Treasure Hunting

Saturday morning, J took the older three kids on a hike with his Boy Scout den while I planned to go grocery shopping with Sasha. I can't describe in nice words how much disdain I have for grocery shopping with the masses at noon on Saturday, so if I must go, I go early.

So early Saturday morning, I buckled Sash into her carseat in "Daddy's car!" and headed to the store. Soon, we came across a sign that read: Moving Sale. I thought about it about half a second, then I turned the car from its WalMart destination to its new direction - a sale! As we pulled up, I quickly realized the sale was in someone's house. I snatched Sasha from her carseat, took a deep breath, and said, "There's a first for everything!" and into the house we traipsed.

Moments later, we left empty handed.

I've frequented garage sales in the past. Particularly when our income was significantly less than it is today. We were new parents. Of twins. Single income. Garage sales seemed to be the right equation for finding decent, cheap baby clothes. I once happened upon the Mother Load of baby mania at a sale in West County. I live in South County. (It's totally a St. Louis thing. Where'd you go to high school? {also a St. Louis thing. I am not from St. Louis. Just so you know.} Back to my story...)

I'd never been inside someone's house for a sale before. But recently, many of my favorite bloggers have shared stories of fabulous finds at such unseemly locations as Good Will. Garage Sales. I actually took the kids to Good Will several weeks ago. They had a blast! It's not the place I would have thought. It was fun! I don't recommend taking anyone into the bathroom there, but the shopping was fun! And I bought one of my white dishes for my succulents there for a measly $3! So, when I saw the next sign on Saturday that said: SALE! we turned the car around again and tried once more to find unknown treasures. This time, we hit the mother load of estate sales!

Stay tuned tomorrow for more on this, apparently, lengthy story!

Ha-YAH & Peepamzees

I made cookies tonite while J played golf with the kids. As I returned to the kitchen just now to clean up after the kids were all in bed - asleep, the house absolutely quiet, I thought, "What will they remember?" What will my kids remember about me? Will they remember Mom in the kitchen making cookies? Will they remember anything from these days? My oldest are only 7, after all.


And then I thought about this morning. And taking Meiners to the zoo. Sometimes that boy just gets so ... Cantankerous? Mischievous? I don't know. But I think what it comes down to is attention. That's all he wants.


My friend and I often lament that we did so much more with 'the older kids' when they were this age (4 and almost 2) - taking them to the Museum of Transportation, to the zoo, here, there...And now that the older ones are off to school and these little guys remain at home, for some reason, it just isn't as ... what? Fun? Exciting? Something - to take the younger kids to those same places. I mean, it isn't HARD to do. It just doesn't get done. Like playing with them on the floor. I used to play with the twins on the floor half the day. Now there's laundry to do and dog hair to vacuum and ... and what?


So today I took Meiners and Sasha to the zoo. And I bought my little man a chimpanzee toy. He took it straight away over to the primate exhibit and proceeded to give me the memory of a lifetime. The baby orangatan came right up to the window and clapped. At Meiners. And his little toy. And the baby begged Meiners to give him the chimp toy through the window. And he climbed the window and he laid on the floor --- all based on where Meiners placed the toy. And the orangatan baby clapped again. And kissed the window and made faces at Meiners. And a crowd gathered. And Meiners just grinned. The whole time, playing with this little primate baby and his chimpanzee toy. And I'd left my camera at home. But Meiners left with an extra bit of pep in his step. He listened a little better. All day.


I love that we went to the zoo. To see the 'peepamzees.'


Oh. And the boys have taught Sasha - 22 months old, barely able to speak - to do Karate.

Ha-YAH! (if only I could figure out how to post video...)

Today

Today I am several days behind in posting. I have race day pictures to share, funny kid stories, and even a little tale of disappointment. And yet, I have none of these stories in print for you. Perhaps, as I look ahead to another race just days away, I will use my time wisely and use the 'post later' option?

Nah.

Instead, I'll spend just a few minutes telling you that we did not get 'the house.' I have to admit to just you and me that I am disappointed. Very disappointed. And when I think on it with more than a glimmer of grey power, I think I might cry. But, really, it's not even worth the salt. To move or not to move into the house was placed solidly into God's hands from the very beginning. And this was Him saying, "No." Not realtors or banks or the world. It was Him.

Really, I'm OK with that. I shared with my Bible study group last week that, since having Pookie (and Meiners), I've truly realized that life is full of suffering. If we just look around, we can see it everywhere. Not just miles away or on TV, but right next door and in our own lives. Things have been going very well for our family for a while now. I admitted that I've sort of been 'waiting' - waiting for the other shoe to drop. A wonderful mentor sitting next to me said, "Perhaps it already is. Perhaps you've been through or are going through something bigger than you even realize. But you handle it as if it were small because you've learned to lean on God." Well, that hit me. Because there have been issues that I've dealt with and have been dealing with and He's been helping, guiding, and even removing them. Even this, even whether to move or to stay - he's been helping, guiding, and removing that issue, too. So, I'm disappointed. But it's just an opportunity - for another new beginning. A new beginning every day, here in this house. With this sinner. With this believer.

