A Christmas Love Story

I have been thinking this Christmas about a client of mine that is having a tough year. He has a wife who is in the later stages of Alzheimers. Thing is, he is still dearly in love with his wife and is still willing to do whatever it takes to keep her at home. He came to me to do planning for the possible need for nursing home care for his wife, but considers that to be a last resort. Every time he leaves the office with his wife, my secretary and myself are practically in tears. They are just so sweet and hold hands and, even though she is to the point of having really no meaningful understanding of her surroundings, her husband will always ask her if she has any questions about what I have been saying. He'll put his hand on her knee and lean in close and slowly and gently ask her, and then just hang on her every word. She usually just smiles and says, "no" but to look at him waiting for her answer, you can tell that he isn't just asking, he really cares. He always says, "She took care of me and the kids for all those years, I won't desert her and dump her in a nursing home!"

He reminisces about the old days when her mind was healthy and has the sweetest smile and his eyes just twinkle. These are the times that I don't mind having a client who wants to go on and on about matters that are not related to my work for them. Just seeing the love in this man's eyes when he talks about his wife, who now sits next to him oblivious to her surroundings, and hearing how much he appreciates her and would do anything for her, makes me want to go home and be the best wife and mom I can possibly be. Because I want my hubs, in 45 years, to have that same twinkle in his eyes talking about me.

What do Christmas and porn have in common?

Stay tuned to find out. My Grandma is a one-of-a-kind. Some might use the word "crazy" but I love her dearly. Gram and Gramps are respectively Agnostic and Atheist, so Christmas is just a time for visiting and there is no spiritual meaning at all (this is a very difficult issue I pray about a lot). So she calls Christmas morning at 8:30am and says, "we are leaving now and we are going to be at your house in half an hour, so be ready." My kids aren't even all up yet, and we haven't eaten breakfast, but Gram assures me there is no time to waste because they have dinner plans for 5:00pm. Nowhere else to go until 5, but when Gram gets something in her head, it's law. "We want to drop off gifts and get a picture in front of your tree and leave." The "Drive-by Christmas". So Gram comes in and right away wants to tell us about the funeral she was at for her ex-brother-in-law (Joe). She starts in about how Joe's son, Timmy, was giving the eulogy and she stops and says, "Timmy is sort of shy. He goes into hotels and puts in porno onto the tv's. He's not a social person." It was all I could do to not burst out laughing. "Merry Christmas and cousin Timmy likes porn!" Turns out he installs pay-per-views in hotel rooms. Presumably he installs a selection that includes more than "porno," but Gram seemed to hone in on the naughty aspect of his job rather well. She's like that. Go for the shock value. Fortunately, the kids didn't ask me to expound on what "porno" is. Whew. (Am I going to attract all sorts of Pervy Pervs from Google now with this post?) After they left, our 10-year-old daughter, "M", said, in the sweetest, hushed voice, "isn't Grandma kind of old to be so weird?" She meant it in the sweetest way. Honest.

This is the same Grandma that was asking me last Maundy Thursday what the meaning of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday was, and when I was finished, said, "That is interesting; someone should write a book explaining all that!" She was so. Totally. Serious.

A few months ago, I was having lunch with her and all the kids were with me. My 9-year-old son, "Zippy," was picking on his sister, so Gram took matters into her own Agnostic hands and said, "WHY DON'T YOU FOLLOW THE TEN COMMANDMENTS AND 'DO UNTO OTHERS AS YOU WOULD HAVE THEM DO UNTO YOU??!' " Zippy knows the Bible well (makes his Mama proud) and he was bursting at the seams to correct her, but he just winked at me and quit bothering his sister.

So, there, now you know that, in one very unfortunate house in the Midwest, on Christmas morning, an 85-year-old Grandma was discussing porno. Enough said.

