Life at Lothlorien

This has certainly not been Lothlorien here this week. First, I never realized I would miss the humidity. My hair is straight as a board, my sinuses hurt, and I keep getting nosebleeds. I am actually having to run a humidifier in my house! Now, on to the trials from my children. First, imagine the horrified expression on my face as CC announced "B pee-peed in the sink!" Sure enough, he had relieved himself in the bathroom sink. As I stood paralyzed in stupefication, my DH was much more philosophical and took this as an opportunity to teach B the many wonderful qualities of 409 and bleach. Tuesday, CC and I were at home, with each of us doing our own stuff. She came by at one point and I thought she looked a bit odd, but dismissed it as not having her hair combed. Then I found locks of hair in the kitchen floor and took a better look at her. Yep, she had given herself a mullet. An emergency call to the hairdresser resulted in her new Dorothy Hamill look. After having to explai

Got this story second-hand: My DH was walking B to the bus the other morning. They were looking at the sky -- it was striped oranges and blues and whites. My DH asked B what he though it looked like. "It looks like Mommy sewed the sky," he replied.

B: "CC, a cornucopia is an ice cream cone that you turn upside down and fill with things you are thankful for."

We were leaving the house to go to the chiropractor's today. B looked a bit uncomfortable and seemed to be holding his private parts. "Are you okay?" I asked. "Yes." "Do you need to go to the bathroom?" "No." He moved his hands away from his pants. There seemed to be a bit of a bulge there, but I thought it was probably one of those things that little boys go through and, being female, I really didn't understand and didn't want to start a conversation about. As we got to the front door, he moved his hand back to his pants. I noticed that the bulge had moved and was actually at the top of his leg. "B, take the toy out of your pants." "How did you know I had a toy in there?" "Because I'm your mother, that's why." "So you can see through pants?" "Yes." And out came a Bee Movie toy from McDonalds. Why he needed to hide it in his pants I don't know -- and don't want to know.

I had been wondering for a couple of days what the white stuff was. First, it was on CC's shirt. Then, some appeared on her dresser. The final straw was when it appeared all over her mirrored closet door. "CC, what is this?" I asked. "The doggies are playing in the snow," she replied. Sure enough, there were two little doggie stickers in the midst of the blizzard. "But where did you get the snow from?" I continued to question. "From your bathroom." I racked my brain for what it could be. It didn't seem like toothpaste (her previous choice for home decorating). "What is it from my bathroom?" "You know, the stuff you put under your arm." And she proceeded to demonstrate how it was used. And I realized that cleaning products are mismarketed, because none of them tell you what will remove underarm deodorant from a mirror. Then again, something like that probably wouldn't sell, because who could anticipate needing it?

One of the things about moving into a smaller house is that I'm having to decide what my priorities are. I can't fit everything in, so I have to decide what kind of a person I really am. And I don't mean a good person or a bad person, but what I really want to spend my time (and money and space) doing and keeping. So, I gave away a lot of kitchen stuff (I am coming to grips with the fact that I really don't cook) and stocked my cabinets in the breakfast room with all of our art stuff. I realized that something was definitely different about me when I had lived here 6 weeks and suddenly realized that I didn't know where my iron was. And, no, I wasn't doing laundry at the time. I was trying to iron hem tape in some brightly colored cloth for some curtains. BTW, I found the iron a week later.

CC is alternately fascinated with Halloween and petrified by it. She tells me she can't go in the dark (or whatever else she doesn't want to do) by saying "I'm too scary." And all too soon, she will grow older and say it correctly and I will miss her being "scary" as much as I miss her brother's fascination with Christmas "crackernuts."

My son has taken to sending us messages via paper airplane. So far, we've gotten "I'm hungree," "I'm thirstee," "Hi," "Thank you," and "I'm sick" (he's fine now). Then I found one in his sister's room that said "Kuleen Up!" I can't wait to see what comes next.

