Husky Hair Everywhere

     School has been in session for a few weeks now, and, so far so good! Thank goodness!


     George's teacher, who also is a friend of mine, apparently mentioned "Sculpture Park" during school recently. We haven't been in a few years, but, George insisted, as, his teacher made it sound like the best thing ever. So, Saturday morning, while Bearded Man was at work, and Joe was at a weekend Scout Campout, we went. Mostly because George was up before dawn, waking me up to ask to go. As soon as possible. He even woke the girls up, so they could hurry and get ready to go.
     Turbo the husky was excited, too! He apparently thought, that, since I obviously wasn't going to work, I clearly had nothing better to do, so, we should go for a walk. All day. Let's go now.
     Turbo has become sort of an issue lately. If he is kenneled for any length of time, he howls and screams bloody murder. The neighbors do not appreciate it. He had matured to the level of letting him stay out of his crate while we aren't home for short periods of time. This has apparently recently changed, however, because he has taken to getting into things, and destroying whatever object aggravates  him at the time. Which, to date, has included several of my fall decorations, a Barbie, all the TV remotes, and the kitchen garbage.
     Looking at the excited dog, as he danced around while I put my sneakers on - a sure sign that I am going to walk him, as, I was not wearing scrubs - Kaila looked at me and begged. "We should bring Turbo, Mom! We can walk him there!"


     "But. My van."


     "But. He wants to go!"


     "My. Van."


     "Please?"


     "My van?"


     "He is just going to destroy stuff again. And he really really wants to go!"


After debate, against my better judgment, I allowed it.


     We need to quick talk about the van. Which has been renamed "Phillipe" as in, the horse in Beauty and the Beast, because, we have had more crazy adventures and off roading in that van, than we ever did in my SUV. I mutter on a regular basis the line from the movie: "Where have you taken us, Phillipe?!"


     Anyhow. Phillipe is kept in pristine condition. There is a very strict "carry in carry out" law for my vehicle. It has a black cloth interior (The leather interior with heated seats was turned down, because, if you recall, I was NOT buying a Mini van.), and is vacuumed and Armor All'd several times monthly. My van is babied and better cared for than any vehicle I have ever owned. I drive it to a garage down the street from work regularly, for all  maintenance. Also, Bearded Man rarely drives it without me getting aggravated about HOW he is driving it. I don't know what the obsession of perfection is about this van, but, it's a thing.
     Fast forward to the husky and his pending arrival to the van, and, I could barely watch as the kids dragged him in. For those of you who don't know much about huskies - They shed. They shed approximately 14 large dogs worth of hair every single day. There is husky hair in every single place possible in my house, and some that really aren't possible, but gets achieved anyhow. Including the refrigerator. If the house is not daily swept, it looks like it hasn't been swept in 2 years. And, now my gray and white husky was getting coaxed into the black interior of my vehicle completely against both his will and mine. But, he eventually got in, and we left.
     It took about 2 minutes to realize that, a very large dog, who is not thrilled about riding in what has suddenly become a very small vehicle, will do everything in his power to alert the passengers of this. So, he began to pace. And to jump on every single seat. And rub against everything. Before we knew it, there was husky hair flying all over the van, made worse by the windows that were slightly open. Husky hair covered my entire dashboard. It covered the touch screen radio consol. It covered the black seats, and, the black carpet now looked white. It flew up noses and mouths, and got into eyes, covered everyone's clothes, and flew about like a snow storm. It was traumatic.


     "Mom. I am SO. SORRY. I promise, I will help clean it up." promised Kaila. Frequently. Every two minutes, as we struggled to keep the dog away from my lap, and the hair out of my line of vision. "It's. Fine." I responded through gritted teeth.


     Eventually we arrived at the Sculpture Park. George could hardly contain himself. "There are potties here! Does anyone need to go potty before we start?" asked my responsible six year old. Both girls shook their heads and denied need of the facilities, so, George went, "Just to be sure."
     In no time, we were hiking the trails of the Sculpture Park. I always forget, though, just how many very very large and very very naked statues of women there are at the Sculpture Park. But, there are. And they are in every position conceivable.
     "Wow, Mom. Whoever made these statues really likes naked women, doesn't he?" mused George


      "George, please stop patting it's butt!" was my response.  


     Actually though, George was great for the entire hike. He stopped frequently to build his own sculptures out of stones, and was thrilled with the entire park.
     My girls; not so much. Approximately 1/3 of the way in, after hiking up hill, they announced they needed to use the bathroom, and were mostly miserable for the rest of the hike. Ah well. Win some, lose some.


     The trip home with the husky was actually worse. By the time we arrived home, my entire van was completely covered in husky hair. It took more that an hour of vacuuming to get what I could out of it. Husky hair is magical, though. Because I found that it had interwoven itself into the floor mats, and was now part of the mats, and completely impossible to remove. Kaila, by the way, conveniently slept through the entire overhaul of poor Phillipe.


     The next morning, it should be noted that it was cold enough that the furnace turned itself on. I stood in resignation, as I watched husky hair blow out of every single floor heat vent that we have. Great tufts of hair, blowing through the air, like a blizzard inside the  house. Dancing and blowing and then taking off to float happily around like Disney Fairies. It Covered every surface and possible nook and cranny.
     I could brush that dog all day, and he would still shed like crazy. It's a good thing I love the little beast.


     Joe has announced that he likes solitude. (Which I can totally appreciate...) So, I have allowed him to lock himself and whatever book he is currently reading, in my bedroom when he needs a break from siblings and the constant stream of kids that are in and out of my house. He was so thrilled with this mini vacation, that he immediately named it his "Solitary Confinement." He could barely wait to go to school and tell everyone about his Solitary Confinement, locked in his parent's bedroom. Thank goodness I caught that ahead of time, and he was persuaded to name it something else.