Merry STINKIN' Christmas (and WFMW)

Literally. I got home from Christmas shopping last night and noticed a stink in the house. Turns out the toilets wouldn't flush (but the kids still had to poop). I told Hubby this morning he should have cut off all food and water from the kids when he discovered the problem (just kidding, just kidding)! Hubby removed the toilets from the floor, thinking something had been flushed and was stuck, but one wedged bar of soap, one 1/32nd scale John Deere Skidsteer and a golf ball later, they still wouldn't work. (Did I mention our 3 year old has a penchant for flushing large objects down the commode?) We had our septic tank pumped out recently, so we knew that wasn't the problem. But...turns out our "leech bed" (perhaps the grossest-sounding phrase related to my home) is not good. All I know aboput leech beds is that when you live in the country, you need one. That works. They are coming to dig up our backyard this afternoon with a backhoe, which normally would bother me, but anything that will allow me permission to poop in my home again is welcome here.

OK, since I am on the topic of POOP, I might as well stay gross and leave an appropriate Works for Me Wednesday topic! Having 5 little ones has taught me how to be an awesome barf cleaner-upper (I should put that on my resume). After many frustrating incidents of using papertowels to clean it up and, instead, smearing it into the carpet, I discovered....drumroll.......my dough scraper. I got one quite a few years ago and love using it for working with dough for homemade cinnamon rolls, dinner rolls, etc and for cleaning the flour off the countertop efficiently and scraping up dried dough bits. What they don't advertise are the vomit cleanup benefits. Whether on carpet or a hard floor, you just put it at a 45-degree angle and "scoop" up the yuck. I also use this tool for cleaning up messes like a broken bottle of relish, a dumped out ketchup bottle, and an emptied bottle of dishwashing soap. The uses are endless. The first time Hubby saw me using my dough scraper on vomit, he about vomitted, but I clean it really well and disinfect it - I promise. Mine is all stainless steel, so it is very easy to feel confident that I have it totally clean.

Now, back to waiting on the poop fairy (aka backhoe operator). And I promise, no more gross posts in the future (assuming they get this problem fixed today, that is).

For more WFMW ideas, be sure to visit Shannon at Rocks in My Dryer!

Brutal honesty from a 5 year-old Princess

I fondly remember when our oldest child (now almost 11) was about 5 and we asked her what she wanted for Christmas. Her response would have melted even the Scrooge-iest heart. "Mom, I don't need any toys; there are lots of other kids that don't have toys and Santa can take the toys to them." Ahhhhh.....we are such good parents. We basked in the generosity of her comment for a long time and repeated it to anyone who would listen (and probably some who didn't). OK, so now fast-forward to today in the parking lot of Toys-R-Us. I have G-man (our 3 year-old son) and Princess C (our 5-year old villain) with me to get some last-minute shopping done for the other kids. As we are heading into the store, we have the following exchange:

Princess: "I wish I could have written a letter to Santa, but I don't even know how to write a letter and you didn't help me..." (yes, this was fully intended to instill guilt into me, I am sure. Didn't work)
Me: "What would you have told him you wanted?"
Princess: "Everything."
Me: "But then Santa might think you are a greedy little girl."
Princess: "I am."

Sheesh. There's a heart-warming story for the Christmas newsletter. Oh, and speaking of the Christmas newsletter - I am soooo glad I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning working on them so I could get them mailed out first thing this morning only to be too sleepy today to remember to mail them at all!! Yes, I drove around all day with them in a Wal-Mart bag on the back seat, ready to me mailed out, only to remember it 10 minutes after the post office was closed. Grrrrrr.

Works-for-Me-Wednesday!

Ok, after months of much take and no give, I am going to post my first "Works-for-Me-Wednesday" post. I totally discovered this "trick" when I was driving down the road and one of the kids kicked over my Super Biggie Jumbo iced tea. All over the passenger-side floor of my beloved Suburban. (It's like my fifth child...I love it dearly). I pull over to the side of the road and am rooting through all kinds of papers and trash trying to find SOMETHING, ANYTHING absorbent. Then it came to me...a disposable diaper!! (A clean one, preferably :o) ) Worked like a charm to suck up every last drop of that tea. I just opened the diaper up and pressed it down hard on the carpet and it worked great! So, now, even though my youngest is (finally) out of diapers, I still keep several disposable diapers in our vehicle for such spills. Of course, when you are finished with it, you can just wrap and tuck and tape that baby up. Did you ever notice that you can tell how experienced a woman is in diaper changing by observing her "wrapped" dirty diaper? A first-time mother leaves a loosely wrapped diaper the size of a softball. By the fifth child, I could wrap and tuck a size 6 diaper to where it would fit in a pill bottle. Yea for me.

