What's a Buckskin?

Tharker asks, and I answer. A buckskin is a horse gold-colored horse with a black mane and tail, like the cartoon horse Spirit. This is an image I found on the Internet. I had a buckskin mare growing up. I was positively horse crazy as a girl, and I'm especially partial to this color.

Little Miss Mischief

So, I'm sitting here reading blogs and checking my email with Indiana Jones music playing in the background from the Wii. The boys are giving a play-by-play commentary at each level. I'm sure all you moms of boys understand the nature of that. Anyway, I look up and see this: Little JoJo emptied the misc. control/extra stereo wire/old CD's drawer while everyone else was playing. It wouldn't be so funny unless you could see the rest of the scene.
Oh, yeah. That's Dad lying right next to her reading a book. He looked up when he saw the camera flash.

Good News

It's too early to celebrate-- WAY too early to celebrate, but yesterday I got a phone call that had me actually shaking with excitement. It was from an agent in New York City that wants to read my manuscript. I'm editing like a mad woman so I can get it out this week. I'll just cross my fingers. Maybe I won't have to be a closet novelist for too many more years. It would be nice to join the ranks of actual published novelists. We'll see.

Four-Year-Old Ingenuity

Josie just passed the fourteen-month marker with no first steps. I see other babies half her size padding around at church, and I say to her, "You see, you could do that, too!" But alas, she's happy crawling or getting lugged around by one of us. Today Mazie took it upon herself to teach Josie to walk-- four-year-old style. She convinced Josie to hold onto the back of the dining chair.

Then she led her all around the room. Look at the trust and admiration in Josie's eyes. She loves her big sister so much.

Enough to be the guinea pig for Mazie's experiements.

Evenually, Josie decided that a stationary object was safer, so she grabbed onto a table and let the chair go, but at least we got her little legs moving for awhile.

For Amy

Amy left a comment about my clean oven, which had me snorting. Of course it always looks like that--- and I have a house in Tuscany, too! The oven is only two years old, and our house in on the market, so I did the self-cleaning thing, which stunk up the whole house, so I'm glad that it wasn't being shown anytime that week. However, I learned this dandy little oven cleaning trick for all of you moms out there.

Do you have a glass top stove? You know that special cleaner for your glass top that takes off all the grime. When your oven is cool, open the door and pour that cleaner on the inside of the glass door and scrub with a no-scratch sponge, just like you would the stovetop. It takes off all the little specks of grime and leaves it looking brand new. I was positively giddy over this trick. The self-cleaning cycle doesn't seem to clean the door.

Thanks for stopping by, Amy. Aren't you glad I wrote that Dear John letter? I'm glad you both don't hate me. :)

A Good First Day

Yesterday was the first day of school. My boys are growing up so fast. Here is my big third grader wearing his "dyed in the dirt" shirt from Zion.

Then there's my first grader in football attire. It was supposed to be 100 degrees yesterday, the hottest day so far this summer, so I made them both wear shorts. Believe me, they didn't mind at all.

And here they are returning triumphant after a good first day. I went out to watch them come home. I love catching that first glimpse of them three blocks away and knowing they're back safe and sound.





And, just because I couldn't resist, I had to post this photo of Josie. You've got to love French doors for just this reason! OINK!

Favorite Kitchen Hiding Places

Each of my children has found a favorite place in the kitchen where they would play, mostly against my will, but they were toddlers and had minds of their own. The funny thing is, we've lived in four different places when they were this age, so it's always a new adventure.

Dylan loved this corner cupboard that went back behind the sink. Once he got in there I actually had to crawl in to pull him out. This old house had so many cupboards that this huge one was empty. Of all the places we've lived, that was my favorite kitchen.