     Sunday School has also started again. This year, I have an entirely new class, as, my last classes have moved up. (I normally have kids for 7th and 8th grades. This year, they moved them all up, to make a larger Confirmation class in a few years.) I have four kids in my class now, with Lexi being one of them.
     This weekend, we talked about "consequences" as part of the lesson. Somehow, the subject of being part of "the bad group" of kids came up. I don't even remember what round about way we reached it. But, we talked about it. One kid looked completely disgusted. "I AM part of the bad group of kids." he snorted.


     "Yeah. You look really thuggish" I tossed back, continuing on. A few minutes later, he interrupts the conversation with "Ha! 'Good kids'! We had one of those in our group. We kicked him out though, because he was always telling on us when we did bad stuff at school."


     "Wait. WHAT? You mean, you really ARE part of a group of bad kids???!!!! Have you learned NOTHING at Sunday School?"


     "I told you I was. Besides. The good kid got a girl friend. We don't allow those in our group."


     "He Man Woman Haters, are you?"


     "Huh?"


     "Never mind."


Anyhow. It looks as if I have found the next kid guaranteed to send me strait to hell. Twenty more classes to go! Well. Nineteen. I get to get out of one of the October classes, because I am signed up to hike 9 miles of forest with my sister in law. Bearded Man can deal with the class thug. Which will mean he will need to forgo his weekly Sunday School nap...




     Till next time!
    


    

I am calm! You Hear Me? Calm!

     Yesterday began the third year of teaching Sunday School.


     A new wrench has been thrown into the works, because, Kaila has graduated from Sunday School, and now we have no idea what to do with her. Also, Bearded Man dozed through most of it, while hotly denying he had been asleep every time we woke him  up again.


     It promises to be a long year. On the "up" side, the student that has argued every single thing I ever uttered for the last two years, and who has now moved up, came into my classroom and said "I miss this class so much!!!!" mournfully. So, I suppose we must have done some good along the way.




    One of the other Sunday School teachers and her sons sat in front of us during church yesterday. One of her sons had a notebook and a pen, and spent the entire mass drawing devils and monsters, and my personal favorite, some poor clueless man in a boat, unaware that an enormous sea monster with gaping jaws was just about to come up out of the water and eat him. Anyhow, his mother finally realized what her child was drawing and told him it wasn't nice to draw devils in church. So, the young man compensated by writing "Jesus is the Savior. Follow Him, not me." above his last devil drawing. My kids giggled through the entire mass as they watched him, and, I was relieved to find that I am not the only mother who's children do crazy things in church.
      Because, while idly watching the illustrator in front of me, wrestling with George, and listening to a sermon about forgiveness, I happened to notice that Joe, my little alter boy, was on the alter making faces.
     "Jasin! Do you see what Joe is doing?"


     "What. Is. He. Doing?" Jasin whispered back, now that he noticed what was going on. I watched in fascination as Joe made faces that looked like he was twitching, because they were so fast. It dawned on me that I could hear Lexi snickering at the other end of the pew. Leaning forward, Lexi confessed that she was making faces at Joe, so Joe was making faces back at her from the alter.


     Anyhow. It's only just begun.


     Also this weekend, I took the children grocery shopping with me. I have this mental thing I have always done, where, I decide on my budget, and then keep a mental running tally in my head through the entire store. I am usually within ten dollars of the total, and, I get a weird satisfaction, keeping my totals below budget every week.
     Kaila was out babysitting, so, the other three children along, we went grocery shopping. I doubled my grocery bill, and, watched in amazement as things I had no idea were even in the cart suddenly appeared on the checkout conveyer belt. Joe, my normally quiet child began to speak to the cashier:


     "Do you see all the ingredients for tacos? I love tacos. I am the most Mexican person I know. I am very Mexican."


     "ummmmmm....." said the cashier.


     "I even look  Mexican. I have dark skin and I can speak some Spanish, and I am very Mexican." My tanned from the sun Joseph, continued.


     "I don't even know what to say." said the cashier, looking at me oddly.


     "The child is NOT Mexican. There isn't an ounce of Mexican in him." I announced. "Joe, You are not Mexican, for heaven's sake."


     "Yes. I am. I love Mexican food, and, I am pretty sure I am Mexican."


     "JOE! Seriously. You are. not. Mexican!" I said in exasperation,  "He really isn't Mexican." I tried to explain to the cashier.


     "I really have no words." she said.


     Way over budget, I dragged my kids, whatever nationality they identified with, out of the store, and took them home again.


     Where the texts from my babysitting kid began. Kaila was asked at the end of the last school year of she was going to get a summer job. She haughtily replied that she is "self employed." She is booked most weekends anymore, and frequently non-school weekdays, as well. The kids she babysits love her, and she has a good time with it.
     Apparently one of the kids she watched this past weekend announced that Kaila was going to die.


     "Like, tonight?" Kaila asked casually.


     "Yep." the child confirmed.


     "Okay. Let me make some calls, and alert my mother, so we can commence with it." she said, rolling off the trampoline they were bouncing on.


     "NO NO NO!!!!!" The child yelled in panic, "I was only kidding! Please don't die!"


     "Alright. I suppose we can put it off till another day." agreed Kaila.


And that, pretty much sums up my eldest. Probably some of the best text conversations I have ever had, have been with Kaila.


     Last week I thought I was having a heart attack. My heart started to beat really hard and really fast. It was so hard and fast, that I could not breathe. I sat at my desk at work, trying to catch my breath, and wondering if I could put off this possible heart attack until later, because I was completely swamped, and honest to goodness, the extra work that this could potentially cause was just not acceptable. And then, it stopped. It had beat so hard, that my chest hurt for hours after. I rolled my office chair back to my vitals machine, and grabbed a quick blood pressure and pulse. Both were fine, so, in relief, I went back to work.
     The next day, I had a doctor appointment anyway, so, I brought it up. "Oh! Sounds like you had a panic/anxiety attack!" she announced.


