Sunday, February 19, 2017

The Day The Dog Refuse The Sausage

Mission runs. My husband goes with a volunteer or a couple, into our "big city" 45 min from our small town, picks up the day-old from some stores there and bring it back to our town and take it to a distribution center to be given away. He usually brings home a few things for us from that. It is often a case of the Good, the Bad and the Ugly.

This time, it was tofu sausage.

Tofu sausage that my husband dutifully cooked up.
Unfortunately for the tofu, the cooked sausage didn't pass my husband's taste test. so he gave the whole portion to our chihuahua mix, Toby.

Toby's favorite treat is chicken franks, but he get excited for any meaty thing.

I didn't learn about the tofu sausage until I came home and saw the very artificial looking links on  Toby's food dish.

Where they stayed for days.

And days.

Not. Even. The. Dog.

Monday, September 02, 2013

Happy Menarche!

I have *one* daughter.
I like parties.
I believe in celebrating the milestones -

That can only leave one obvious outcome . . . .

Drumroll please . . .


A menarche is a girls first period.  And where I was thinking something with lots of chocolate and a small selection of her female friends . .
Nevertheless, when doing research and asking questions I found some interesting ideas - and some that I'm NOT going to do . . .

Like the uterine piñata
Although - this could be kinda fun . . make the uterus feel a bit of the pain you do  . . . yeah.  Where is that stick again?  Oh - and as pull string piñata then at the other end of the string could be a TAMPON? . . . HAHAHA!  Ok.  no.

 And this little snuggly.

It's cute - just not what I'd want to get all snuggly with.  But that may just be me.

And then for cake?  I don't care to eat a uterus . .  . blah.

This - on the other hand - just made me laugh.  Pin the ovaries on the uterus game . . . .Oh My!

A tiara?  
Red dress? 
If she was up for it.  
Sash declaring her Miss Menstruation? 

Maybe you've got some other ideas?

Friday, August 23, 2013

The Poop Smear Endever

How we end up with poop smears  . . . *shake head*

We are well beyond the diaper and exploratory poop days.  You mothers know what I'm talking about.

Nevertheless, in my house we have a mystery poop smear-er.
No one admits to it - although I have my suspects.

Lately the kids have been using my bathroom when they have a perfectly nice, mostly clean, bathroom of their own. And today I saw a SMEAR!  Oh! the indignities! right on the back of my rim! Still, it was in such a place that you could, with just a little care - do your business and leave it there.

Because of course since it isn't MY smear - the mystery smear person should take responsibility . . . yada yada yada . . .

Come now to the book I'm reading, A Year of Biblical Womanhood. In chapter 4 author Rachel Evans grapples with the Proverbs 31 woman of the Bible.  At first it was an overwhelming task list that she was completely failing at . . .until she talked to a Jewess - who told her that Proverbs 31 isn't a to do list but a blessing . . .  A spoken blessing to speak to ladies.
"I looked into this, and sure enough, in Jewish culture it is not the women who memorize Proverbs 31, but the men.  Husbands commit each line of the poem to memory, so they can recite it to their wives at the Sabbath meal, usually in a song.". . .  
""It's like their version of 'You go, girl!" I explained to Dan [her husband] at the dinner table that night, . . ."" 
" . . . the woman described in Proverbs 31 is not some ideal that exists out there; she is present in each one of us when we do even the smallest things with valor."  
What a difference that puts on Proverbs 31, eh?!  But it certainly resonated with me . . . especially the "even the smallest things" . . . cause the smallest things are what keep me going at all!

My husband is of the old school (as was my Grandmother, so I hear) of the "If you can't do something right, don't do it at all." Where as I have a magnet on my fridge that says "If you can't do something right, AT LEAST DO SOMETHING!" . . . hehe.  Love it.

This blessing "eshet chayil" - literally 'woman of valor' - is a blessing that this gal pours over us mamas all the time!  And if you are a mom, you need to be reading her blog or facebook or whatever because she is funny, and real, and encouraging and she will tell you you are a superhero and keep your cape on cause we have  one more poop smear to wipe up and if that poop smear gets on your tattered cape you are all that much more awesome for it.

Fast forward to later today - and I visit my bathroom.  The smear is STILL THERE.  And I know my hubby has used the commode, not to mention the other kids . . . *sigh* and now the smear is probably hard and crusty . . .