Ethan liked this nice big cupboard with the buckets in it. Naughty little boy opened the flour bucket and made a big mess.Mazie liked the corner turn-around in this apartment. She loved to make it spin, but her favorite past time was peeling all the labels off the canned food. More than one time at dinner we thought we'd have green beans and ended up with canned tomatoes or soup. Now Josie has found her favorite place. I moved all the glass jars and bottles out so she can't break anything, and she's had a ball pulling cans onto the floor and shaking the boxes of pasta. I tried to divert her to another cupboard-- one that contains pots and pans. She closed the door and went right back to this one. The girl knows what she wants.

"If I only had a brain..."

If anyone finds my brain, could you mail it back to me? Today has been one of those days. Church was a nightmare for reasons I don't feel at liberty to discuss, but suffice it to say that there was major drama in the Primary room, and we may well have driven a very nice couple into inactivity. So, I came home and made dinner. Chicken pot pie, doesn't it look wonderful? Except, here's the chicken that is supposed to be in it. Sing with me now, "If I only had a brain...."

A Basket Case

My husband's job is making me mental. I'm not joking. I am trapped in a cycle of ups and downs that is getting worse all the time. Let me explain why. Before I do, however, I should warn you. You'll seldom get a heartfelt emotional post from me, but this is one. Feel free to stop reading at any time.


Two years ago my husband was offered a job. He was unhappy where he was working and this looked like a great opportunity. It was a start-up company offering more pay and stock options. The only drawback-- it was away from home. Not sure about what would happen with this company, I plainly told Nathan, "I'm not moving." I regret that now.


At first he worked two and a half hours away. It was too far for a daily commute, so he stayed there during his work week. He works seven days on and seven days off. But, it wasn't too far, and his sister lives thirty miles from his job site, so when I got really lonely, I'd just drive down and visit his sister, let the kids play with the cousins and go stay with Nathan at night.


Then the company moved him to a site five hours away from me, a ten-hour round trip. He's been there almost eighteen months. Every week it gets harder to let him go. I cry for the entire first day that he's gone. I know that sounds stupid, but it's true. I get so depressed to see him walk out the door, I can hardly stand to get out of bed in the morning. So why don't we move? Our house has been on the market for six months and we have had no offers. We just dropped the price, but nothing has happened.

I had the blind faith that when we put the house on the market after so long apart, we would get a miracle and it would sell quickly even in this slow housing market. Well, guess what? No miracles. We decided we'd move anyway. We would pay a mortgage and rent, but we couldn't find anywhere in the small town where he works that was big enough for our family. It has felt like one stumbling block after another, which leads me to wonder if we should just stay. But, I don't know how I can take being away from him anymore. My lows are getting lower, and even when he's here, I'm stressed all the time because the clock is ticking until he's gone again.

In July, he took vacation time and had 21 days off. Suddenly the world felt right again. I loved waking up next to him every morning and dealing with all the kids' stuff together. When the vacation ended, it was crushing. It's even harder when he goes now. I simply cannot understand why the Lord won't open a way for us to be together. September 15th is two years he's had this job. He's missed a year of our kids' lives, a week here and a week there. That's unfair to them and it's unfair to him.

The bottom line is, we need him. I need him. Whatever it takes, we need to be a family again.

In Case You Haven't Heard

In case you haven't heard, the movie release date has been moved up from December 12 to November 21.

On this same note, the whole fanfare surrounding Robert Pattinson is cracking me up. When they stood him next to Daniel Radcliff in The Goblet of Fire, no one batted an eye at Cedric Diggory, but now that the same guy is dressed to play Edward, he's suddenly a HUGE heart throb. He's the same guy, people. Those amber eyes aren't real.

Sorry, just had to vent a little. I'm just not that into Edward (or Jacob). I'm perfectly happy with my hot blooded, non-vampire husband, who, if you ask me, is better looking than both. :0)

So You Think You Can Dance

There seems to be a widespread addiction to "So You Think You Can Dance" and I thought I'd add my two cents worth. Sorry I don't have action footage, but I think you can get the idea from the pictures below. This is the cutest dancing goin' on in our house right now.

Cue music.....Boogie...
And a big smile for the audience!

