e.a.r.l.y.

It is a bit early for this ginormously huge pregnant lady to be up.

I’ve been up since 5 because Jesse woke up crying. I just told him to stop and he did but for some reason I cannot go back to sleep.

So, I guess that makes me up.

Today is Valentine’s day. St. Valentine was executed on Feb. 14th for performing marriages in Rome when they were forbidden.
Or something like that.
A pope declared Feb.14th as Valentine’s day sometime in the 400s, I think.
There is more to the story… But I don’t know it all. And I simply don’t care to type it out on my phone anyway.

You’re familiar with Google, right?

Anyway, today is also our new baby’s due date. Which has nothing to do with saints or popes.
Ryan has an event today that he’s not really excited about so he told me that I should have the baby before then. But I just don’t see that happening.

Maybe tomorrow?

Tomorrow is Ryan’s birthday. And my grandma’s birthday. It would be a neat day to have a baby.

We went to Lowe’s and Walmart yesterday looking for a belt for my vacuum cleaner. We didn’t find a belt. Or labor. But I did find some very large ankles. I’ve never swelled so much.

Have you any idea what its like for a 9 months pregnant lady to not have a working vacuum cleaner? We had to order the belt and it won’t be here for like a week or something.

Torture!

But at least I found out what was wrong with my new netbook. Which had nothing to do with vacuum belts and everything to do with me.
Who knew you had to be at least 10% smarter than the equipment you’re operating?
So that’s a relief. I really like the little thing and no way did I want to take it back.
User error repaired.
Netbook works like a champ.

Sometimes it’s the little things.

[smile]

So, happy St. Valentine’s Day to you! Celebrate with your honey and be glad nobody had to die in order for you to be married. That is, if you’re married.

And happy due date to me! I can’t believe I’m almost done!

[bigger smile!]

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some truths are hard to swallow

I couldn’t remember if it was embarass or embarrass. I’m a slow speller lately.

Gabe was sitting beside me watching as I tapped out a post because it had to do with him. He found what I was writing to be quite funny.
When I said outloud that I thought my spelling of embarrass could be wrong the ten year old looked at me funny.

As I so frequently do, I clicked my convenient little spell checker button and found that not only had I spelled embarrass wrong, but two other words also needed correcting.

Mom! You spell words wrong sometimes?

Of course. What, do you think I had memorized the entire dictionary or something?

His reply had a ring of disappointment in it. He shrugged and said, I just thought you had.

And so starts the growing pains that come with the discovery that sometimes your parents use that spell check button.

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anybody got a light? and some gasoline?

Aren’t some things in life tricky? They sound good and even taste good but then afterwards you realize that, in fact, it was not as good as you thought?

Like when you come to realize that your favorite breakfast cereal really isn’t a part of a complete breakfast?

And that eating it at 10pm is maybe not the best decision you’ve ever made?

And the only thing you can think will make you feel better is to set fire to every last piece of Berry Colossal Crunch left in the house?

I’m sure you’re right with me here.

I’ve been there and done this a few times lately. If only I would have burned that cereal up the first time…

Why is it we often have to make a mistake 72 times before we learn something from our previous experiences? Why are we so dense sometimes?

I say to myself, Self, you won’t feel ill this time. Just go ahead and have a bowl of sugary goodness. It’ll make you happy. Just do it.

And that all too familiar stupid feeling follows not long after.

And that’s when I say to myself, Self…You….Are…. stupid, stupid, stupid… while hitting myself in the head, adding a headache to my already nauseated misery.

Maybe a better idea would be to replace the cereal with a banana?

Instead of a Pop Tart?
Yeah, I’m a bit of a slow learner.

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the truth about dogs

We have an 80 dog-year old dog. He’s graying, his eye sight is weakening, he’s ornery, and, although I refuse to admit it, it would appear that he’s just about as deaf as my kids when I’m telling them the proper way to rinse off a dish before It goes in the dishwasher and you can’t block the spinny thingy. Just don’t do it!

Nobody warns you about old pets. There’s not a chapter outlining what old pets are really like in the I just got a new puppy book.

They lose vision. They lose hearing. They lose sanity. They lose control of their bodily functions. And there is no home on the corner to stick them in where people are paid to pet them all day. Not that I would ever use a home like that.
I’m just sayin’.

Elderly dogs are all over the place. It’s why there are companies who manufacture adult diapers for dogs.

