Six Months

Ummm...
Where to start?...

Six months.
The light bulb post.
I don't think I proved my point with my hubby.
There's currently 2 bulbs in our family room out.
They've been out for months.
There's 5 more still working.
So I suppose he thinks we're good for a few more months.

Six months.
A couple of hard decisions.
Three birthdays...the boys.
One anniversary...19 years!
(We bought our very first bedroom set.
A queen size bed even.
I feel so grown-up.)
New jobs for Ryan and me.
(Ryan is marketing Carlos O' Kellys.
I'm teaching preschool part time.)
The busiest, strangest summer on record.
(Two trips to the Chicago area,
a trip to Phoenix,
two trips to Oklahoma,
two trips to Kansas City,
a trip to Minnesota,
and we just threw in a trip to Texas over Labor Day weekend.
All by car.
I'm choosing not to add up the gas bill for all that.
And days upon days of rain.
So only one trip to the pool.)
A high school student.
(What?
I'm not old enough for this.
Certainly I'm still in my 20's, right?)

Six months.
They all look so big.
Life.
It keeps moving.

I Won

We have a ceiling fan with 4 lights in our bedroom.
When we moved in,
almost 5 years ago now,
one bulb was burned out.

For some reason,
just to be a pain, I suppose,
I decided I wasn't going to change the bulb.
I wanted to see how long it took Ryan to do it.

Time went by.
Probably a year or so.
And another bulb burned out.

And still I waited.

Then another year or so and a third bulb went out.
Leaving us with one good bulb.

And still I waited.

Inevitably, recently, the last bulb burned out.
Leaving us with no bulbs.

I got some bulbs.
Set them on the dresser.
(See, I conceded a bit.
I'm not totally stubborn.)
And waited.

A couple days later.
I walked into our bedroom.
Flipped the switch.
And we had light.
Amazing.

I won the nearly 5 year battle.
I think...

Our Sick Christmas

Christmas was...
different...
unusual.

Christmas Eve is our day at home.
The kids wear their pj's all day.
Watch movies.
Relax.
Whatever.
Snacky stuff for lunch.
Same meal every year for supper.
Then presents in the evening.

About 10:00 a.m. Brookie says:
I don't feel so good.
An hour or so later,
into the restroom she runs.
Yippee.
You know what that means.

We went ahead with our plans and traditions.
So while we enjoyed our hummus,
fatoush salad,
grilled chicken,
fruit salad
and special Christmas drink,

Brookie stayed on the couch.
Looking miserable.

We debated waiting to open presents.
But the boys weren't too crazy about that.
She can just lay right there on the couch.
We'll bring all her presents to her.

We took our traditional pictures.
They always turn out perfectly.

 Finally convinced Brookie to get in the picture.

As soon as I was done taking this picture,
she ran to the bathroom.
She looks a little pale, huh?

We opened presents
right after she was done in the restroom.
Because, you know, there's a small window
after you loose the contents of your stomach
when you feel a bit better.
We took advantage of that window.

What is this?

 Oh! Hahaha!

 Mustaches.

Sweet lips.

That's me.

The boys giggled.

Brookelynn found it disgusting.

We made it through the unwrapping.
And I even got a few hours of sleep.
Before Jobie was up.
And making frequent trips to the restroom himself.

So Christmas morning I called my parents.
Not sure if we could do Christmas at their house that evening.
My dad was not feeling well either.
And we rely on him to grill our Christmas steaks.
After several phone calls with my brother's family,
we all decided to just do appetizers and open presents.
As long as no one else got sick later in the day.
And enjoy our steaks another day
when everyone felt a bit more normal.

Jobie had been fine since mid-morning.
But as soon as we got to my parents,
he started acting blah.
And fell asleep on my lap
before we had even eaten.
We let him sleep for about an hour.
Then attempted to wake him up.
The others were anxious to open presents.

He finally perked up.
About half-way through opening gifts.

Ryan got sick 3 days later.
On Brookelynn's birthday.

Then we were at his parents the next day for another Christmas.