So Much to Post, So Little Time

When my husband is around, I get so much less time to blog. So, here are basically three separate posts crammed into one.

First, my mother-in-law sent me a belated birthday present. It was this wonderful little embroidered pillow that says, "Scatter Joy." I'm not the only one who loved it!

Secondly, is anyone else getting peeved about the outrageously high cost of school pictures? Well, I decided to experiment with my new camera. (I simply cannot get over how much I love it.) Mazie had a wonderful time taking me all over the yard, posing for pictures, although her smile looks a little pained by the end. She made me make sure that I had the pink flower in the background of some of the pictures, and checked the images afterward to make sure it was there before she let me move on. I don't know. I'm thinking maybe we'll bunk school pictures and take every ones with this camera. They turn out nice and the will blow up perfectly. I do, however, need to get a genuine smile out if this girl someday.

Finally, after many years of discussing and needing and putting it off, we bought shelves for our food storage. We've mostly been storing it in Washington fruit lug boxes stacked along one wall of our basement. We had an old rickety shelf unit that came with the house (in the basement--i.e. NOT nice), and we finally threw it away. Ta-DA!!The biggest shocker? Nathan and I looked at each other and said, "Who knew we had so much food storage!?" In fact, I have to boycott canning this fall, so we can use what we have and rotate out. So this is why I don't have any empty jars lying around. Well, duh! I don't think we'll starve this winter. It's such a beautiful sight. I keep walking by and sighing in satisfaction.

Ode to the End of Summer

Okay, it's not really an ode. That implies poetry, and poet I am not. I'm lamenting the end of summer nonetheless. I realize that in other places August is the hottest month of the year, but here in the mountains, August feels like fall creeping in at your heels. The days are mild and breezy. The nights dip into the fifties. We wake to thick dew on the grass. Most of my flowers are already starting to brown. I keep thinking of the long, cold winter ahead-- the frigid temperatures and the relentless wind that makes otherwise moderate days unbearable. I wish I could make summer stay a little longer, but fall is here it seems.

School starts on Monday. The kids are excited for new teachers and reunions with friends. I'm excited to try my hand at preschool, since I didn't expect to be here and the preschool filled up in the meantime. Mazie and I have fun things planned, and I'm looking forward to that. I'm also looking forward to our regular routine-- especially regular bedtimes. Mom needs more sleep.

I've hardly written this summer, so I'm also looking forward to getting going on a new book. There's so much to look forward to, but I'm still sad to see summer go. I love walking or riding bikes everywhere we go. I love the smell of chlorine and suntan lotion. I love the Farmer's Market. These are the things I miss when the weather turns nasty.

New favorite dessert

We've long been fans of the American chocolate cake at Costco-- the one that has as many layers of frosting as cake-- but Friday my husband bought their new triple berry cheesecake, and it is dangerously delicious. Fair warning to you. Don't buy this unless you have company, or you may be tempted to eat the whole thing yourself!

Fruits of Summer

Break out the steamer.... chokecherries are here!!! Oh, how we love chokecherry jelly and syrup. For those of you who have never seen them on the bush, here they are. They grow along the side of the roads, particularly where there is water. (Much easier to find than huckleberries.) And, while huckleberries are wonderful, I absolutely love the flavor of chokecherry syrup. It was a big hit at our family reunion this summer, too.
So, I've steamed all we picked, but now I have to make about four batches of jelly. Just in time for school lunch packing-- peanut butter and chokecherry jelly sandwiches. Mmmm.

Olympic Boycott

Everyone keeps asking me if I've been watching the Olympics. My answer, "No." Then they stare at me wide-eyed and ask why. It isn't because I don't have television. I'm sure NBC is offering plenty of Olympic coverage online. It isn't because I don't love our American athletes. My objection, in a word: China.

We recently visited Salt Lake City. We hadn't been there since before the Olympics, and you can sure tell that the games left their mark-- the influx of cash, the beautiful new structures, plus so many more houses and a thriving economy. Why would we want to offer these things to a country that repeatedly proves they are so little concerned with their people?


