Category Archives: nostalgia

Fun Little Meme

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A couple weeks ago Cheryl at Life with Cheryl tagged me for this fun little meme. Apparently I had a two-week senior moment because I totally forgot about it until last night. So without further ado, here we go…

Ten years ago I was:

Loving life! Todd and I had been married ten years, Taylor was 6 and Katie was 4. What incredibly fun ages! Taylor was in 1st grade and Katie was in preschool along with several of my friends’ kids. Every Thursday we would take our kids to preschool and then meet at the cute little coffee shop around the corner. It got to where the people who worked there knew what we were going to order. Good times. In fact, some of the best times. (Wouldn’t you agree Rhonda, Beth, Shelly, Kim — who am I missing??)

Five things on today’s To Do List:

1. Laundry. (Just like Cheryl said, why is this ALWAYS on my daily list?)

2. Dust the first floor, not to be confused with the basement which is really the first floor.

3. Vacuum the first floor (see #2 for clarification) and the stairs.

4. Sweep and mop the kitchen.

5. Work on the CLEAR website.

A snack I enjoy:

Peanut M&Ms.

Things I would do if I were a millionaire:

* Give more to church
* Support my beloved charities more
* Support other charities I like but can’t afford to right now
* Decorate my house exactly the way I want to
* Do a little remodeling to the house
* Travel a LOT

Places I have lived:

* SE Pennsylvania
* Central Arkansas
* Las Cruces, New Mexico
* Torrance, California

- That’s the West, the Southwest, The South and the East. While I’d love to hit every region, I think I’d rather just stay put now.

Now who should I tag? I’m going to say everybody because I’d love to know these things about all of you! So if you do this meme please let me know.

AVMDIJ & "More"

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THIS JUST IN

Stop the presses!! Have I got a news breaking headline!! And this isn’t even part of today’s post!!

A few weeks ago I told you Katie had tried out for the Youth Band at church and had made it. She wasn’t supposed to start singing for another month or so, but she just got a call from the Student Worship Leader, Alex, who asked if she could sing tonight. TONIGHT PEOPLE!! She hasn’t practiced – heck, we just went online to see what songs they’re singing tonight – but she’s up for the challenge. Taylor is practicing with her in the basement while this goes to press.

So guess what I’m doing tonight? Instead of just hanging out with Todd while the kids are at Youth Group, I’m video taping her debut. If I get her permission and I figure out what I’m doing (I’ll be checking with Sing 4 Joy) I’ll put it on YouTube or GodTube and post it later in the week. I know she’s more than capable, but since this is her first time and it was a last minute thing it may not be up to her standards. I’ll let her make the call.

THE REAL POST

How priceless is your unfailing love! Both high and low among men find refuge in the shadow of your wings.
Psalm 36:7

Today the worship team sang this song during communion. This song holds such a special place in my heart because when Katie was about 9 or 10 we were chatting in the car and I told her I loved her. Instead of the usual, “I love you, too”, or even more common, “I know,” she started singing the chorus of More by Matthew West to me.

I love you more than the sun and the stars that I taught how to shine, you are mine, and you shine for me, too.
I love you yesterday and today and tomorrow. I’ll say it again and again. I love you more.

Can a mother’s heart get any fuller without completely exploding? Comparing a mother’s love for her child to God’s love for us is a common theme among parents. But what about a child’s love for a parent? I remember thinking I loved my mom and dad more than they loved me when I was young. It’s as deep and intense as it gets when you’re a kid.

So if my child loves me that much (we always have these arguments over who loves the other more) how much more does God love me? I don’t believe we have an adequate scale to comprehend it. I just know it’s MORE.

A Bunch of Good Stuff

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So what’s up? Nothin’ much going on here. Just the usual. You know. Todd’s at work – he’s got major short timer’s disease, but he’s making a valiant effort; Katie’s babysitting; Taylor’s at CIY in Tennessee – kind of like church camp only much more intense. Katie’s Little Homies are going camping this afternoon through Saturday morning so Todd and I get some just us time. I think I’m going to make reservations at that new Italian restaurant we were going to eat at for our anniversary, but they were booked. Yeah. That’s a great idea.