So, I live here. And I continue to be blessed to make this my home. For now, at least.

Thanks God, for another one!

I Say

I say: Isn't this little guy cute? He's my nephew. I call him 'Roo.

I say: Sun is Good. The rain and the clouds have disappeared - at least for today. And that, to me, is a very good thing.

I say: I am arguably living the best days of my life right now. When before or again in my life will I have the luxury of staying home of an afternoon while the baby naps and the other kids are at school? This is my time. I can do what I want. Be lazy. Be productive. Relax. Stress. I can eat lunch in. I can eat lunch out. I can watch TV. I can run four miles. I can nap. I can clean. It's all about me for a few hours each day. Here's to actually doing something great with this time in my life.

I say: You all put me in a quandry over the bedroom makeover. 75% of my respondents said they like the other comforter from the one I (and my two real life friends) like the best. I mean, I already have a comforter that looks like choice A, so it would be no $$ out of my pocket, ya know? (Except for the oddly not-matching dust ruffle in the photo, which would cost about the amount of the new - complete - bed set to make, plus the particular chocolate/cream homespun plaid that I am looking for, specifically, doesn't exist in the city of St. Louis...I know, after traveling to countless fabric and craft stores throughout our area...)

I say: Scrap the whole Choice A and Choice B concepts and shoot straight for Choice C - which is "Something Else Entirely." Back to square one: Boring Master Bedroom:

I say: Now what do I do? I've begun painting my bed as seen in Choice A. Oops. Guess I'll be forced to do Something now! (Or just keep hiding it under the comforter, like me with my head in the sand.)

I say: Isn't this a gorgeous home? It resembles the one we're trying to buy. And still waiting to hear about. We increased our offer on Monday. We have up to two weeks left to hear from the mortgage company holding the title of the house whether our offer was accepted, or if another offer came in higher than ours. There are pros and cons both ways, so I'm just sitting around (sometimes literally, it's afternoon, after all) waiting for the sign to fall from the sky (and hit me on the head?) to let me know what we'll be doing in the future.

I say: Maybe that's my problem lately. I'm just waiting around. Waiting to see what's going to happen next. Waiting to start all the projects floating around in my head. Waiting.

I say: My head hurts. And I think I need a nap.

LQQk @ what I'm doing...

Taking care of this little sick darlin' ... who's apparently feeling better today...

(doesn't she look like one of those old ladies shoppin' @ The WalMart's??

No offense, Ma.)

Baking these little darlin's...although I used other words for them, since they took f.o.r.e.v.e.r. And none of the kids liked them. At all. (If you look at the recipe, do yourself a favor and just whip up some Jello pudding - lemon, or whatever kid-friendly choice they might like...But do use the apple corer to remove the centers! Easy peasy with that little tip!)

Anyway, that's what I've been up to. Well, that and this: Trying to decide how to make over my bedroom with $200 (or, preferably less). What do you think?

A:

Or B:

Challenging

Photographing four year-olds is challenging. Well, at least photographing my four year-old is! He's sporting a new haircut - the shortest his hair has been since he was knee high to a grasshopper.

Meiners is a bit of a ... a wave rider. He goes with the flow. He does things his own way. Skater cuts have always suited him just fine. Not just his personality, but those ears and that high forhead dictated such style.

But, recently, he's made a little friend in preschool. And his friend is bald. Meiners decided he, too, wanted to be bald. I denied the request. But, I did allow the skater look to be altered. After-all, you're only four once. And, eventually, Mom has to relinquish control and let the kid make up his own mind (as if I have a choice with this kid...)

So, in an effort to unveil his new look, I decided to capitalize on the good lighting coming through yonder window. And Meiners informed me I had permission to photograph his foot.

"Look, Mom. I can hold this thing on my nose."

OK, maybe a kissy face.

Perhaps a tickle would, you know, tickle a smile out of him?

Evidently, the papparazzo got to be too much for him, though.

Here's the best I could do.


And don't even get me started on photographing a one year-old...

That's Capitalism, Baby

My dear 7 year-old daughter received a little civics lesson this afternoon while waiting in the car. It went something like this:

Me: Let's say you make your bed every day, set the table, and feed the dogs. Meanwhile, both your brothers sit on their butts playing the Wii. Would you like me to pay them the same allowance as I pay you?

Pooks: No.

Welcome to capitalism, Sweetie.