      "What? No. Not possible. I am the calmest person ever!" I hotly protested.


     "And, how is work?"


     "Oh wow. It's insane. But, I can handle it most days."


     "Uh huh. Better figure out how to distress. If you don't, you could start having panic/anxiety attacks frequently throughout the day. It can get bad."


Well. Fabulous. I am so disappointed in myself. I don't DO anxiety. I am calm! I am the person that the people with anxiety COME to! What the heck! Just last week, I ate my PB&J with the phone between my shoulder and ear during my entire lunch break, as a patient regaled me with one of the freakiest stories I have ever heard. Calm calm calm. Never batted an eye.
      So, anyhow, I have decided to try and de-stress. Not sure how to accomplish this, but, we'll give it a go. Suggestions are always welcome!


    

The Scent of Christmas. All Over Me

     Unless you live under a rock someplace, chances are, you have heard of Essential Oils. They are everywhere, and pretty much guaranteed to do everything except fold your laundry.
     I have several friends, co workers, and even a Sister In Law who are completely into Essential Oils and use them religiously. Using essential oils and the supplements that can be purchased with them, one of my brothers has lost something like 50 pounds in only a few months. (The part of me that walks religiously, works out, eats properly and has stalled at 30 pounds after 7.5 months wants to scream in frustration at this. It isn't fair.)
     Anyhow, I have been invited to more Essential Oil parties than I can count, and if you forget if you are talking to a DoTerra person vs a Young Living person, it could mean ruining someone's day if you mention the wrong company to the wrong person. Some time ago, I came into possession of three or four bottles of Essential Oils, and, though I had no idea what to do with them, I have kept them in the kitchen cupboard - mostly because the husky tried to eat them when they were on my desk - and there have sat. One of them was peppermint oil, which, I was told can help with headaches. I have had headache issues my entire life - along with pretty much every other person ever - and at this point, I just roll with them. Well. Along with the liver ruining Acetaminophen, and the stomach ruining Ibuprofen.
     A co worker and her daughter have been making sugar scrubs, and I have somehow become the test subject for them. Which has been amazing, and I am absolutely in love with these essential oil sugar scrubs. I could get this side of poetic about these scrubs. Yesterday, I was handed a candy cane sugar scrub to try out. It featured peppermint oil and was wonderful. I used it before bed. Using the peppermint sugar scrub, I remembered the peppermint essential oil in my cupboard and thought about my current headache, which is at two months and counting now. I took the peppermint oil up to bed, and, trying to recall the instructions from Mary, the friend who had demonstrated them to me months ago, I dabbed some on my forehead. And then between my eyes. Down the bridge of my nose. Behind the ears, on the back of my neck, beside my eyes, under my nose, around my eyes, and then remembered that, you shouldn't apply too close to your eyes because: burning sensation.
     My entire face aflame, from the liberal dousing of peppermint oil, I lay back and waiting for the migraine to stop. I couldn't open my eyes because, everything was still burning. I waited. I waited. I thought about Christmas and candy canes and mint gum. I realized I now smelled like Christmas and candy canes and mint gum.
     It has now been twelve hours and, my face continues to tingle, and my head still hurts. I am in love with the sugar scrubs, but, peppermint oil did not help my headache. I needed to mention this, because, my face continues to feel minty fresh and since it is on my mind, it needs to be written about. Because that's how these Blogs work. Still. In defense of the Essential Oils: I do love those sugar scrubs!


     We are on the other side of Labor Day. Most of the weekend was spent at home cleaning, but, we did head out to go see the Rushford NY Labor Day Grand Parade.
     We had never seen this parade before, so, I dragged the entire family out to go experience it. I was informed by George "Mom. You broke my heart. We were fishing, and just about to head to a better spot, when we had to leave so you could go to this parade. Broke. My. Heart!" anyhow, we found a spot in the blazing sun, and settled in to await the parade. Which started late, but seemed nice enough. Until it stopped. I mean. STOPPED Stopped. As in: no parade. No fire trucks, no horses, no marching bands, no Shriners in go carts - nothing. Where did the parade go? My kids began watching the biggest cricket we have ever seen, as it hopped around in the road where the parade should have been. Where on earth was the parade? After a very long time, made longer still by grouchy kids in the hot sun, we began to see that something was happening down the road.


     It. Was. A. Politician. Seriously. A politician HELD. UP. AN ENTIRE PARADE FOREVER, as he and his entourage made sure they spoke at length to every single person on the parade route, threw candy at every kid, and stopped short of  have lunch with people individually. Not only did THAT politician hold up the parade, but, TWO MORE politicians did the same thing. Which extended the parade by probably half an hour, as we waiting for artificially smiling politicians to make their way down the parade route. One even spent some time petting and cooing over a small dog that was with it's family right next to us.
    Anyone who was leisurely enjoying the parade without children was probably touched by the scrupulous attention to every person along the parade route. It was probably meaningful to some people, to see them out and having entire leisurely conversations about in depth topics. However. People with kids were not as excited about the individualized attention. I will probably still vote for them though, because I actually like the politicians that were in the parade. During that time, however, I seriously reconsidered my party affiliations.