Maybe it wouldn’t even matter if we had a thorough knowledge of what adopting a dog really entails because in that single moment we consider a new cuddly pup for our family it seems our minds stop processing in a rational way.

I’ve experienced this phenomenon personally. It’s like I can see the whole thing happen to me before my own eyes kinda like Scrooge and his ghosts and I try to holler, Self!!! Don’t let it lick you! But I’m too late, the pup has done it’s damage. My brain short circuits on a sort of puppy drool overload and all previous rational thought goes right out the window.

I suddenly find myself wiping pee from under the dinner table and good grief what is that smell?
And just like that I have a puppy.

Time, and actually watching our dog become geriatric has taught me a good lesson. And I’m here to share it with you.

Dogs eventually get old.

I’m not saying that having a dog is a bad idea. They can add a quality to your life that I can’t describe because I don’t really get it.  Plus, I’ve been licked by a puppy and that drug simply does not leave your system easily. I’m just saying that there’s more headache to keeping a dog than maybe having to get a new couch.

Thankfully big dog is still making it outside before he ‘goes’, though he is definitely having to see a dog about a bone more often.
And though he’s a bit more testy than he used to be, he’s still unbelievably patient in a grumpy grandpa sort of way.

It’s just that I’m seeing another season of pet ownership on the horizon. It’s the get-up-at-2am-cause-he-just-can’t-hold-it season and I prefer Spring.

And I’m just not looking forward to that. It’s irritating enough when my 3 year old does that and he’s still in that adorable cheruby-toddler stage.

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Mighty morphing power blogger

If you haven’t noticed, this blog has changed quite a bit over the last 6 months or so.  Or maybe over the last year.

Or maybe it’s just a constant morph and will never decide what it actually wants to be.

I started this blog as a business blog.  Cause one time I had an online business.  That didn’t work out the way I wanted it to.  Let’s just say that I was bad at running a business.

Really bad.
Awful.

And 3 years later I’m still paying off my Bank Of America business credit card to prove it.
Just a side note: if a bank promises that their platinum business credit card will help your sales be more profitable, your business to be more successful, and your hair to be more luxurious…
Turn and run away. Fast. It’s a trick.

So, no more business blog.

But I kept blogging.  And my new direction was a much more bold undertaking. I simply decided I knew everything and I was going to blog about it.  My ways were the right ways and I was going to teach the world how to be.

[Ahem]

I guess I had some pride issues.

And I have to admit that knowing everything was fun for a while.  But then one day I changed my mind about a few things I had been sure were exactly right and realized that maybe I was not as right as I thought I was.  I went back and read some old posts of mine and was thoroughly embarassed by the attitude that came across in my self righteous words.  An attitude I never realized I had until it started to melt away.

God is always working on me.

I still have a lot to say.  It’s in my personality to be opinionated and I have strong feelings about boys wearing silly bands.

But I’ve decided that I’m no longer going to blog to keep readers, or to validate my own beliefs, or to teach the world which way is up.  Now I’m blogging simply cause I want to.

So that my kids have a history to go back and read.

So that their spouses have many pictures and stories to pick on them about.

So that when I’ve had it UPTOHERE I can remind myself that that’ll make a good blog post and put life back into it’s regularly scheduled humorous perspective.

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When your house turns on you

Our house smells like a campfire.  Joe(12) thinks this is very awesome.  I think I smell like I’ve been camping way too long.

I have that constant feeling that I need a shower.  And some roasted marshmallows.

So, Ryan emailed the landlord about it.  I thought he should just ask for a bag of marshmallows.  He thought it’d be a better idea to see about getting the chimney swept.  Something about a fire hazard or something…

He explained in the email that we’d used the fireplace a handful of times and the house smells like a campfire.  Ryan asked when the chimney was swept last because that was most likely the issue.

The landlord sent somebody out to make sure we had the flue open.

Because, you know, lots of people have dumb and it could be leaking onto us.
Well, we did go to Walmart a few times in the last month.  I didn’t disinfect my cart so I guess it’s possible.

I’m glad the guy decided that we do, indeed, probably need our chimney swept.  And I certainly don’t blame the landlord for sending somebody out to check before she put that call in.  You know, with dumb sweeping the nation like it is.

They’re also going to take care of our little attic dwellers.  The carpenter ants and the silver fish. 

I’ve lost count on how many times they’ve had to send somebody to our house to fix something we had nothing to do with. 