We all know how China works, grinding the poor to support a corrupt regime. So, if the government invested millions of dollars into preparations for the games, on whose backs do you think that sacrifice came? Surely not those of the government themselves. Even if you ignore Darfur and Tibet for a moment, China, despite their best efforts to put on a flawless show, proves themselves again and again an enemy to freedom.


Need more examples? Okay, here are just a few. (While I haven't been watching the games, I have been reading the news.)


Joey Cheek, 2006 Olympic gold medalist was denied a visa to the games because he's an activist for Darfur.


China keeps trying to put on a flawless image, but they seep corruption at every turn. A Chinese state-media story from November states the age of Chinese gymnast He Kexin as 13, but now she has a government issued passport that says she's 16 (and therefore old enough to compete.)


7-year-old Yang Peiyi's beautiful voice was heard singing "Ode to the Motherland" during the opening ceremonies, but another girl was lip syncing it on stage because Yang wasn't PRETTY enough. (She has-- gasp-- crooked teeth. What a crime!)


Then there's the threat of a seven year prison sentence to the person who videotaped the "secret" rehearsals for the opening ceremonies. Are you kidding me? Seven years.


Tell me, did all the Soviet Union's gold metals at LA in 1984 make the Berlin Wall any more humane? Have we learned nothing? Somehow the world is turning a blind eye to everything that China stands for and is allow themselves to be wooed by their show.

I wish our athletes well, but as long as the games are in China, count me tuned out.

Trying to FLY

Okay, so I finally gave in after reading a great deal of Sink Reflections and yesterday I shined my sink-- and almost poisoned my son in the process.

At one time I signed up for the Flylady website, but I got like twenty emails a day from them, so I quit. I never actually got started on the program because I wanted an overview of how the whole thing worked before committed to doing it. That's why I bought the book. Because Kristin uses the system and I know it's working for her and we've discussed it, I basically knew the concepts, but I still got hung up on that first step. You want me to soak my sink for an hour? Why? I scrub it everyday after I do the dishes. It sounded insane, but I decided to try.

So, yesterday I filled the sink all the way to the top with very hot water and poured about a cup of bleach in each side. Then I left it to soak for an hour.

In the meantime, my real estate agent called and said she wanted to show my house on Wednesday. I said, "Great!" then looked around and about burst into tears. What a wreck, and I have to have it totally clean by Wednesday! I started frantically folding laundry and scrubbing showers and tossing junk into drawers. Suddenly I realized that it was past time for dinner, so I went downstairs and started cooking.

The boys came inside from playing, and I said, "By the way, stay away from the sink. It has bleach in it."

They replied, "What's bleach?"

"It's a chemical. It will ruin your clothes, and it's poisonous."

Dylan starts to cry. "I drank it! Am I going to die?"

"What!?!" I exclaim. "When? Couldn't you taste that something was wrong?"

He calmed down and explained that he dipped a glass in it, took a sip, swallowed some but spit the rest out. Still, he was worried and wanted me to take him to the doctor. I read the label, had him drink twelve ounces of water and fed him dinner. He wasn't showing any signs of being poisoned, but he kept bugging me to take him to the doctor. Finally, I relented and called poison control, who told me if he wasn't vomiting, he would be fine. The little burn in his throat was all the side affects he would have.

So, there's what I get for trying to have a shiny sink-- a phone call to poison control. And, I decided later that the mental boost I was supposed to get from shining my sink actually came later. When all the kids were in bed, I polished my dining room table. Every time I walk by it, I do a double take. So now I know. Skip the sink and polish the table! (With non-toxic furniture polish.)

Supermarket Meltdown

I'm posting this at the request of my sister-in-law. This was just a writing drill that I did for a contest (which I didn't win). I'll seldom post any of my fiction writing, but this isn't part of a greater work. It was just a stand-alone scene that I wrote to the prompt: Describe a situation in which a woman is forced to empty her purse.