     Speaking of kids.  I need to make a special Shout Out to Liam. Liam is this boy who lives down the street from us. He has a mop of  thick hair with curls on the tips, has amazing big eyes, and looks like a stock photo for an Alter Boy. He lives for all things Halloween/horror/scary, and recently attended "Zombie Con" with his Grandmother. After which He excitedly came bounding into the house to tell me he had gotten Jason Voorhees autograph at  Zombie Con. After a recent gruesome conversation, Kaila informed him he was creeping her out. I told her though, that Serial Killers historically don't tend to get their neighbors, so, we were probably safe, and Liam could keep coming over. Also, I like the kid. He's just an all around good kid - who likes Zombies. Anyhow, Liam came over recently, and informed me: "I read your Blog. Your kids told me about it, so I started reading it." I was absurdly pleased by this, but then he said "You didn't like my recorder concert??!!!!!" (Refer back to a semi recent post that chronicled the end of year school recorder concert.) YIKES! Apparently he told this to his mother in outrage, and she replied with "Honey. Nobody likes recorder concerts." I did tell poor Liam that I have never written anything derogatory about non recorder concerts, so, he should not hesitate to join band this year in school. He agreed to give it some thought. Anyhow, Liam, the kid that looks like a choir boy and thinks along the lines of all things undead, has asked for special mention here. And, since I genuinely love Liam, I thought it would be okay to mention him. Also, he offered to help with fall decorations, and, because of him and his brilliant ideas, my kitchen light is now decorated for fall. I did turn down the suggestion of hanging creepy things off my kitchen light - as, I am not partial to  images of dead things hanging over the area where I prepare food, but, otherwise, he did a good job. Since he is definitely one of my favorite neighbors, and an all around nifty kid,  I thought he deserved honorable mention here. (There, Liam! You are in my Blog now!)


     Pretty much, that's about it. Since this year would not be complete without me signing myself up for as many physical things to sign up for, which sound way nicer before signing up than they ever do at any "Start" line or date, I suppose I should mention where we are at, currently. In two days, we find out the official winner of the 1,000,000 step challenge. The Grandma and I both hit one million steps the same week. I had MORE steps total that week, but, we both hit it. I think there is also a prize for most steps overall, including extra steps awarded for doing workouts etc. Not sure who has actually won the contest(s) at this point. Nor are we sure what First Prize is, honestly.
     Also, I signed myself up to do "The Ridge Walk" in mid October. I have wanted to do it for some time now. I signed myself up for a 9 mile walk, and, my sister in law said she would do it, too. It gets me out of teaching Sunday School, which is about the only perk at this point. I read the description of the walk that was included with my confirmation of sign up email. It is the most difficult of all the hikes, and, is for experienced walkers/hikers only. If we are not at a certain point of the walk by a certain time, we get the "Bus ride of shame" as I have started calling it, back to the start up line.
    
     Not sure why I continue to do this to myself, but, at the very least, it will be entertaining, right?


    


    


    

An Hour in the Brain of a Very Not So Perfect Mama

     Yesterday after work, I unenthusiastically schlepped across the street to the local mall, with the seats of my van folded down, to go get the new dryer.


     I accidently parked at an entrance that I thought was close to the Sears store, but, in fact, was not. I then walked past a man of indiscernible age, sitting next to the entrance, looking homeless, and completely uninterested in the fact that someone was standing within 2 feet of him, and, in my tired and hyper overdrive state, walked right past him. Through the entire tired trek through the mall (Seriously, it wasn't much of a trek. It's a small mall.) I felt the absolute guilt building up. Guilt all over the place. What if the man was homeless? What if he was sick? What if he was on drugs? What if he needed help?  What kind of person was I, that I hadn't even stopped to talk to him?? I stumbled past a security guard that looked about 15 years old and tried not to look thuggish, as I worried about that man outside. (I have a security guard phobia. I have been followed by security through Wal Mart THREE ADDITIONAL TIMES since the Christmas shopping debacle of last December. I must look shady.) I was thinking about this and about the time, as, I had precisely 45 minutes to pick up the dryer, get it loaded into the van, do the 25 minute drive home, and get Lexi to the High School for 7th Grade Orientation. Also, I was starving, and had nothing appropriate to wear to the school, which brings us back to the dryer - and the piles of laundry sitting in front of the broken dryer at home.  In that pile would be Mom appropriate clothes. Which brought me to "perfect mom". She is this woman who intimidates the daylights out of me. She is always perfect. Her hair, her clothes, her accessories, her figure, her life. I feel inadequate every single time I am near her. Perfect mom was going to also be at the 7th grade orientation. Perfect  Mom would never be this harried, this stressed, I just KNEW she would have the perfect clothes on,  and perfect mom is also a good Christian woman, who absolutely would have stopped and helped out the (possibly) homeless man on her way into the mall. Seriously. This woman intimidates the daylights out of me. I have a hard time even forming words to talk to her, because I am pretty sure I will sound like an idiot if I make the attempt. I will never ever be Perfect Mom.


      Upon entrance to Sears, I am besieged by three sales associates, all wanting to help. I tell them I am here for a pick up, and two of them disappear, leaving me with one I am familiar with. He is the sweetest, nicest older gentleman ever.
     He also is completely unable to ever work the computers.


     My mind was currently at:

• You are going to HELL! If that man outside was a test, you just FAILED!
• I am going to be so so so late and Lexi is going to be so so so upset!
• What if the dryer doesn't fit? In the van or into the laundry room?
• I honest to goodness have nothing decent to wear to this thing!
• What is the weather outside, anyhow? How did I not notice what the weather was???
• Why is the Security Guard in here - again?!
• Seriously. Am I old, or, do they hire middle school kids for these security things?
• I am really sick of Turkey soup. Seriously. Sick of it.
• OMG. I NEED to get out of here! I am going to be so late!
• I think I am in Sears enough, I could probably help this guy figure the computer out.
• Did he really just snicker over my last name? Well. Everybody does, honestly.
• What if the guy sitting outside really needed someone to stop and ask if he was okay?
• Okay. If I can get on the road in the next five minutes, and everyone does speed limit, and I don't get stuck behind someone doing the traditional 27 mph all the way home, I can make it in time.
• We are going to have to walk to the school - the dryer is in the van. The van needs to stay home.
• OMG. If I am late, Lexi will be in tears.
• Seriously, just give me the darn dryer!!!!!!!
• I really cannot afford this stupid thing.