I was very shocked yesterday to realize that there are people in this world who have not seen the movie "The Princess Bride." Of course, I started spouting off quotes from it, which got me some very strange looks. I'm not sure what my favorite quote is, but the one I use most often is: "Bye, bye boys. Have fun storming the castle!" Aside: "Think it'll work?" "It'll take a miracle." "Bye, bye!" So, what's your favorite quote? -- just post it in the comments section.

B has been harassing me for quite a while to back our SUV into the driveway like Daddy does. We have a shorter driveway here, so I figured I could do it. Also, the driveway is quite sloped, so I was worried about everything falling out when I open the hatch on the back. I successfully backed in for several days. Then, my DH had to move his car and I realized that I was using it for a visual guideline. Without it, I ended up crooked in the middle of the driveway every time. So yesterday I decided that I was going to accomplish this. I opened my door and watched the center line of the driveway closely as I backed in. And KAWHUMP. I ran over my own mailbox with the right front fender. When I checked my e-mail last night, my SUV had gotten a birthday message from the dealership. I'm glad the SUV can't e-mail back, because I don't want to know what it would say about how its birthday went.

B said today that he wants to work at Target when he grows up. We went to Super Target today to get some stuff. He and CC unloaded the stuff in the card onto the conveyer belt. At the other end, there is a second conveyer belt for the stuff once it's bagged. He asked the cashier if she would turn that one on, so he could get the bags and put them in the cart. She showed him that there was a switch on the end that controlled the conveyer belt and that he could operate it himself. You would have thought that she gave him a key to a treasure chest, he was so happy.

CC has really done well with this move to a new city. She has been excited to make new friends. She thinks it's neat that some of her teachers and friends have the same names as teachers and friends from our old town. While talking about this the other day, she became contemplative and asked "Will we get a new Grandma and Grandpa, too?" (Gma and Gpa live in our old town.) "No," I replied. "We'll have the same Grandma and Grandpa. But they'll get to come and have sleepovers at your house now." That was enough for her.

I almost forgot to post the stunning photographs of my new kitchen.

Well, we are here in the new house. The moving van arrived bright and early Saturday morning with all of our stuff. Benny, the supervisor, cocked an eyebrow at me and said, "All of the stuff in that truck is supposed to fit in that house?" "Yep, " I confidently replied. For the past week we have been maneuvering around the maze of boxes in our home. My DH continually says, "We've got a lot of stuff." Okay, he uses a much more derogatory term. I actually thought with a smaller, one-story house we would be able to find each other easier, but I have already lost him twice and CC lost me three times just today. The unpackers came on Tuesday. Now instead of piles of boxes, I just have piles of stuff everywhere. I am finding many things that we were keeping just because we had the room for it. It's slowly coming together. Boy, do I have a hard time stopping at night and going to bed, though. Once I get going, I just want to keep plugging away until the e

There I was, innocently putting away my china and Christmas dishes in the dining room buffet, when I saw it -- an Aggie gnome. He has joined his new friends Bob, Not-Bob, and Baby Bob (the concrete geese) in the circle under the tree in the front yard. The movers arranged those, BTW. But what do you name an Aggie gnome?

CC and I really enjoyed the quilt shop hop. It was a great excuse to drive all around the area. I just had to stop myself before becoming obsessed with making sure I visited ALL of the shops on the list and missing out on other fun for the kids. CC was a great shopping buddy. She was patient and happy to look around. Actually, she is probably more dangerous as a shopping buddy than anything because she encourages my behavior. She had several consistent questions for the shop owners: (1) Do you have any toys? (2) Where is the potty? (3) Do you have any candy? (4) Do we get a door prize? Shop #1: CC drew a candy out of a basket for me and won a small grab bag. Talked me out of a bag of M&Ms and a matching child/doll skort pattern for her and her doll Ruby. Shop #2: CC found a tiara, a baby doll, and won the hearts of the shop owners. They wrapped her in a turkey feather boa (to go with the tiara), took her picture and printed it out for me. She was definitely a shop hop princess ther

"CC, you know not to color on yourself." "I didn't." (Her stomach has been scribbled all over with a pen.) "Then who colored on your stomach?" "I don't know -- a ghost?" she said with a grin.