***

We watched “Fools’ Gold” last night and LOVED IT! The chemistry between Kate Hudson and Matthew McConnohotty is nearly palpable. It had everything I love in a movie. Adventure, romance, humor, an exotic location and even a bit of history. Well, made up history, but still.

The prude that I am was a little disappointed at a flash of anonymous boobies. It’s PG-13, for cryin’ out loud. It was a quick flash, but so very unnecessary. It reminded me of when I was in 8th grade and my AT group went into Hollywood to see Romeo and Juliet at Grauman’s Chinese Theater. Really cool experience, but the boys in the group were thrilled when Olivia Hussey jumped out of bed, baring her chest. (But really, what do you expect with a name like Hussey?) The girls were just embarrassed. And a little envious. Or maybe that was just me.

***

OH! Have I told you we actually have a Sonic AND a real Starbucks with a drive through now? Maybe two miles from the house, if that. The only problem with the Sonic is it’s such a novelty up here that they have to have traffic managers with walkie talkies directing cars who are waiting for the next available slot. It’s totally insane. I mean, I love Sonic and all – you know I do – but it’s not THAT great.

Last Sunday after Youth Group a bunch of the older kids went to Sonic. They parked in the lot and walked over to order and eat at the picnic tables out front. You order in the same kind of speaker box as if you’d pulled up to a slot, but you give them your name so when they come out they know where the order goes. So here’s the conversation with the Sonic chick and my son:

SC: What’s your name?

T: Taylor.

SC: What is it?

T: Taylor.

SC: Tyler?

T: Taylor.

SC: What was that?

T: Billy.

SC: Billy?

T: Yup.

***

This is the top of the swimsuit I bought for Hawaii the other day. I consider it was a good day because I didn’t cry in the dressing room. Didn’t even feel the urge. I certainly don’t like the way I look in a swimsuit. Heck, I didn’t like it when I was 40 pounds lighter. But it is what it is so there’s no sense getting depressed about it. But what thrilled me was the fact it’s just a normal top and it just happens to hide both my mastectomy scar (my left mastectomy scar is pretty high up) and my port scar. I also got two different bottoms – red regular bottoms and a coral SwimMini.

***

This morning I found a great deal on plane reservations for my parents to come up for Thanksgiving. So I called Mom and we booked those babies before they went away. Mom and Dad actually get in on my 43rd birthday. I think we’ll celebrate with a chocolate cake and 29 candles. It’s just been the four of us for the last two Thanksgivings so we’re really looking forward to having some family to help us celebrate.

***

All this goodness leads me to today’s verse.

If you, then, though you are evil,
know how to give good gifts to your children,
how much more will your Father in heaven give
good gifts to those who ask him!

Matthew 7:11

My Week In Arkansas, Part Two

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I’m not sure what my deal is, but I’m having the hardest time getting the Arkansas trip written. In fact I’m having the hardest time getting anything written. Or done. I think I’ll blame the puppy.

When we last parted I was regaling you with my wallpaper faux pas. Let’s move past that, okay?

Friday, April 25:

After a stout cup of coffee and cereal, Shelli and I went back to work. She worked on the entryway while I continued to angrily rip gently pull the rest of the wallpaper from the kitchen wall. Mom and Dad went to pick Terri up at the airport and Rhonda showed up to see my mess handiwork. I think I’d finished the removal and had done a bit of Spackling and sanding, preparing the wall for the next step. But I didn’t have what I needed for the next step so Rhonda drove me to Lowe’s for primer. Used to be when I got in this predicament I would buy some drywall mud and mix it with the paint. That worked pretty good, but it made the wall almost too textured. This day, however, we found wall texture specifically made to mix with paint. So I bought that, a can of primer and voila!!

Terri was at the house when we returned from Lowes. She tried to convince me and Michele that she came to supervise, but two against one trumps the oldest. So Shelli worked on the hallway (the entryway was finished and looked great!), I set out to redeem myself and Terri started taping the eating area.

After I got the textured primer applied I began to relax. It looked pretty much like a regular wall so I knew most likely I was going to get to go home the following Tuesday. Which was a good thing because I was almost getting those little tiny twinges you get when you kinda, sorta miss someone.