Anyhow. I eventually got clearance to bring my vehicle to the back entrance to Sears, and pick up the appliance I really did not want to have to buy in the first place. Back through the mall, and down the hallway to the entrance I had parked near. I opened the door, and found the man still alive and sitting there. I stopped.


     "Are you okay?"


     "Yeah. Why?"


     "I just wanted to make sure. Is there anything I can do for you? Or, are you just hanging out?"


     "Nah, I'm all good lady. Thanks for asking."


     "Are you sure?"


     "Yeah. I'm sure."


     "Okay. Well. Have a good night."


     "Thanks."


Not sure if that was helpful to anyone. I still felt like I could have done more for him. Anyhow. On to the loading dock. The dryer was loaded in short order, with plenty of comments that this was a heavier than usual dryer "Oh! She ordered the BIG one!" along the way. My brain was still in hyper gear, and my body was not. Thus the following took place:


     "Okay, you're all set! Thanks for shopping with us again!"


     "You guy are great! When the next appliance dies, You come see me!"


Black stares


     "Oh. My. Goodness. I MEANT I will come see me!"


Blank stares


     "You. I mean. You know. Ummm. Hope this doesn't die?"


 Blank stares


     "You're all great! Thanks!"


And I dove into my van and left in short order.


     I decided on a super fast stop to Burger King. Just a small milkshake and fries. I couldn't remember the last time I had either. Or stopped at a fast food place. I placed my order, and promptly forgot what kind of shake I had ordered. What the hell? Seriously? I should have just gone home. I didn't have time for this anyhow.


     "HEY! MORIAH! Is that YOU?" Came a shout. My old next door neighbor happened to be standing near the drive thru. We commiserated about how much we both still disliked his ex wife, I admired pictures of his new sports car, bought in celebration of no longer having to pay alimony, and, discovered I had ordered a strawberry shake. Which is what I wanted, so, that was good.


     I made it home with ten minutes to spare, and decided that the clothing dilemma was solved, because I did not have time to change, anyhow. So, wearing my black scrubs, I trotted Lexi  down the road to the school.
     Where I discovered that  the weather was hot and sunny. And the school was warm and muggy. And Perfect Mom looked perfect. I did not. I had my old glasses that did not want to stay attached to my face, balanced on my nose, (If you recall, my good glasses are someplace at the bottom of Black Lake.)  my hair was just awful, I was wearing hot black scrubs, and, considering that less than an hour ago, I could barely form a coherent thought or sentence, I decided that this was probably not the day to try and strike up a conversation with her.


     Lexi, however, was a treat. She excitedly greeted every person she knew with a compliment. She had something nice to say to everyone. She introduced herself to all her new teachers, she had dressed up and accessorized for the occasion, and, was generally determined to say something nice to absolutely everyone, so that no one would feel awkward. She insisted upon being the kindest person she could be. I was so proud of her!


     Anyhow. When all was said and done, the dryer was installed. The laundry was begun. The first load went into the dryer, and the array of buttons was perused, and the dryer was started. In "Energy Star" mode. Which, I discovered, takes approximately 40 days and 40 nights to actually dry a load of laundry. You can be an energy star, or, you can dry your laundry before the kids outgrow it. I don't know if you can have both. Mostly, I was too tired to decide last night.


     And, there you have, an hour in the brain of a very not so perfect mama. Give or take a few minutes or so....


    

Veggies All Over the Darn Place

     I have a very rare break at the craziness of my job, so, decided to do a quick update. I do this, over tea and zucchini bread. Mostly because, it is probably the only opportunity to drink tea and eat zucchini bread that I will have. Follow along:


     This past weekend, we had no obligations. Nobody needed to be carted/hauled/present/taken/obligated to be anywhere for anything. Well, except Kaila, who had to babysit all weekend, but, all her babysitting jobs were within walking distance. So, I decided to get caught  up on stuff. I made a full turkey dinner. Mowed the lawn, cleaned out the van, cleaned the house, weeded my gardens (YAY! First year pretty much EVER that I have kept my gardens up this long! Progress!) ordered a new dryer, grocery shopped, and, cooked.
     By "cooked" I mean, I cooked everything. I turned the turkey carcass into stock, and the stock into turkey veggie rice soup, the kids helped eat most of the sugar cookie dough make sugar cookies, I turned a monster zucchini into four loaves of zucchini walnut bread, I made a broccoli salad from a recipe I saw on Facebook. I cooked and I cooked and I cooked. There were no veggies that were safe, in my kitchen. Veggies all over the darn place. Actually, when the kids were helping to cart in groceries, one of them inquired if we were having a party, as, there was an awful lot of vegetables in those grocery bags...
     Anyhow. After a solid eight hours of cooking yesterday, dinner time rolled around. The refrigerator (AKA, The only appliance I own that hasn't had to be replaced since I bought it 6 years ago.) was full of all this veggie goodness, the soup was simmering in an enormous  stock pot on the stove, and the kids were hungry. As were all seven of the various neighbor kids that seem to live at my house these days. The extras were sent home, and my own kids filed in for dinner. "What's for dinner?" they inquired.


     "What do you mean, what's for dinner? I just spent all day cooking it! We have soup! We have broccoli salad! Bearded Man smoked ribs out on his smoker! And, after dinner, there are cookies and zucchini bread!"


     "But. We don't LIKE soup. Or broccoli. Can we just have PB&J, or cereal or something?"


     "There are approximately four thousand servings of soup in that pot! Eat soup!!!"


     "You should probably freeze it. You will have soup for your work lunches!" They informed me.


Lexi tried some soup. That was about it. I now have a refrigerator full of all things veggie, and, no one to eat them. Except the zucchini bread. They will be all over that. Thus, the rare break at work, in which I incorporated zucchini bread and tea, as, the scavengers at home will likely eat most of it before I have a chance at it.