This is one of only a few pieces of mine that Nathan has actually read. He raised an eyebrow and said, "Hits a little close to home, don't you think?"

"Well, of course, honey. That's why it's funny."

So, here it is for Esther. The Supermarket Meltdown:

We are going to be late. In my mind I see my son standing outside his elementary school telling the principal that Mom has somehow forgotten him. Everyone in the school’s office already looks at me with arched eyebrows and a judgmental set of the jaw. I’m pretty sure I’m the topic of critical gossip over coffee in the staff lounge.
My son is sitting in the cold two miles away, and the girl in the cart is wailing. She looks like her dad, and right now I’d like to sneak into another aisle and deny that I did, in fact, give birth to her. There’s another boy halfway up the aisle pulling boxes of cereal onto the floor. He does look like me—no chance of denying motherhood there.
“The Oooo!” the girl cries.
“I’ll find it,” I say. “Just be quiet, okay?”
She wails louder.
“Excuse me,” says a man over my shoulder.
“Yeah, sorry.” I scoot the cart out of the way so he can reach a box of granola bars. From my purse I empty a wad of receipts, a checkbook and two tampons into the cart next to the girl. I bite my tongue to stay a tide of profanity. I taste blood and remember my sister-in-law saying she read somewhere that multi-tasking can make you scatterbrained. “Isn’t that all motherhood is?” she’d mused.
By the time this child is in high school, she’ll be visiting me in an institution. “What put her over the edge?” people will ask.
“THE OOOO!”
“Put the cereal back!” I snap at the boy. Now I’m down to bobby pins, pink glitter Scrunchies, stray change, and a pen. “I can’t find it. We can find it in the car.”
“NO!” The screech is reaching hysteria.
I rip open another zipper, empty a few bills, credit cards and more random paper onto the seat of the cart. The girl grabs the credit cards and throws them over my head.
Blood or no blood, the words rush out, and they aren’t nearly as pretty as the girl’s hair, which I curled this morning. Frantically, I search the floor, gathering one card after another. How many was I carrying? Calling the boy over, I say, “Help me find the credit cards.”
He sticks a finger in his nose.
I find four cards, which I stuff into the pocket of my jeans along with the cash. I see a woman at the end of the aisle pause, watching our impromptu show. She has the same set of the jaw as the school secretary. She might be a completely wonderful person, but at the moment I hate her and her condescending face.
My fingers search frantically around the bottom of the purse as I move the cart out of the aisle. I don’t even remember what we came for, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the box of cereal or two bags of chips which are in the cart now. Milk. When all else fails, buy milk. I rush to the dairy section, still feeling around the bottom crevice of the purse. It’s there somewhere. It has to be!
Tossing a gallon of milk into the cart, I turn toward the front of the store. The boy is lagging behind. “C’mon!” I growl.
There are four people already in the express lane. I’m forced to bite that nasty tongue again. I steer in behind them and resume the search. “Here!” I exclaim, pulling the tiny pink shoe from the corner crevice of the fabric. “I found it!”
The girl’s expression brightens through salt-stained paths down her cheeks. “The oooo! Put it on!” She shoves a pocket princess doll in my face.
“Why don’t you go in front of me?” says the woman before us. “I’m not in any hurry.”
“Thank you.” School has now been out for six minutes. I slide around her and start tossing things on the conveyer belt. When I look up, princess in hand, I see salvation. Next to the boxes of gum, jerky and invisible tape is a ninety-nine cent tube of super glue. “Ring this up first,” I say to the cashier, then tear open the super glue. Under the watchful eyes of the girl in the cart, I turn the princess over and neatly line her feet with the clear miracle. Setting the shoes in place, I manage to smile. This princess is going to wear pink shoes forever.

Yikes!