The little one, in the middle on Jobie's lap,
was very stinky.
No one wanted to hold him.
We decided this picture captured our family pretty well.

So far the rest of us have avoided getting sick...

Thankful for family.
Thankful for health.
Thankful for flexibility.

But most of all,
thankful for Jesus.

In the Middle of a Burger King

(I feel like I need to set up this post 
with some info on our Saturdays.)

Most Saturdays are spent at the soccer fields.
With 3 kids playing and one those kiddos reffing also,
we are there all day.
(Brookelynn will ref games before or after her own game.)
So we usually are leaving the house no later than 8am.
And getting home between 5 and 6:30.
The soccer fields are about 35 minutes from our house.
With gas prices the way they are,
once we leave home,
we don't come back until we are all done.

It gets a little old.
And the boys might complain a bit.
But she's earning some money.
So it's worth it.
I guess.

Which brings me to our little story:

This weekend was our last weekend for the fall season.
Brookelynn reffed a game at 9:00.
Since none of our kids had to play in a game until 12:00,
we had some time to kill.
If it's nice, we typically just hang out there.
But it was cold Saturday morning.
And Ryan needed to get some work done.
So we went to a nearby Burger King
for some coffee, orange juice and free wi-fi.
They also happen to have a play place
that the boys love.

So, there we are.
Sitting at a booth.
With our coffee.
Ryan with his ipad and phone.
Me with my phone.
(I left my book at home.
So was reading one of 
Francis Chan's books on my phone.)
Still with our coats on.
(It was cold in there.)
The boys running around the play area.
For nearly 2 hours.
Are you getting a good picture in your head?
We look like...moochers.
And I was feeling a bit conspicuous.

Oh, but it gets better...
The boys, after drinking their oj,
naturally need to visit the restroom.
Often.
Jobe, also naturally, is holding himself.
Every time he heads to the restroom.
After one of those trips for both Ez and Jobe,
Ezra comes out of the restroom without his brother.
Walks to our table and says:
Jobe pooped his pants.

He was in the men's restroom.
So, guess who got to go help the boy?
Not me!
I'm just sitting in the booth thinking:
what are we going to do with those undies?
I sent Jake into the restroom to get the car keys from Ryan.
Went out to the car.
Got a Dillon's sack.
Stuck my head in the restroom door.
Handed the bag to Ryan.
Then went back to the car to drive to the nearby Kmart .
To buy some undies.

When I got back,
Ryan was back in our booth (ha!)
with the Dillon's sack sitting at his feet saying:
What do I do with this?
I handed Jobe a new pair of undies.
Told him to go put them on in the bathroom.
Picked up the plastic bag.
And threw it away.

Jobie comes out of the restroom.
Happy about his new dino undies.
And goes back to playing.
While I just look at Ryan,
put my head in my hands and say:
I feel so redneck.

A bit later, a gentleman,
who had been sitting alone nearby,
came over to our table
and introduced himself as a pastor of a local baptist church.
He gave us a brochure for a basketball program they have.
And told us he would personally scholarship 2 of our boys.
So sweet.
But also, further evidence of how we looked.

We had a wonderful visit with him.
And found out that his son
was actually engaged to a girl that I know in our little town.
It's a small world.

It was a humbling morning for me.
I'm a proud girl.
Appearance means too much to me.

Thank you, Lord, for teaching me little lessons.
In the middle of a Burger King.

Happenings

A week goes by fast.

Still waiting for my sub license.
The checks have all cleared.
So they liked my money anyway.

Jobe was sick Wednesday and Thursday.
He actually wanted to go to school
And I actually wanted him to go to school yesterday.
Already not used to having kiddos at home during the day.
That didn't take long.

Thursday was superhero day for the older kids.

As is typical, I had to force Jake to pose for the camera.
His friends...not so much.
They are both hams.

 Super Jayhawk, Auqa Man and Newton Knight Bat.

The girls got into it too.