Terri did trimming, I did trimming, Shelli did trimming, Terri did taping, I did painting, Shelli did painting, Terri did painting, I did taping, Shelli did more painting. We had four areas to paint and it was nice to have three of us always with something to do.

I wish I had taken notes while I was there like I’d meant to do, but the slave drivers my sisters cracked the whip so I wouldn’t have had time to write anything anyway. Since I know somebody will tell on me I’ll confess right now that I did take frequent Sudoku breaks. However, they were only to keep my brain sharp against the dulling effects of paint fumes. Anyway, since I didn’t keep a paint trip journal I’m a little sketchy on when we finished one project and started another, etc. Not to worry, though. I’m pretty sure Terri or Michele will be perfectly happy to fill in any gaps.

What I know for absolutely positive (because how could I forget) is we had a delicious roast with vegetables and salad for dinner that night. And what roast beast meal would be complete without following up with ice cream later? So the three of us hopped into the folks’ car and drove to Baskin Robbins. My sisters had to decide what flavor they wanted while all I wanted was Vanilla. “Boring”, you say? Quite the contrary!! Vanilla ice cream, melted chunky peanut butter and chocolate syrup. Now THAT’S delicioso!!

Once again we stayed up too late.

Saturday, April 26:

At the risk of being redundant, we trimmed. And taped. And painted. I believe this was the day we put the finishing touches on the dining area. My parents have cathedral ceilings in the living room and we had to do one side at a time. So I trimmed one of the “triangles” on Saturday.

We couldn’t get too into the painting because we had some major celebrating to do. We worked for a couple of few hours and then cleaned up so we could take our parents to dinner for their 55th anniversary. Yup. You read that right. Fifty-five years. We took them to the same restaurant the family went to five years earlier after their 50th anniversary party.

I was driving so instead of going straight home after dinner I took the scenic route past our old house. It’s still as cute as ever. *sigh* I miss my wide front porch. And the most beautiful redbud tree I’ve ever seen still grows in the front.

Comfy jammies, conversation and ice cream completes day four. I’ll try not to go so long before the final installment of the My Week in Arkansas chronicles.

More Nothing

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Today was my first day back at work since spring break and the kids’ first day back to school. To say this morning was crumby is an understatement! After more than a week of sleeping late to all of a sudden getting up at 6:30 – or 5:45 if you’re Taylor – was, in the infamous words of Jeff Spicoli, gnarly, dude.

****

My family is conspiring against me to get a dog. I don’t want a dog. Don’t get me wrong. I love dogs and have had several in my lifetime. They’re wearing me down, however, and I’m pretty sure we’ll be owning one soon. As long as I’m not the one getting up in the middle of the night with it or cleaning up the backyard is all I’m gonna say.

****

I’m reading the most excellent of books! It’s called Mistress of the Art of Death by Ariana Franklin. It’s a medieval (1172) mystery in the fashion of CSI – two of my favorite genres all mixed in together! Here’s the back blurb:


In Cambridge, four children have been murdered. Wrongly accused of the crimes, a small community of Jews threatened by Catholic mobs is given sanctuary by Henry II. To assist in proving their innocence, he summons an expert in the science of deduction and the art of death. She is Adelia, a prodigy from the Medical School of Salerno, and an anomaly in a medieval world, who is forced to concel her identity and her purpose from England’s grave superstitions and condemnation. One man willing to work with her is Sir Rowley Picot. His personal stake in the investigation makes him an invaluable ally – and in Adelia’s eyes, a suspect as well. From navigating Cambridge’s perilous river paths to penetrating the dark shadows of the Church, Adelia’s investigation will not only reveal the secrets of the dead, but in time, the far more dangerous ones buried by the living.

Now if I only had time to read more…

****

Tomorrow I go back for the tattoo touch ups and my first laser hair removal treatment. I’m so excited about never having to shave/Veet my underarms again.