     It's hard to believe, but, the Second Annual Dick Family Trip to Black Lake has come and gone already. It's this weird little time warp, in which, once you are gone, you can barely believe it happened, and it's a nice memory, but, once you are there, it seems like you never really left, and everything is exactly the same as it was (yesterday) when you were here last. This year, more notice was taken of the campers next door to us. They just so happen to have two boys that just so happen to be the same ages as our two girls. All I have to say about that, is, a "One foot apart at all times" rule was instated fairly early in the week.
     Some high lights of the trip included : Water Tubing! Both of my boys loved it, both of my girls hated it. And, nobody could go fast enough for George. We discovered Lexi can scream loudly enough that she can be heard clear across the lake, during her (only) attempt at tubing.
  
     A near death experience out on the lake one day, when three of us families went out, it turns out, ahead of a storm. Boats were stuck, my glasses were lost, one boat broke down, and waves were crashing over our wildly tossing boat. Everyone and everything ended up okay in the long run, but, it was a pretty intense hour or so...


     Crazy heat. Every day was nearly unbearable, as everyone wilted under high temps. So, most afternoons were spent in the water.


     Fishing. There was a lot of fishing, and threats aimed at Bearded Man, regarding his alarm going off every. single. day. of. our. vacation. The only day it did not go off; the last day of vacation. However,  his boss called him early, asking him to come in. So, out of the nine days off I had: Not one of them was spent sleeping in. But, I suppose lots of fish were caught, so, there is that.


     George has been offered a job working at the camp ground the summer he turns 16. Just like at home, we couldn't keep him from his wanders to visit people. One morning, after searching the entire campground for him to no avail, I finally decided he was probably visiting again. Sure enough. He was having coffee with the Grandparents of two kids across the way from our cabin, as the grandkids slept. They were so charmed by George, that, he was promptly invited for breakfast, where, they made him pancakes and bacon. He made his rounds, not unlike at home, and already has a job lined up in ten years. Because: George. That's why.


     It was just a nice week. The same people come every year, so, it's sort of becoming a reunion at this point. The kids love it, and, we are already re-booked for next year.




     On to the appliances. 6.5 years ago, shortly after I had George, as nursing school graduation was fast approaching, and the washer was on it's last legs, and the refrigerator was ridiculously small, I decided we should go buy new appliances. There was an income tax credit for anyone who switched to Energy Star appliances that year, as well as some incredible rebates. I managed to score a new washer, dryer, dishwasher and refrigerator for an incredible price, after all the rebates and tax credits were accounted for. I was absolutely smugly proud of my brains and savings at the time. And, all this was purchased with all four of the children - including a weeks old George in tow, in February, thru the snow, and with less than enthusiastic sales associates at Lowes. The delivery people were even worse than the sales associates, and all clearly hated their jobs. Also, somehow my refrigerator was lost in transit, and we waited forever for it. But, I saved lots of money, right?


     Within 1 year and 2 months, (two months after the warranty ran out), the dishwasher was dead.


     After 5 years of constant fighting with it, the washer died.


     It made it to 6.5 years, but, now the dryer is dead, too. I pick up the new one tomorrow after work.
I was hoping to just fix it (again), but, the Bearded Repair Man has announced it is irreparable. So, in full house/van cleaning regalia, including my hair up in a brightly colored handkerchief and sticking out in a million different directions, I grudgingly hopped into the van to go get a new dryer. The clothing situation is dire, currently. I don't have time to mess with this anymore.
     To their credit, the Sears sales associates are a lot nicer than the Lowes people were. Since we seem to be becoming regular customers and all that... even WITH the insane clothes and hair-do, they were very nice. I asked them to show me a large capacity dryer. There were precisely two of them available. One of which happened to be the match to my washer. I have found that, to have large capacity, to accommodate large families, one must also have a paycheck of large capacities. Because those appliances are way more expensive than the reasonably priced appliances for smaller needs. (By the way. I do not currently possess large capacity paychecks...)  So, tomorrow, I will put all the seats in the minivan down, and haul another appliance home. As much as I was anti mini van in the beginning, I have to say, it has proven invaluable since I have owned it. There. I admitted it. I kind of like the van.


     Till next time! 


    

Busy Days Update

     "You people in Western New York are never happy unless the temperature is 75 degrees. No higher, no lower!" A patient that normally resides in Florida informed me last week.
     I don't think he is too far off the mark, either.


     That being said, it's been hotter than we are used to around here lately. Our lawns are burned brown, our flowers are wilted, the fields and farmers are all in despair. Water levels are low, creeks are dried up, and everyone pretty much talks constantly about how worrisome this has become. A week of constant steady rain would not be unwelcome.


     Due to the temps, I have taken the kids to the local town pool as often as I have been able lately. Saturday afternoon, after a morning of inflicting the child abuse/slave labor of blueberry picking onto my children, I took the boys swimming. The girls had other things to do. We no sooner arrived at the pool, when George began to beg.


     "Mama? Can I swim in the deep end?"


     "No. I don't think so. I just don't know if you're ready..."


     "I do it at the school pool, when Kaila takes us, and I can swim to the bottom of the deep end there!"


     "I know. But, I just worry you are going to push too hard and then drown because you have zero fear."


     "Mama. Watch." And with that, he hoisted himself out of the shallow end, marched over to the deep end and jumped right in while I tried not to shriek. The lifeguards merely looked bored. George then proceeded to swim across the pool back and forth, and then swim down to the bottom.


     "Okay. Fine. You can swim in the deep end."