When I asked my niece what her superhero name was,
she said: Woman, Woman.
Ok, then.
She and Brookie make me laugh.
All the time.
Brookelynn is, obviously, Batgirl.

You also might be wondering
why there are so many kiddos at my house.
Before school.
Well, we double the number of children in our house
every school day morning.
Two of Jake's friends.
My niece.
And one of Ezra's friends.
Crazy, huh?

And lately, somehow,
we've even had time to do stuff like this in the morning.

 Candyland with Daddy.

And reading books.

Captain Underpants is a favorite right now.
I don't understand the appeal.
But he's a boy.
And he's 8.
That's probably enough said.
Plus he looks so cute in his glasses,
I just love it when he reads anything.

Tuesday I let my hair dry naturally.

And then put a little gel in it.
It's got a little wave to it when I do that.
And I thought it looked ok.
I was waiting outside of the school.
With 5,000 other parents.
At the end of the school day.
When Ezra walked out, he said
(in a not so quiet voice):
Mom, what is up with your hair?

Hmmm.
How did I respond to that?
I ignored it.
And then, did the same thing again Thursday.
Just for fun.
And then, didn't comb my hair this morning
before taking him to school.
(He always wants me to walk him to his classroom door.)
He didn't even notice.

So here's what I've learned.
Bed head is acceptable.
Naturally dried, gelled hair is not.
Well, according an 8 year old boy
whose favorite book series is about a
tighty-whitey and red cape wearing boy anyway.

And that would be precisely why
I still pick his clothes out every morning.

Chatty, No Chatty

I've been sick.
Yuck.
Not stomach sick, thankfully.
Fever.

Yesterday was the first day
I've felt good for quite a while.

Ryan called over lunch.
And I talked and talked and talked.
I think I haven't used enough of my words lately.
I've got days to catch up on.
Lucky man.

I made cookies while the kids were at school.
And the whole time my mind was going 900 mph.
Being out of it for a bit (no comments necessary, thank you)
makes you appreciate being able to think again.

I was giddy over using my new spreader.

It's the simple things for me...

My hubby brought it home the other day.

I've always wanted one.

So exciting.
It was so much easier to get the peanut butter out of the jar.

We are supposed to recycle our peanut butter jars.
We are also supposed to rinse our jars out first.
Peanut butter does not rinse.
I just throw the jar away.
Shhh.

It's always more fun to cook with cute shoes.

I was also giddy about my vanilla.

I got this at the Alamo gift shop this summer.
A gift for me!
From me!
It's so much cheaper than the grocery store.
So excited every time I use it.
I'm a baking/cooking nerd.

I made no bake cookies.
Then, I was reading a friend's blog this morning
and she had just made them too.
(Great minds think alike, Carmen.
But my recipe is slightly different from yours.
And I don't serve them on pretty tea plates.
We just peel them right off the waxed paper.
Cuz we're classy.)

Didn't know it had been so long

since I had last made them.

When the kiddos got home from school,

they all cheered.

Yea me!

So, I've been chatty.

The girl, no chatty.

The kids are all off school the rest of this week.

My daughter woke up in a lovely mood.

Teenager.

Heavy sighing.

While walking around the house.

Sighing.

Laying down on the couch.

Sighing.

Walking around the house.

Sighing.

Sitting at the bar in the kitchen.

Sighing.

Never talking.

Acting bored with life.

I ignored her.

Sent Ryan a text.

About HIS daughter.

Made pancakes.

Sang.

Hummed.

Said weird things.

All to annoy her more.

My mom rocks!

I'm pretty sure that's what she was thinking.

Then.

Just like that.

She was fine.

Started playing games with the boys.

Talking to me.

All happy, happy.

Teenager.

I am never moody.

Sheesh.

Third Time

Is, apparently, really the charm.

I'm sure you've been wondering all week.
Just dying for an update on the fingerprint saga.
Because what else could you possibly have on your mind?
Other than worrying about my life?

So.
I, once again, put it off for a bit.
I'm phenomenal at doing that.
But I had great reasons.
Kinda'.