****

Thursday is my thyroid biopsy. I’m seriously not concerned about the results. I’ve had these nodules and calcifications for at least 10 years. I AM, however, a little freaked out about the actual procedure. Todd is taking off work to go with me which means I’m getting a Venti White Chocolate Mocha out of the deal so I suppose it’s not so bad. Besides, Radioactive Girl gave me the scoop on what to expect so I know it’s not going to be as horrible as it sounds.

****

I’m listening to my iPod and 100 Years by Five for Fighting is on right now. If I listen to the lyrics it will make me cry. Not because they’re sad. They’re just, I don’t know… So very, very true.

I’m 15 for a moment
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I’m just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are

I’m 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we’re on fire
Making our way back from Mars

15 there’s still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there’s never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

I’m 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I’m a they
A kid on the way
A family on my mind

I’m 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I’m heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life

15 there’s still time for you
Time to buy, Time to lose yourself
Within a morning star

15 I’m all right with you
15, there’s never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

Half time goes by
Suddenly you’re wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We’re moving on…

I’m 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I’m just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are

15 there’s still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you’re on your way
Every day’s a new day…

15 there’s still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there’s never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

****

I’ve become addicted to Sudoku. I hate it, but I can’t stop myself. I have to do two or three puzzles every day and then I dream about it at night. The other night it was like a cross between Hollywood Squares and the beginning of the Brady Bunch with faces and numbers or numbers and faces or something. I don’t know, but it plagued my sleep all night long.

****

I slighted Ben in my telling of how the boys scared the girls last Thursday, but only because I didn’t have all the details when I wrote that post. Ben’s part was rather devious and I believe Jesus warned about people like him. He went down to the basement and told the girls he needed to use the computer for something. Then when Taylor was scratching and knocking on the basement windows and the girls were freaking out, Ben was their hero. First he told them it was only the wind, then he said he’d go check it out and when he came back he told them it was just the wind. Nothing to be scared about. So he got them a little worked up and then lulled them into a false sense of security, priming them for Taylor’s entrance. And he seems like such a nice boy, too.

****

The girls that spent the night were my little homies. Or K Squad Unit Fresh as Taylor calls them. We had been talking about the last days of Jesus’ life the previous two weeks so Thursday night we watched The Passion of the Christ only after getting the parents’ permission. A part of me was hoping either the parents would say no or the girls would change their minds. But no such luck. And it actually turned out to be a very good thing. Intense, but good. And after the movie was over they decided to watch Hairspray. lol

****

There’s a two-inch gash on my good coffee table in the living room. Not a scratch that I could maybe rub out, but an honest to goodness gash. I just wish I knew how it got there so I could make myself feel better by blaming someone. But no one has any idea how it got there. The hand-me-down coffee table in the family room is fine. The really cheap table is fine. The good coffee table? Not so much.

****

I’m terribly behind in my bloghopping. Now that I’m feeling better and things are getting back to our regular routine, maybe I can catch up. But right now I think I’ll go take a little nap…

ROAD TRIP!

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The kids and I took a quick trip to Arkansas this afternoon. Or at least it seemed like it.

I worked at the preschool until 3:00 this afternoon and then picked Taylor up from a school club meeting. We met up with Katie at home and then left around 4:00 for a three hour adventure.

Before we even walked out of the house, however, I traumatized my daughter. Again. Taylor had her upside down over his shoulder and this would be the conversation:

Me: Taylor! Put her down!

Katie: Yeah! Put me down!

Taylor: Teeheehee…

Me: I mean it! Put her down now! She’s going to scuff the door with her shoes!

Katie: What about me? All you care about is the door?

Taylor: (After putting Katie down) Mom only cares about the door! Tee hee!

Me: Giggle.

Katie: Huff!

We then jumped in the car, opened up the sun roof, plugged in Taylor’s iPod and headed for Morgantown with an ETA of 4:30. It was a beautiful drive through rolling hills and by old (and I do mean OLD) farms and historic houses. Taylor actually fell asleep in the back while Katie and I occasionally broke the companionable silence with a little chatter. It was lovely.

Just before 4:30 we arrived at our initial destination, the Morgantown Sonic. That’s right, folks! We drove 21 miles just to eat at a mediocre fast food dive for a little taste of home. And thoroughly enjoyed it. I was so excited I texted my friend, Beth, in Arkansas and sent her a picture of Katie eating cheese fries in the front seat of the car.