The new school year totally snuck* up on me! I am completely unprepared. I have done zero clothes or shoes shopping, and the last time I was in Target, I saw that school supplies were on sale, so I randomly grabbed essentials, but I didn't have my kids' lists, so I missed about half of what they need. My only saving grace is that I recently bought my boys new church clothes, so I know what sizes will fit without trying anything on them. Luckily they each have a fairly new pair of basketball shoes to wear, because I really don't want to tote four kids to town for school shopping. Nathan will be home next weekend, but I was hoping to steal away with a friend and get some of the shopping done sans kids. The boys are adimant that they pick out their own shoes, so I'm fine with waiting another week. Maybe I'll send dad to town with them to shop for shoes. (With my luck they's skip the shoes and come home with Wii games, or worse, both!)

School starts August 25th! That's only fifteen days away!

* Grammar note from Webster's dictionary: "From it's earliest appearance in print in the late 19th century as a dialectal and probably uneducated form, the past and past participle snuck has risen to the status of standard and to approximate equality with sneaked. Indications are that it is continuing to grow in frequency. It is most common in the U.S. and Canada, but has also been spotted in British and Austrialian English." So, there you have it. Snuck is accepted as standard. You learn something new everyday.

Thirteen-Month Check-up

I'm posting this for my friend Allisa because she asked me how much Josie weighed. Allisa doesn't genetically grow monster babies with rolls like we do in our family. She has those petite ones that you can still carry when they're two (because they weight at two what mine weight at six months.) So, here you are, the latest stats on Josie:

Age: 13 months
Height: 31.25 inches
Weight: 23.5 lbs
Mode of transportation: Still crawling and movin' fast!
Favorite word: Ah-oh! (As she's throwing things on the floor.) She also waves and says, "Aye!"
Daytime naps: 2
Favorite food: Any meat, but she's particularly fond of hot dogs and sausage.
Number of teeth: 8 and she knows how to use them!


In an unrelated thought, have you noticed anything wrong with my blog list? With the exception of Tiffani and Tiffaney, no one else updates regularly. This is stressful for me. I want to know what they're doing, and (sigh) I have to resort to reading strangers' blogs instead. I guess not everyone is as addicted to their computer as I am!

Couples Survey

A stolen post from tif-do. (Just the questions, not the answers.)

1] What are your middle names? Anne and Alan (We planned to have all our kids have A middle names, but Dylan got Arthur and that left Alan for Ethan. Ethan Alan? No thanks. He got a B middle name instead.)

[2] How long have you been together? Since December 1993

[3] How long did you know each other before you started dating? Two years. (He’s my brother-in-law’s younger brother, and I wasn’t exactly old enough to get married when I met him.)

[4] Who asked whom out? I bribed Nathan to go country dancing with me. Totally bribed him. How’s that for romantic?

[5] How old are each of you? 34 and 37, but he looks younger than me, dang it.

[6] What are your astrological signs? I’m a Taurus, and he’s a Capricorn, which I didn’t know until I looked it up for this survey.

[7] When was your first kiss? Finals week in December 1993. He was supposed to be helping me study for a Spanish final. Didn’t get much studying done, but I passed anyway.

[8] Who's mother do you see the most? Pretty equal, since they live close to each other.

[9]Who's father? His

[10] Do you have any children together? Yep all 4 of them

[11] What about pets? We have four kids. Who needs a pet?

[12] Do you have a song? You can’t cram fourteen years of marriage into a single song. Certain songs remind me of eras in our marriage.

[13] Which bill is the hardest on you as a couple? No one in particular. I hate the whole process

[14] Who pays the bills? I do.

[15] Who drives and who sits shotgun? He always drives, because he thinks I drive too slow, and I hate him bugging me about how I drive.

[16] Did you go to the same school? No, but I taught at his alma mater with two teachers who taught him. That was kind of funny.

[17] Are you from the same hometown? No


[18] Do you live in the same town now? We don’t even live in the same STATE!

[19] Who is the smartest? I’m the book-smart girl; he’s the guy with all the common sense.

[20] Who is the most sensitive? Sensitive. Was that an option in a man? Oh, I guess I missed that one. Just kidding!