Monday, Ryan was off.
With the kiddos in school all day now,
we had a whole day to ourselves.
It was lovely.
I couldn't ruin that day with fingerprint taking.

Tuesday, no idea why I didn't go in.
I can't remember why.
I'm sure I was busy doing something important.
The kids were out of clean undies or something.

Wednesday morning,
I decided to follow Mr. Master Controller's directions.
I called.

Mr. MC: Detention Center.
Me: When would be a good time
       to come in to get my fingerprints done?
Mr. MC: Well...hmm...
              (big suck in of air
              and mumbling of something incoherent)
              If you could come in the next 20 minutes
              we could probably get you in.
              Otherwise the rest of the day is pretty hit and miss.
Me: I can be there in 10 minutes.
Mr. MC (actually sounding somewhat pleasant): Ok. Come on in.

Knowing I'm not looking near as put together today,
I ran to my bedroom to at least change out of my slippers,
threw my hair in to a pony
and off I went.
Naturally, I got caught by a train.
Fortunately, it wasn't one of those pokey ones.
Thank you, Mr. Engineer.

After a short wait,
a female officer takes me back.
Into the jail, I guess.
There's a whole lot of metal doors.
That are kind of that mint green/gray color.
And lots of glass windows.
And men walking around in orange jump suits.
Hello.
(Could have warned me about that one, Beth.)
I tried to avoid making eye contact.
And pretended like they weren't staring.
Shiver.

I'm so silly.
I was thinking I'd come out with black ink on my fingers.
Ummm, Gina.
You do know you're living in the 21st century, right?
It's a little thing called technology.
That, turns out, really isn't all it's cracked up to be.
Considering the system didn't like me.
And they had to scan ALL of my fingers 3 times.
As the guys in the orange jumpsuits continued to stare.
Fun.

Then, to top it off,
I had to pay $15 dollars for this service.
Should have known...

In honor of all the fun I've had,
I took a mugshot of myself.
Ha!

Now I am a pro at this detention center stuff.
But here's to hoping I never have to draw on my expertise again.

Attempt #2

I did not want to go back to the detention center today.
Especially after this comment to yesterday's post:

And, just for the record, at least when I had to do it -- they HATE doing them for regular, law-abiding citizens like us. And, although the state says to give your mail to them to put in the mail for you, they refuse to do it. I found them to be really hostile about the whole thing. I'll look forward to seeing how it goes for you!!

Thank you, Ms. Beth.

You gave me such confidence.

Ha!

I dressed even cuter today.

Just saying...

Put on a new jacket.

An adorable white one with a ruffles on the back.

Cuz you know, new clothes make you feel better about yourself.

Sassy, even.

I knew just where to go today.

Didn't run any yellow/red lights.

Wore my seatbelt the entire drive there.

Found a great parking spot.

And confidently walked into the building.

Through the metal detector.

And up to the window.

Mr. Master Controller: Can I help you?

Me: I need my fingerprints for a background check.

Mr. MC: Oh, we can't possibly do it before 1:00 today.

               You might even want to call before you come.

Are. You. Kidding me? (again)

How difficult can this be?

Of course, I called my hubby.

To tell him all about it.

I was in a store. 

He said: Just shop lift something.

              Then I bet they'll have time to get your fingerprints.

I was joking yesterday when I said

It would be easier to get arrested.

I'm thinking it's not really a joke anymore.

Maybe I'll Just Get Myself Arrested

I'm working on getting my substitute teacher license.
Fun stuff.
I have to get my fingerprints taken.
(Is that how you say that?)

I had to request a fingerprint card
from the Kansas Department of Education.
It came in a big envelope with the instructions
that I go to my local police department
to get my fingerprints.

I got the card in the mail on Monday.
And put off going until this morning.
There's no reason for me to be nervous.
Fingerprinting doesn't hurt.
I'm not a felon.
I've been pretty much a squeaky clean person
as far as the law goes.

I dressed carefully.
So I looked nice and proper.
And headed out.