When all our vittles had been consumed we went to the Super Center Wal-Mart across the parking lot. Sonic and Wal-Mart in one trip? It doesn’t get more Arkansas than that! What a grand time we had perusing the aisles, trying on sunglasses, waxing nostalgic. So I texted Beth and sent her a picture of Taylor looking at posters.

Why, oh why didn’t I have my real camera with me?? The one difference between this Wal-Mart and every other Wal-Mart I’ve ever been in was the covered buggy parking at the side of the parking lot. Seriously!! But don’t you fret yourselves. I shall return with a real camera in hand because it was most definitely photo worthy.

After our grand tour of Wallyworld we drove through Dairy Queen to get the kids yummables for the trip back home. Katie ordered her usual – a Scooby Doo nose, better known as the Dairy Queen dilly bar. That’s what she called it when she was little. In fact, my parents took her to DQ when she was about 5 or 6 and she told them she wanted a Scooby Doo nose. So that’s what my dad ordered for her. The girl working the counter was one smart cookie because she figured out what Katie was talking about.

Finally, we headed for home. In one spot there was a beautiful white spire visible above a copse of trees so I took a detour to see it better. What a gorgeous old church it was. Again, curse my lack of camera! I pulled into the parking lot to turn around, but had to park so we could all dance to Every Time We Touch by Cascada. Oh. My. Gosh. It was hysterical! I’d never heard the dance tune before but somehow we all ended up doing the same “party boy” moves in perfect sync. Todd happened to call while we were all getting our groove on, but we were laughing so hard we had to hang up.

As we drove back to the main road we passed such an interesting old house. It was a two story stone house that looked normal straight on, but from the side you saw that it was only about 20 feet deep. So many things for me to get a picture of when I go back!

It was a great condensed version of a road trip and made us feel like we were back in Arkansas for just a little bit. It’s the simple things in life, you know.

The Perilous Lake Perris Portent

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AKA Lake Perris – The Misadventures of a Teenage Jenster

A couple of months ago while perusing my favorite blogs I made the mistake of mentioning to His Girl that I’d been to Lake Perris before and it was, in fact, where I had gotten into the worst trouble of my life (please don’t correct me if I’m wrong about that, Mom). Did you know you can’t just throw out a statement like that and expect people to forget?

Just so you know, there were no sex or drugs involved, though I do believe there was a substantial amount of rock ‘n’ roll. And those of you with no children may not see it as such a big deal. Those of you who are parents, however, will probably shake your head at my stupidity and mutter things like, “if my child did something like that she’d find herself in a high security boarding school until she was 30.”

So without further ado, here it is. The infamous Lake Perris story…

***

The church I grew up in was full of campers. My dad was the Wagon Master because: a) we did a lot of camping and he knew how the California State Parks worked; b) not only did his truck have a CB, it also had a PA system which he used for camping announcements; c) his daughter (me) had mad whistling skills and was able to get the attention of everyone in a ½ mile radius; or d) he was the only one who offered to do it. I’m not sure which. When I was 14 he chose a campout at Lake Perris, a man made lake in Riverside County.

Not only did my best friend, Cindy, come to church with me and even joined when I did, she also came on nearly all the church camping trips. She was tall and thin while I was short and not as thin. We had one thing in common, though. We were both flat as boards and not the kind of girls who inspired thoughts from older boys, lascivious or otherwise. Kathy, however, was 16 and built like the proverbial brick house. At 5′ or so, she was even shorter than I was, but she had solid curves in all the right places and the French bikini she wore the entire weekend looked exactly like it was supposed to.

Now Kathy only ever came to church or a church activity when she was in trouble for something, which means she was a fairly regular attendee. It seems to me this particular weekend her reason for being there came in the form of a stash of pot found in her locker at school, but it could have been anything. Because she was a bit of a rough girl, a lot of the kids would hardly give her the time of day. My mother – being high on the compassion scale – told Cindy and me to be nice to Kathy. So Saturday morning after breakfast we invited Kathy to come down to the beach with us. She seemed genuinely pleased to be included and came along.