For more great tips, be sure to visit Rocks in My Dryer at http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/shannon/.

The word you never want to hear your Grandpa say...

OK, so every Thursday for about eleven years, my Grandma and I, along with my kids, get together to eat lunch and usually go to the park or something. Yesterday, I call to tell her I am running late, as usual, (because I was baking cookies to take to her; check out the recipe and pictures below; they were YUMMY!!) and she had already left for the restaurant, so I got their answering machine. The message, in Grandpa's voice, was as follows: "Petals are falling off of the flowering trees, but we are still ERECT, so please leave a message after the beep and we will return your call." Leave a message??? After hearing my Grandpa say the word "erect"?!?!?!?!?? Sheesh. I could hardly drive, let alone think to leave a message. And, what does the word "erect" even really have to do with flowers on trees anyway? Sort of like he was looking for a sentence to use the word "erect" in. OK, enough; I am trying to cleanse my brain of the trauma now.


Big Fat Chewy Chocolate Chip Cookies
3/4 cup butter, melted
1 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
1 egg
1 egg yolk
1 Tblsp. vanilla
2 cups flour
1/2 teas. baking soda
1/2 teas. salt
2 cups chocolate chips

Cream first six ingredients until real fluffy. Add next three. Stir chips in by hand. Drop 1/4 cup size dough balls about 2 inches apart on cookie sheet. Bake at 325 degrees for 15 to 17 minutes. Edges will just be turning brown. Remove to cooling rack. Makes 18 cookies - really BIG, chewy cookies.

Weird quotes from the wee ones, Part 1 (and a few great recipes, too!)

OK, so there are certain things as a mother that make you stop and think, "Wow, only a mother ever hears/says/thinks a statement/question/order like that." Like hearing yourself say out loud, "Sweetie, blow your nose real hard and maybe the rock you shoved in there will come out." (yes, I had the opportunity to say this last week with our almost-3 year old, and yes, the pebble did come shooting out as anticipated) So, anyway, I am taking the kids (ages 9 and 10) to school this morning and the silence is broken when my 10 year old daughter says in a sad, sad voice, "I'm glad you're my mom, but I sure wish you were an Origami master." Huh? I guess she has a new Korean friend at school whose mom rocks because she IS an Origami master. So, anyway, I can't do Origami, but I did make some awesome homemade soft pretzels today and am going to try and post a picture of one of them. The kids are begging me to make caramel corn to eat while we watch American Idol tonight, so I may end up doing that later, too. These pretzels taste similar to those at Auntie Anne's, but they are much better, if I must say so myself! For dinner, I have our favorite roast in the Crock Pot, so I will try to post that recipe as well.

Aunt Annie's Pretzels

Preheat oven to 550 degrees. Grease a baking sheet.

Mix together: 1 1/2 tsp yeast
1/2 tsp brown sugar
Dash of salt
1 1/2 cups warm (110°)water
Let sit for 5 minutes.
Add:4 cups bread flour..Knead well and then let rise for about 1 hour.Take a piece of dough and roll and shape into pretzel. Easiest way to shape--roll into a rope, whatever size you prefer, pinch ends of rope then bring ends of rope to other side of circle.Dip in mixture of warm baking soda and water (2 tsp baking soda and 2 cups warm water). Sprinkle coarse salt on top if you wish. Place on prepared baking sheet.Bake at 550 degrees for approx. 8 minutesWhile still hot brush them with melted butter & honey (approx 2 tbsp honey to 1/2 lb butter). (note: I just used melted butter)


Here is the roast recipe - it ROCKS!:

DIE FOR CROCK POT ROAST
1 beef roast, large enough to fit in your crockpot
1 pkg. Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing Mix
1 pkg. brown gravy mix
1 pkg. Italian dressing mix
1/2 C. warm water

Place roast in crockpot. Mix all three envelopes and sprinkle on top of roast. Pour water in the bottom of the crockpot. Cover and cook on low 6 to 7 hours. The gravy is phenomenal!!