I ran a couple errands first.
Post office for stamps to send the crazy card back.
Then the library.
(To drop off over due books...again)
I ran a yellow/red light on the way to the library.
And wondered to myself
if I needed to report that to the officer
who would be fingerprinting me soon.

The police station is cater-cornered from the library.
(Totally had to look that word up.
Pretty sure I've never spelled it out before.
Interesting.)
Parked in front of the library.
Dropped off my books.
Hopped back in the car.
(No idea why I didn't just park at one and walk to the other.)
Did not put my seat belt on.
And wondered if I should report myself for that also.
Turned the corner.
Pulled in to a spot in front of the police station.
Looked up saw a sign that said: Police Vehicles Only.
Wondered if I should report myself for that also.
Pulled back out and around to a legal parking spot.
Went into the police station.
Separated from the receptionist by a glass window.
And one of those little speaker things.

Her: Can I help you?
Me: Yah, I need to get my fingerprints for a background check.
Her: Oh, we don't do that here.
        You have to go to the Detention Center.
        The entrance is on the other side of the building
        a block over on 8th street.

Back in my car.
Pulled into the parking lot on that side of the building.
Noticed the sign: Restricted Parking, Authorized Vehicles Only.
Pulled back out of the parking lot.
Finally found a spot on the road.

Walked into the detention center.
A room with a whole bunch of chairs.
Some lockers.
All these brochures with titles like: Are You an Addict?
A door to the women's restroom.
A door to the men's restroom.
A door that led to an office.
With police vests and a messy desk in it.
But no person at the desk.
(That door was locked.
I know because I tried to open it.)
And a metal detector.
With a scary looking "window" on the other side of it.
Not really a window because you couldn't see through it.
But there was another of those speaker thingys.
There was also a sign that said: Master Controller.

Unsure what to do,
I went through the metal detector.
It made a loud noise.
And I heard a voice on the other side of the "window":
     Can I help you?
Shocked that I hadn't peed myself by this point, I say:
     I need to get my fingerprints for a background check.
Unknown voice: Thursday is the only day we don't do prints.

Are. You. Kidding me?
I have to do this all again tomorrow.

It just came to me,
I'm wondering if Mr. Master Controller
could see me the whole time I was wondering around in that room.
Like a two-way mirror thing.
Yah...
I bet they are still laughing at me.

Maybe I'll just get myself arrested tomorrow.
Pretty sure it would be easier.

Summer

So much time has gone by that I hardly know where to begin.

Nearly every day I say to myself:
I'm going to blog today.
Just one picture.
Just one sentence.

Then another day goes by.
And I've done nothing.
Well, actually... I've done tons.
Just no blogging.

So here's an attempt to catch-up on our summer.

There's been lots of sports.

There's been a good-bye.

Ezra's best friend.

Whose mom is one of my best friends.

There's been a visit from Lara.

And her brother.

And her best friend.

There's been a wedding.

With a gorgeous venue.

A gorgeous bride (my cousin).

And an adorable, but petrified, little boy.

There's been a vacation.

With maybe some teenage drama.

Maybe some irritated parents.

Maybe some whiny kids.

Maybe a lot of sweat.

But, in the end, a whole lot of fun.

There's been time on the farm.

Grandpa bought Jake work boots.

And he now drives a tractor.

How did that happen?

There's been a new baby cousin.

Zeeke Nevada.

Just born yesterday.
Jake refused to hold him.
So did Jobe.

There's been scraping and painting.

We finally gave up.

And hired some help.

I'm loving the new look!

I'll show you the finished product soon.

There's been imitating a giraffe.

And.

Apparently.

There's been plenty of holding our wee-wee.

In public places.

At the zoo.

At the Alamo.

Nice.

At least he appears to be embarrassed by it.

And at least he didn't do it at the wedding.

Ha!

So, there's our summer.

Kinda'.

I'm exhausted.

And we still have school supplies to buy.

Which is more exhausting than anything else we've done.

Bleh!

Not looking forward to school this year.

One week from today.

My baby starts school.

There will be weeping.