After a while of tanning, talking and listening to that devil music (I have to blame something for my actions) we headed to the bait shop for sodas and a snack. Three guys around 17 or 18 came out of the bait shop and jumped into a ski boat. I don’t believe they even saw Cindy or me, but six eyes landed on the French bikini we were with. And by the way the French bikini started walking, she noticed them as well.

You can see where this is going, can’t you? I imagine some of you are sitting there, glued to the screen, nearly breathless with anticipation as to what will happen next. “No, Cindy and Jenster! Don’t do it! You’re good girls!” Actually, I can’t imagine that any of you are quite that riveted, but it’s fun to pretend.

The guys asked Kathy if she wanted to go for a ride in the boat. And this is where it gets a little foggy. If memory serves, she didn’t even consult Cindy or me and she just jumped in. As an afterthought we were invited to tag along.

For years after the “Great Lake Perris Debacle” Cindy and I argued vehemently over whose fault it was. Easily it was Kathy’s fault because she just hopped in the boat with these guys she didn’t know. But as far as our participation in the scandal – who pushed who? Now that I’m older I can see we were both probably right. I always argued that I tried to talk her out of it but she happily went along with Kathy and she always argued she was the voice of reason while I just blew her off.

I think we both were screaming on the inside, “Nooooooooooo,” but on the outside we didn’t want to appear foolish or uncool. Not only that, but I think we both felt a responsibility to Kathy and neither one of us could leave her to her joy ride alone. So much to my everlasting shame, Cindy and I went on the joy ride, too. I use the term “joy” loosely because I can tell you neither one of us enjoyed it. Kathy, on the other hand, was having the time of her life.

I have no idea how long we were out on the lake other than it was too long. We finally pulled up to the dock and I know Cindy and I were greatly relieved. Though I do have to say for the record, the guys were actually very nice and never did or said anything inappropriate. But I hear axe murderers look suspiciously like nice guys.

When we got out of the boat all I could think of was getting back to the campground. The boys were locals and offered to drive us up to the campground in the back of their truck. Fine, fine, whatever. Just get me back to my people! OH! And drop us off at the entry. I don’t want anyone seeing us with you! As we walked to the truck I heard my name. I barely recognized the voice as that of my father’s. Can you say “busted”?

Up until that time I had never been afraid of my daddy. Since that time I’ve never been afraid of my daddy. In that moment — I was a little afraid of my daddy. He had this glazed, crazy look in his eyes I’d never seen. I had received a few spankings in my life and I deserved all three. If ever a spanking was called for it was that day, but I didn’t get one.


** And for the record, being spanked DID NOT MAKE ME VIOLENT. I’m a lover, not a fighter. Except that I do kick Taylor in the shins sometimes or pinch the tender underside of his arm to get his attention. But that’s another post. **


I quickly changed directions and walked toward my dad and the other people that were with him. I was in trouble and I was humiliated in front of half my church. It’s all a bit of a blur now, but I remember walking back to the campground with several people. You know in the historical-type movies when the villagers chase the outcast out of town? That was sort of how I felt. But instead of being chased out of town Cindy and I were being chased back to our camp site.

Apparently the entire group was out looking for us. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the park rangers were looking for us as well. One of them even asked if we could be out on the lake. “Oh, no,” said my mom. “Jennifer would never get into a boat with complete strangers.” Yeah, I would have thought the same thing.

The worst part of all of it, though, was when Cindy and I were sitting in the back of the truck (with a shell on top, a couch that made into a bed, a built in cassette system, carpeted and with curtains – our little camping oasis). My mom was telling us how worried they had all been and how disappointed she was in our behavior. I remember thinking, “Oh, please! Just beat me now! It would be so much easier to take than this guilt!”

It was bad enough that Cindy and I did something so stupid. But to do something so stupid in front of half the church was horrible. And it wasn’t just my parents who were worried. Oy! I’m embarrassed just thinking about it and it happened ten years ago. Or twenty. Or nearly thirty. Whatever!

I have had a little experience as a parent with the anger that turns into worry that turns into relief that morphs into righteous indignation, but not on this scale. If I think about it too much I am surprised at the mercy that was shown to me when I really didn’t deserve it.