     On Sunday, I took the entire family to the pool, after a morning of more child abuse/slave labor of house work and grocery shopping. George jumped into the deep end, but, after about two minutes was not happy with just swimming in the deep end. Joe has been working on perfecting a deep dive and a shallow dive, to earn Scout badges. Lexi, who is half mermaid, loves to dive for the sheer joy of it. My niece and nephew were there, both diving as well.
     After a few cannon balls and running jumps into the pool, George began to watch the older kids carefully. Lexi gave him a few tips, and, within five minutes, George was diving just as well as the rest of them. There was absolutely no practice, no hesitation, no teaching - he just dove right in.


     This is not unlike when he learned to ride a bike when he was 3, and was jumping ramps by the end of the first day on two wheels.


     After I took the boys swimming on Saturday, everyone pretty much had things to do, except Joe and I. So, I decided to take Joe to a local county fair that I had never gone to before. We arrived to the fair in no time, and paid to get in.


     "Joe! The demolition derby is tonight! Do you want to go take a look?"


     "No. That is very dangerous."


     "Well, I suppose it is a little dangerous for the drivers, but, we can just look for a few minutes?"


     "No. It makes me very uncomfortable."


     "Well, let's see what else is here. Do you want to ride the rides?"

     "No, I don't think so."


     "There's bumper cars..."


     "Okay. We can do bumper cars." he agreed. So, he did the bumper cars. And the slide. And that's about it.


     "No rides, Joe?"


     "Mom. I am a boy going thru puberty. My body is confused enough, without throwing it up into the air and spinning it around at high speeds. I am not going on any rides."


     "Okay. You make an interesting observation. Better safe than sorry."


     Joe wasn't interested in the out buildings, or the animals, or the displays. The more we walked, the closer we came to the demolition derby.


     "Mom! What are they using? Monster Trucks? What kind of vehicles do they do these things with?"


     "Just regular old cars that are pretty much junk, but somebody was able to make them run enough to do this. The participants know they are all headed to the junk yard after getting all beat up at this derby."


     "Why are they so loud?"


     "I don't think mufflers are a priority. Or even used. Come on, let's go over and just take a peak!"


     "This is not safe. I am not comfortable with this."


     "Joe! It's fine, come look."


     "Mom! Look at this! These walls are not very thick! Or high! At any point, a car could come through the walls. Or over the walls. Anybody could die or get hurt. And what is the point of going really fast in a car to deliberately smash into other people? Did you know if you do that on the outside, people go to jail, or the get hurt and go to the  hospital, or go to court??? Why would anybody think this is a good idea?! Just LOOK at these walls! Mom. Look. The stands are really close to the track. What if parts go flying into the crowd? This is not responsible. This is unsafe."


     Wouldn't you know it. At that very moment, the entire thing was paused, because they had to get Emergency Personnel involved because of some emergency. I couldn't tell if the emergency was in the stands, or on the track, because Joe had just seen his entire argument confirmed, and refused to watch any longer. This is what happens when you take a very literal and very smart and very serious and very articulate boy to the fair.
     Joe did have a good time though. Because Joe LOVES Fair food. He ate pretty much everything.


      Honestly, I love looking at the world through his perspective, and I love conversations with him. It can be serious theories about space or weather, or, it can be a full blown argument over super heroes. It's never dull. We have surpassed myself googling things for him, to, just handing him my phone to look things up. (The iPad has been hidden away indefinitely. The kids would sit with it all day and half the night if they could. I have seen way more outside play, with the disappearance of electronics.)




     Kaila has had an ongoing argument with the cable company. Our wifi never seems to work well. Since Kaila is the biggest wifi consumer in the household, with her phone, she tends to notice it the most. Kaila has never shown the slightest hesitation to whip out her phone and call to complain about things when she is not happy, and the cable company is no exception. She is literally on a first name basis with someone from the cable company named Julie, who has an Indian accent. Anyhow, Apparently the wifi was not working again yesterday, after Kaila had just spent babysitting money renting movies off the Roku. This was completely the last straw for Kaila, who then dialed up the cable company again and informed them that this was unacceptable service, and something needed to be done once and for all, because it is absolutely ridiculous that a teenage girl who is on her phone all the time should have the cable company listed as her number five most called number. At which she was coldly and rudely informed that the cable company does their best. To which she snapped back "Sweety. Obviously your best is not good enough." at which the poor guy on the other end (Julie was not in, evidently.) scheduled a technician to come to the house today. And that an 18 year old adult would need to be present. Kaila haughtily agreed to this. She then hung up  from the cable company and got in touch with the next door neighbor and asked her to please be the adult on the premises when the cable company arrived.
     After setting everything up to her satisfaction, she informed me of all this via text. While I was at work. In Buffalo. Surrounded by colleagues. I am very proud of my calm face as I text back "WHAT???!!!!!!"  Honestly, she has better luck with the cable company than I ever have. Anyhow, the cable company came and went today, to Kaila's satisfaction. The text I received was "He just finished up. I picked a new name for the new box. You're welcome." "O.M.G., what is it???" "Bill Wi the Science Fi"


     And that's about it lately. Mostly our days lately consist of work/cleaning/cooking/laundry. Thank goodness for my cleaning sidekick, Lexi, who will happily put on loud music that can range from today's music (Of which she knows every word of every song) to 50's rock and roll, (as, I am pretty sure she was supposed to be born in the 50's and somebody forgot to send her to whomever she was supposed to be born to, so I got to keep her.) Lexi is the only one of my kids who inherited my clean freak streak, and is happy to help on "clean the house" days, as well as shame her siblings for their slovenly laziness.


     Stay cool and think rainy thoughts!


    
    

Liquor in the Church Parking Lot

     I am finding that death and funerals are exhausting. On  mental, physical and emotional levels. I honestly don't recall the last time I was this worn out.


     This has adversely affected the Million Step Challenge. According to my personal goal, I should have been finished with it by next weekend. While it is doubtful that will happen, I am hoping now for it to be done by the weekend following.
     With that in mind, and at the urging of a friend, I was up at 5am today, to go for a nice stroll.