[21] Where do you eat out at most as a couple? When we lived in a city, we had favorite restaurants; now we usually eat somewhere different each time.

[22] Where do you shop the most as a couple? Target and Costco—if they don’t sell it, most likely we don’t have it!

[23] Where is the furthest you have traveled as a couple? We don’t travel as a couple. We travel as a family, and this last 1890 mile trip took the cake on that one!

[24] Who has the best group of friends? Me. Nathan is noncommittal when it comes to friends.


[25] Who has the craziest exes? Me, since I have like fifteen and Nathan has one—a doozy, but still, only one?

[26] Who has the worst temper? I’m the fly-off-the-handle tantrum that ends in five seconds. If he get’s mad, he can stay mad awhile.

[27] Who does the cooking? Me.


[28] Who is more social? Definitely me.

[29] Who is the neat-freak? Neither. Sort of a problem area there!

[30] Who is the most affectionate? Me.

[31] Who is the most stubborn? Him, but he would say I was.

[32] Who hogs the bed? Him.

[33] Who wakes up earlier? Him.

[34] Where was your first date? Country dancing in Moscow, ID

[35] Who said I Love You first? Probably me. He didn’t say he loved me until AFTER we were married. (That was sort of a big risk for me to marry him anyway, don’t you think?)

[36] Who has the bigger family? Him

[37] Do you give/get flowers often? No

[38] How do you spend the holidays? We travel home and generally go to both families.

[39] Do you have cute little names for each other? We’re a “honey” couple. Although he has some not-so-nice names that he jokingly calls me that absolutely astound the guys he works with. They’re all surprised I haven’t left him yet.

Winners!

Today I made, yes made, prizes. Here are my lovely assistants drawing the winners for my little contest. I let them each draw one name. Ethan drew... tharker.

Mazie drew.... aunt Krisitin.

Thanks to all of you who commented, and visited and pushed my counter over five hundred. That's so cool. I've only been blogging for a month and a half. (One of the perks of having a large extended family, I suppose. Plus, we are the far-away ones in the family.) I'm mailing prizes this week. Hope you like them!

Fabulous Five Hundred

Okay, look at the little pink counter to the side. That number is quickly approaching five hundred, and that makes me very happy! So, I decided to do a little give-away. Anyone who leaves a comment from now until we hit five hundred will be entered into a drawing. (I haven't decided what I'm giving away yet, but it will be fun.) If you're lurking and not commenting, leave me a line. If I don't have your snail mail address, I'll get it after I pick the winner. Every time you comment, you get an entry, so you can leave several for more chances to win!

Let's hear from you!

Need a topic? Okay, try this one. What is the most dreaded thing about school that you're happily living without this summer? I know mine-- packing lunches!

A Real Date

Last night my husband and I went on our first real date in about a year. It was so nice to have him to myself. What was even better was that he suggested it. We didn't want to travel, so we went to the only nice restaurant in town, which is very expensive but has amazing food. Nathan had a buffalo rib-eye steak, and I had a penne dish that was awesome. Much better than I ever get at Olive Garden or some other chain. When you figure that we didn't spend forty dollars driving to town and back, it was probably cheaper, too.

Afterward we went to a movie at our little theater here in town. There were only about ten people in the theater since it wasn't a kids' movie playing. We saw Get Smart. We'd seen the previews and thought it looked funny, but I wasn't sure. I even went on Yahoo! and read the user reviews to see if we should wait and see Hancock instead. I'm glad we didn't wait. Get Smart was laugh-out-loud funny. There were so many funny parts that when we got home, we couldn't even remember all the funny stuff because we'd laughed so much. I was also afraid it would be a lot of potty humor, but it was pretty mild. We still wouldn't let our kids watch it, because there was some swearing.

I was just so happy to have an evening with my husband. We were so close to home that I ran back to the house and put our left-overs in the frig before going to the movies. All the kids were doing well with the sitter. It was a great night.