Oh, I was punished. Grounded, maybe? I don’t remember. I try to block unpleasantness from my conscience. Part of my “ignorance is bliss” theme. But a lesson was learned by all that weekend. Cindy and I learned that we really needed to stand up for ourselves. The church learned that “Little Jenni” wasn’t nearly as good as they thought. My parents learned their youngest was more adventuresome than their two oldest. And Kathy learned that wearing a French Bikini could open doors. Or something.

Busy, Busy, Busy

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I’m going to be very busy this weekend doing nothing. Seriously. I have the pleasure of a ton of alone time and I’m going to fill that time with flicks of the chick variety, books and computer. Coffee will be flowing freely and I may even throw in some Vermonty Python ice cream for good measure. I’m not going to go totally crazy with the eating, though.

I’m picking the kids up from school and taking them directly to church where they will get on a big bus and head to Harrisburg for PCTC – Pennsylvania Christian Teen Convention. They went last year and it was an awesome experience for all the teens.

My only glitch in the whole Weekend-To-Myself plan is another stinkin’ cold. It’s not a terrible cold. Mostly a full head – scratchy throat, plugged up ears, postnasal congestion. That sort of thing. But it made me miss Home Team this morning and I’m not happy about that! I drove the kids to the bus stop because it was about 12 degrees outside with a decent windchill and when I went upstairs around 7:20 to start getting ready I decided to lay down for a few minutes since I had plenty of time. The next thing I knew it was 9:10. Home Team starts at 9:00. Then I rolled over with the intention of getting up and making it for at least half of bible study and the next thing I knew it was 10:00. So I gave up. But I feel the loss of connecting with my Homies.

Oh wait. There may be another glitch. We’re supposed to get some snow and possibly ice tonight which means I’ll have to shovel the drive way tomorrow since my snow blowers will be in other parts of the country. That will cut into my indulgent plans and I’m not thrilled about that. But oh well.

But I am looking forward to having the remote control all to myself. I’m looking forward to catching up with all my blog buddies without hearing someone say “You spend more time with people you don’t even know than you do with us.” (I’ve never actually heard anyone say that, but there’s always the risk.) I don’t have to prepare any meals, do any laundry, be nice to anyone… I’m excited.

Both the kids asked me if I was really happy they were going away. Geesh. They make it sound so horrible when they put it that way. I told them I was thoroughly looking forward to some time alone, but that by Sunday I would be so happy to have them back. Hopefully I didn’t damage them any more than I already have. Driving Taylor to the bus stop in my pink robe and then cuffing him upside the head for messing with the buttons in the car in front of some of the neighborhood girls did enough of that.

And trying to pretend our life is a musical after watching Dream Girls and singing our conversation with a little dance move thrown in here and there seems to really bother him. Not Katie, though. She just plays along. OH! That reminds me of when she was very young – probably around four or five, maybe a little older. I would tell her to go clean her room and then spy on her from around the corner. She would walk around the room very dramatically, singing, “My mother told me to clean my room, but I don’t want to-o-o-o-o-o-o. Why must I do these things she asks of me-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e?” It was hysterical! I so wish I would have gotten that on tape. She was starring in her own little version of Katierella or something. So funny!

Back to all of my family being gone. I suppose I could have lied to them and tell them how sad I was going to be, how miserable my lonely weekend would be, how I would probably spend most of the time crying, blah, blah, blah. But they would have caught on pretty quickly and lying is just wrong.

Lucky Todd gets to see his new niece and nephew – The Pretty Princess and Tank. Or Olivia and Nicholas. I’m very jealous. VERY JEALOUS! They are so cute! We’re going to California for Christmas (in Palm Springs) and I’ll get to see them then. But this very weekend — nay, this very day he’ll get to hold them and squeeze them and munch on them… Jealous I am. (I talk like that because I’m part hobbit. Remember?) My mother-in-law cracks me up because she’s so worried my children will think she doesn’t love them any more now that she has two new grandchildren. How wrong she is, but I can’t figure out how to convince her of that.

Ooo! Look at the time!! It’s almost time to pick up the kids!!

Ciao!!