     I am now even more tired.


     While I am completely exhausted, my children are not! George continues to be George. He bounced onto the bed at 6am Sunday morning demanding a weather report for the day because he wanted to go fishing. (The child is obsessed with fishing.) While he did not get to fish that day, we did decide to go on one of our spur of the moment "Adventures". The kids love it. Every so often, I will look at the piles of chores and obligations, at my kids who are sick of the house and each other, and  yell "C'mon kids! Let's go on an Adventure!" Where we then proceed to meander around the countryside finding different things to do. We never really know where we will end up.
     Kaila suggested it, just as I was thinking it this past weekend. So, I recalled a nifty little out of the way spot, off the beaten path. It has several sets of waterfalls and is this side of magical. We packed a picnic and headed out for the day. I am not even kidding, when I say that we sung every single verse to "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" on top of our lungs on the way there.


     It was the perfect outlet for the kids. Especially George. George has zero fear, and now accompanies his craziness with hummed or sung circus music, ending with "HEY!" or "Hup hup!!!!" as he flips or balances or does whatever he does that causes my gray hairs. Last week, I was greeted at the front door with "George learned how to do flips today." "Oh? That's nice." "Yes. But, it was AROUND THE BASKETBALL HOOP!!!!!" I still don't know how he managed it. It's 9 feet up in the air.
     He can now balance across the railing of the front porch, do impressive flips around bars of swing sets and playground equipment, swim to the bottom of a 10 foot pool to retrieve diving rings ("But, that hurt my ears, Mom, so, I don't think I will do it again for awhile.") He can stand on the cross bar of his bike, do wheelies, and has created an entire pit of mud complete with rivers, ponds, roads and bridges in the yard. He also got my cousin to give him a ride in her convertible with the top down.


     Anyhow, we played in the waterfalls for awhile, and even found a swimming hole near the base of one set of falls. We finished up with a picnic near the Genesee River, a few miles up the road, and found ice cream on the way home. It was the perfect "escape" day.


     My Dad's funeral was the day before our Adventure. I suppose we have been lucky, really, because my siblings and I have really not had to deal too much with death as a whole. Those of us in the medical field have, of course dealt with it, but, not really very often on a personal level. Our Dad's passing was, I think, pretty traumatic for us all. From the fall down the stairs, to the final breath, it was rough. I wasn't sure how we would all get through the funeral, and everything leading up to it. We arrived at the church - the same church I was married at, and Kaila was baptized at - and once all assembled, one of my brothers whipped out tiny bottles of liquor and handed one to each of us. You know, those sample bottles you can find at the check out of all liquor stores? "Oh my Gosh, Ben! Liquor in the church parking lot??!!!!" was my first reaction.
     It was the best idea ever. We all stood in the ever present "Fisher Circle" and toasted Dad before heading in. It was the perfect thing to brace ourselves for a funeral we all wanted to be done with. Anyhow, I think the grieving process is normal and natural. I just think that I never really experienced it to it's fullest extent before now. I suppose you can't understand it, until you experience it.


     Poor Joe arrived home from Boy Scout Camp at 10 pm the night before the funeral. He had spent a week at the Camp on Chautauqua Lake, about an hour from home. He informed me that he had only showered once the entire time he was there - the day he arrived. It was announced that he did not need to shower, because he had been in the lake most of the time. He was hustled into the shower at home and sent off to bed in short order,  because we all had to be up early the next day. Once at the church, Joe became self appointed door holder. I was so preoccupied, that I really wasn't paying attention.
     About halfway through the funeral, one of my brothers tapped me on the shoulder and whispered "Can you have George head back there and close the doors? I can't hear over the traffic." Off George went. He was gone. And gone. And gone. And gone.
     Minutes later, he was back "Mama?" he whispered "What doors do I need to close?" I told him the ones that were open to the outside. And he was off again. I sat in absolute stillness, looking strait ahead, as I heard the unmistakable sounds of whispered arguing and scuffling taking place in the back of the church. George's absence was lengthy, and something was definitely happing behind me someplace. However, I was at the front of the church at my Father's funeral, and I did not dare to turn around. With eyes closed, I listened as the muffled noises continued. Eventually, George reappeared beside me. "Mama?" he whispered angrily, "It was the back doors to the outside that were supposed to be closed, right?" "Yes." "Joe wouldn't let me. He was still holding them open!!" "What?? He was still back there  holding the doors open???" I whispered back in shock. Peaking over, I saw a very upset Joe sliding into the other end of the church pew. I had no idea that he had not even been with us for nearly half of the service. Biting back an inappropriate snicker at my boys, we managed to get through the rest of the service without further incident. Peppered by "Mama? How many songs do we have left before the end?" from George.


     Now, we are back to getting life back to normal. I say this while thinking about Kaila's hair. She has been begging for sometime for permission to have her hair dyed an auburn color. I finally acquiesced yesterday, and hauled her in to my sister's salon. Four hours later, and my kid looks exactly like the Little Mermaid. It just about killed me to let Kaila have her long thick beautiful hair dyed. I felt very old and very parental as I thought of the nine million reasons why she shouldn't do it. But, it turned out beautiful, and she is thrilled, and my sister is amazing at what she does. Also, red hair dye tends to fade pretty quickly...
     Also with life back to normal, canning/freezing season is here! So far I have canned strawberry jam, and frozen some peas. I intend to exploit the child laborers at home and drag them to the blueberry fields in short order, so I can freeze blueberries and make blueberry jam next. I will hate every moment of it, but, I do love the finished product! Also, I think I am sufficiently over the peach trauma from a few years ago, to give peach preserves another try. I dunno. We'll see what time and energy allow.


     That's life in a nutshell around here. I promise, the next post will be so much happier!