NEVER leave my kids alone and here I was running back to the main road for my car, in the rain (and still hungry) because I was afraid of a ticket. Now I'm afraid someone (a cop) will come to the door and see that my homeschooled children are left home alone. I was wrought with worry. What's a mom to do?

I lock the door and sprint all the way back to the car. Amazing how much faster you can run without carrying a two year old. I made it back in 5 minutes. And what do you know...they had opened the emergency road and everyone was driving thru it. It would only take me 2 minutes to get back home. The boys were super surprised that Mommy made it back so soon. Surprisingly, the day went on as normal. I guess they think things like this happen all the time to people.

Ahhh...the memories. I can almost guarantee that will never happen here in Texas since there are no mountains. I'm sure another crazy adventure will find us though!