And we’ve only lived here for 3 1/2 months.

I’m actually beginning to think that this house does, in fact, have something personal against my family.

And it’s starting to hurt my feelings a little bit.

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This stomach bug has been squashed. Er… Almost.

I thought we were done being sick as of Monday night.  All the kids have been there and back again – except Kait, who’s just felt slightly unwell.  I was relieved about its end, made all the kids take hot showers to clean off any residual yick, and started making them do their normal chores again.
No more stomach flu makes for a delightful day.

Then Ryan came home from work. 

Today it was 82 degrees.  I heart 82 degrees.
But it did get quite stuffy in the house as evening fell.  To keep Ryan as comfortable as possible while he wrestles this bug I turned on the air conditioner – which feels wrong being we have a freeze warning for tonight.  But right being I have a sick husband.

I’m really hoping that this is it for us – that Ryan is the last of it all.  But I haven’t been sick yet, though I’ve been exceptionally tired.  I’m trying to be optimistic, telling myself that my exhaustion lately has just been my body fighting this bug and I’m not going to get it in its fullness. 

Optimism doesn’t come all that natural for me.  I’m your typical good natured pessimist.  But I’m desperate here.  I’ve got to think positive or else I’ll make myself sick by thinking about being sick.

Just writing about it is making my tummy turn a little. 
But I’m sure it’s all in my head. It just has to be.

I’d better stop typing about this.

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Gabe gets magical.

Like I said before, we’re visiting friends right now for the Thanksgiving weekend. It’s really awesome, but Jesse has been uncomfortable sleeping here for some odd reason and was up quite a bit on Wednesday night. However, he didn’t wake up at all last night. That was very good.

However.

Gabe did wake up last night.  A lot. It’s unusual for the average ten year old to wake up so often in the middle of the night.
Unless they’re sick.

Apparently vomiting Thanksgiving everywhere was the order of the night. And, while he made it to the bathroom, he didn’t always make it to toilet.

Usually I’m the easier one to wake up but last night my husband was the first one on the scene – taking the clean up efforts into his own hands. That is fine. By. Me.

Except that my pregnant self had to pee.
Real bad.
But there was still a lot of throw up to clean so I had to wait patiently and was up anyway.

It was a lively 2:30am.

Jesse and Sam slept like babies people who sleep well. So they were well refreshed and bright eyed at 5:45am.

That was nice.

And early.

I have an overwhelming urge to either go shopping or take a nap. Or have my teeth pulled.
Anything to avoid dealing with more vomit.

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It’s been said a million times.

They grow up so. extremely. fast.
Just blink and you’ll miss it all.

Once upon a time not so long ago, there was a sweet little boy born.  He was little and squishy, with a moderate dusting of brown hair.

He was our third child, our second boy, and our first challenge.
We called him Gabriel. 

Gabe grew into an intense toddler.  He bit people when he was excited, which was often as he was always in go mode.  He was the destructor, unable to contain his energy.  He was an ADHD poster child. 

The key word in all those descriptive sentences is was.
Gabe would not stay in that stage very long, though my memories of those crazy days are quite fond and bring us much laughter.  While still intense, he has grown into a controlled mostly controlled, well mannered, silly, joyful, and big hearted young man.

But he never grew out of his squishiness.  To this day,  Gabe is a caregiver, a hugger, a lover.  He is remarkably sweet.
Though wrestling with his dad and brothers brings out the serious warrior in him, a man in the making, a future leader.

The boy is a culinary artist at heart.  Always wanting to create in the kitchen.  He has big plans of being the head chef in his own restaurant someday.
And owning a petting zoo.
And designing a kids’ kitchen where children can come learn how to cook and prepare meals to take home to their families.
He likes working with his hands.  Drawing, creating, cooking…

Today he turns 10.  He’s been waiting a long time to hit the double digits and he’s finally made it!

Gabe,
Thank you for being such a good boy.  Thank you for your giggles, for your silly jokes, for your squishiness, your hugs, your protective instincts, your intensity…
Thank you for being you.

Happy tenth birthday, Gabe!  Your family treasures you as the true, life changing gift from God that you are.

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Was there a party I missed?

After finishing up the bunk room I came out and saw this.

Keep in mind, we only have 9 people in our family.  And my cup was still sitting right where I left it on the coffee table.

So how…?

Nevermind.

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