There are some issues with raising children who like to read. One almost hurt herself because she was walking through the bookstore while looking at her new book. The other had trouble staying concentrating in school because he stayed up reading in his bed with a flashlight. They don't tell you about these dangers on Reading Rainbow.

Turns out Dad has x-ray vision just like Mom. B suddenly announced last night that from now on we were going to read bedtime stories in CC's bed only (we had been taking turns). I didn't think and just agreed. Dad, however, became suspicious, especially as B kept repeating the rule and becoming more adament. Sure enough, under the bedcovers were Megatron, Optimus Prime, Hotshot and some AllSpark cubes. Three cheers for superhero Dad!

Yep, we've made our first trip to the ER in our new hometown. It was for me, not the kids. I'm fine, but it turns out I am now allergic to amoxicillin and penicillin. It all started with some itchy bumps yesterday. I kept wondering why I suddenly got bit by mosquitos when I haven't had a problem with them all week. I finally decided it was because we went to a wooded park yesterday for the first time and just left it alone. I put some anti-itch cream on the bumps and went on with my day. More bumps kept appearing and I kept trying to figure out where those pesky mosquitos were coming from. I went to bed and had horrible dreams about being bit by brown recluse spiders (some tiny, tiny spiders had jumped on me in the deck chair Sat a.m.). Then really started itching and dreamed that I had contracted smallpox. Nothing like a little imagination. B woke up this morning and got my DH to go watch TV. I got up to go the bathroom and my lips felt funny. I looked in the mirror and my

CC and I checked out a few quilt shops today. The first had a lot of great fabric, but was run by two older guys who seemed to want to pressure people to buy something. Only a couple of other people in the shop and they didn't stay for long. Found another quilt shop, smaller and fewer choices, but run by some fabulous women who told me all about the local quilt guilds, their shop's clubs, their classes, and anything and everything quilt-wise in the area. They had a basket of toys and books for CC and talked to her as well. Lots of people wandering in and out and sitting on the floor matching colors and picking out fabrics. I was in heaven. Now, my dilemma is that I found out there's a big Shop Hop scheduled in the area for the same weekend that I move into my new house. Is it wrong to hope that my furniture won't be delivered until Monday so that I can make it to all the stores (the Hop starts on Thursday, so I should get some of it knocked out then). Decisions, decisio

Why is it that I think I must intervene when things are going well? Why do I think that I can always make it better? The kids were having a great time last night in the hotel pool. B was throwing his life vest and pretending to catch CC, who was being a fish. They were having a great time. Then some other kids and their Mom and Dad joined us and all was fun and games. So, today I went to Target and bought some diving sticks (various Super Heroes) and my two kids spent at least twenty minutes fighting over who got which one and if they were going to take turns and everything. I should have just left well enough alone.

Well, we are here at the hotel in our new city. My DH noticed that I was getting twitches about the thought of being unconnected for two weeks, so he kindly packed up my computer and reminded me that I had wireless capabilities. I made it through the first evening and then set it up as soon as the kids went to bed tonight. B had a good first day at school. He was a little nervous, but warmed up quickly. His teacher's name is Ms. Johnston. However, she is still out on maternity leave and won't be back for another couple of weeks. In the meantime, he has a sub -- Ms. Johnson. How's that for confusing a bunch of 1st graders and their parents?!?!? CC also had a good day. She was excited to make new friends and play with the toys in child care at the preschool. She told me "Bye" and went in without a second look. I also had a good first day. I have been very blessed with this new preschool job. One of my biggest concerns about my DH getting a transfer was the loss of m