Ahhhh...the scent of orange groves

No, that's not an orange grove you smell in my house, it's frickin' Orange Glo. On EVERYTHING. I was at the office and call home to ask hubby a question and he sounds a little, well...mad. I asked if everything was okay and he proceeds to tell me that he went out to the barn to check on the milk tank and when he came back to the house, which is a baseball-throw's distance from the house, our almost-3 year old had sprayed Orange Glo on EVERYTHING on the first floor. I said "well how long were you out there," and he answers, "15-20 minutes, but he was sleeping." My trademark sarcasm responded, "obviously, he wasn't," which abruptly ended our conversation. You just have to know our little Garrett. The kids could raize this house if given a full half-hour. So, for the last two days, everything I pick up slides right out of my hands when picked up. Smells good, though. Garrett has a few little quirks worth mentioning. Today, I go to lay him down for his nap. He has always been a very good sleeper. (you can see where this is heading) He has a cute little car bed he loves. I go to put him in it and the pillow is at the right end of the bed and it has always been on the left end of the bed. He FREAKS OUT! Starts yelling about the pillow and pointing to where it used to be. Being the good mom, I move the pillow to the other end. Now he cries and points to the end of the bed I just moved it from. I give up and close the door, to which he lets me know there is no way he is even considering a nap today since I messed up the Feng Shui of the nursery. Give me a break.
There is something about a toddler skipping a nap that just ruins my day. And laying him down to no avail is sort of akin to handing me an ice cream cone and then ripping it from my hands right before I take a bite. Just cruel. I couldn't love him any more than I already do, but I plan my day around his nap to some extent. Ok, enough whining.

It was the kind of Mommy Moment that make me appreciate the relaxation of going into my office and dealing with the comparatively simple things, like federal court briefs and commercial leases. Really...at the office, I'm the boss. Here, I am merely a pawn in the hands of my 2, 4, 6, 8, and 10-year old kids.

This evening, I had a landscaping guy come to give me an estimate on some work I want done in the yard. We are standing in the yard talking, when suddenly Garrett comes shooting out of the house at Mach 200 and goes flying past us. Being the good mother, I take off after him in a very flattering half-crouched-over-I'll-catch-up-with-him-any-second position, with him gaining ground. I hear the landscaper snickering behind me. Jerk. So, I hear Garrett saying, "Fwim! Fwim!" and know now that our cat-and-mouse game is apparently headed around the house and for the pool. He heads straight up the steps to the deck and is going full speed toward the water when I literally grab him in mid-plunge, with him yelling "FWIM!" the damn landscaper laughing hysterically and my sweatpants falling off my slow, sorry butt. He mumbled something about, "you have your hands full with him," as I held Garrett, resisting the urge to squeeze the bujeebee's out of him. How can a 2-year old be so darn hard to catch? The most insulting part of it is when he is trying to outrun me, he is constantly turning back, looking at me with a big smile on his face. This whole scenario was very reminiscent of a few weeks ago at our new church when Garrett discovered the baptismal tub (font? not sure what they call it) at the front of the church that I didn't know was there until I see him running to the front of the church after the service, he yells, "water!" and someone says, "Get that kid!!!" Me, again, crouched over, in high heels, trying to catch him while he is up the steps and literally inches from "fwimmin'" in the holy water.

Well, I need to get some sleep. My little beast(s) will be awake in about 7 hours.

Losing my Blogging Virginity!

Well, I take the first big step today and go from blog-reader to blog-poster. Woo-hoo! I still need to get a feel for exactly what topics I am going to write about, much of that probably decided by whether this is a blog that I plan on telling friends and family about or not. Certainly need to consider the audience when making public one's thoughts about people and life in general. I have seen several sites that have a list of "100 Things About Me" which I have enjoyed reading. I have been thinking the last few days what I will put, but, again, depends on the audience.

Well, let's see if this post even works before I get too excited about future posts. Besides, our new cat has some major farting issues he is "working out" here on the couch next to me, so I need to go get some fresh air. Bet he wouldn't be purring so peacefully if he knew that next Thursday at 2:00, a vet with a scalpel will be, well...you get the picture. Our 6-year-old is going to go in and watch the surgery. She goes in when one of our cows needs surgery and she "assists" the vet. She has helped with C-sections, twisted stomachs, foot surgeries, etc. Yes, she's quite unique, but you'll learn more about her (and my 4 other kids) in coming posts!