Sometimes I think I need a set of worry beads just to have a focus for my obsessions. Everything is going smoothly with the new house, so of course I am convinced that there is something that I need to be doing, to be more active on, to be obsessed with. Letting things happen and especially letting other people be in control of any part of my life just doesn't come naturally to me. At this point, I'm just trying to see what God wants me to learn. It's a slow process and it seems that I need many repetitions of my lessons. We have a signed sales contract on the house. The inspector came yesterday and everything is structually sound. Some minor things that my dh wants to take care of himself. Yeah! Relocation package came through, too, so I need to pick a mover. Now there will be an opportunity for growth for me. I am very excited about not having to do the packing. I know, however, that when the day comes, I will worry obsessively about whether or not they will do a good job

Well, it looks like things are going to work out on buying the new house. Still some final negotiations to do. Here are some pics we took when looking at it. The guy walking up to the house is our agent, John. The house is 3 bdrms, formal dining and breakfast room, one living room and an enclosed sunroom. It's a narrow, but very long back yard (the property is on a curved corner, so it's pie-shaped).

Today was Mother's Day. It was not exactly the idyllic repose featured in advertisements. Three of us are in various stages of some nasty virus (maybe the flu?). CC already had this, so she's fine and bouncing off the walls and really happy that no one cares that she's spent the day mostly eating butterscotch pudding and fruit snacks. B and my DH have ended up with pinkeye. B still has a fever off and on. I am over the fever, but am still very tired and my throat hurts, so eating is very difficult for me. I got to sleep in (yeah, me!) and when I woke up, they presented me with a store-bought card (from my DH), a hand-drawn card (from B), an i-Tunes gift card, and a huge Hershey bar. CC kept offering to help me open the chocolate and I kept refusing, so she finally changed tacks and said "Mom, will you share your chocolate with me?" (her real goal, anyway). I got a nice hot bath with a good book, my chocolate, and my Dr. Pepper. It was the afternoon that made me wa

B is working hard right now to learn a skill that he saw demonstrated in school -- the armpit fart. He says he can do the motions, but not the sound. My world just gets weirder and weirder, for I will actually be proud of him when he masters this skill, due to his interest, determination, and diligence in practice and understanding.

Even though she had a fever and had been diagnosed with a sinus infection, I didn't really realize how sick CC was until she ASKED to go to bed and take a nap. Staying home with her sick today gave me a flashback. I had forgotten how it was in those first months when she was little and I stayed home all day to soothe and hold her. I couldn't even take a shower today, much less get to the grocery store. She was so hot with the fever and just wanted to lay on me on the couch. The big difference this time around is that I have to watch what she picks on TV instead of getting to choose for myself. I do see the benefit of those people who don't choose to medicate their children. Before I gave her the Advil at lunch, she was just lying on the couch watching TV and dozing off and on. After the medicine kicked in, she was much better -- still too sick to go anywhere, but well enough to be running around and asking me to play Little People. And all Mommy wanted to do was take a nap.

CC has been sick with a cold and having trouble sleeping. This morning, she kissed me and then said, "Eeww, you got my germs." B, putting in his 2 cents as usual, said, "Yeah, Mom. You better be careful or you'll have to use the vibrator tonight." "Um, don't you mean the vaporizer?" "Oh, yeah." And the more I try to explain that the only vibrator he knows is the foot massager at G'ma and G'pa's, the more I get knowing looks. Nudge, nudge, wink wink.

I wasn't feeling well last week. I had a cold and basically ended up losing my voice. I was fine, but really couldn't talk. So, my kids decided to take care of me and make my dinner. CC brought my favorite applesauce and a spoon. B brought a can of Chicken Noodle soup, a spoon and a bowl (I stopped him before he got to the can opener). There are so many days when I wonder if they are listening to me, if I've done a good job as a mother, if I am just failing everyone with my imperfections. Then, they do something like this and I know that it's all going to be okay.

B: "Mom, I know how to spell Arby's. A-R-B-Y-encyclopedia-S"