Yes.  I know.  I did ignore it - probably first.  I did set up precedence . . . but I was hoping . . .

No magic happened in our house today. So I gather my mama cape and got out the cleaning agent and a handful of toilet paper and took care of that smear. And Felt Victorious! Woman of Valor! Because even the smallest things count.

Every small thing counts.

I didn't take a picture to accompany this post, cause there was a little cache of suspicious yellow looking stuff pooled on the back of the commode with some random hair and fuzz which I left for another day.

Another act of VALOR!

 Eshet chayil!

Sunday, June 09, 2013

Way way way to early

I don't know how my friend does this, but she can wake - DOES wake up like 4 or 5 am *naturally* every day.


Not me.

But since I woke about 3:30 today and battled going to sleep until about 4am - I'd thought I'd start my day. Because after all - SHE was awake - right?

She had already started her day - mayhaps I should try it, eh?

Pues - no.

Not for me, thankyouverymuch.

I'm ready to go back to bed.

Saturday, September 29, 2012

In the name of education.

We have a rule.

On Sundays we only watch things that are God honoring or Educational.

Tonight though - we watch 300. My husband loves epic battles.

So, I sit with the remote, finger at the ready to skip scenes.

There are kids running around here, after all.

I mention to my boy that the king Xerxes here is the king that Esther married from the Bible.  He gets excited and asks "So, this movie is 1% true?"

"Well, I'd call it more like 80% true with 20% guesswork and Hollywood!"  I go on to explain King Xerxes was real, King Leonidas, the Spartans, this battle, the odds, etc . . .

"OH!  So this is educational!  So we can watch 300 on SUNDAY!"

Hardly - my boy, but nice try.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

I am an artificial friend.

Plank Pulling is a little thing we do every Thursday around here. The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5 style.  It’s intimidating and it’s embarrassing and it’s humbling and it’s therapeutic all rolled into one.

I'm kinda amazed at my group of friends.  They are some amazing women!  But it is amazing that they count me a friend at all.

See - I'm artificial.

And they know it.

Let me explain; most of my closest  friends are nature loving, tree hugging, organic,  home making, from-scratching, kombucha drinking friends.

And I have at least one set of "America sucks and so does the American church" dreads wearing hippies. (Hi! Hippy friends!*wave*)

And I'm not.

And I'm patriotic.  I tear up at 4th of July parades.  At patriotic songs, too.  (again, Hi, Hippy friends! Love you!)

Now, I appreciate nature, beauty, and doing good for the the ecosystem - Nevertheless, I prefer nature walks with trails, Camp sites with hot showers, indoor plumbing (LOVE indoor plumbing) foods made with fresh/organic ingredients that *someone else* grew.  I like my chickens already plucked  and packaged.

And I like hot dogs.  No matter the ingredients, what is ground up and in a hot dog never tasted so good.  And Twinkies.  I like Twinkies.

A few days ago I went to visit one of said friends who has here own chickens, and they were going to . . I don't know, *Something* with the chickens and the kids were telling me how much it stank.  "But, OH!" my friend said "You get fresh eggs!" . .

To me the pay off is not worth it.  Not with cows, not with chickens, not with a major garden.

I might try growing a small herb garden.

As for environmentally healthy living - again, I can appreciate it.  But I really don't hold much hope of anything getting better.  I *do* believe that Jesus is coming back soon, and maybe the elimination of the ozone would be one of the major things that is spoken of in the Bible when the end is upon us.  So I won't say that all the disaster senarios environmentalist are dreading wont happen.  . .

Don't worry world, I don't just throw plastic bags out our car window while driving.  When at the beach I make sure to gather all my garbage and place it in it's proper receptacle, and I will buy "green" stuff if it's there at a good price.  But if it cost more to live better, I'll just die. Thankyouverymuch.

An optimistic cynic.  That's me.

When my friends talk to me about organic food, I can't jump on the bandwagon to believe it's better - Pesticides were created for a reason, and I am not buying that it was for population control.

That's what lick-able stamps were for.

If it's canned, packaged, instant, or boxed, it's OK by me.  I like preservatives that help the food I buy not spoil so fast and I'm willing to live with the consequences of hormones in my oranges that make them HUGE!

And with that last paragraph I'll probably have to go into witness protection program . . . .

Really - I love my peeps!  I can appreciate all they do and why.  Amazed they tolerate me.

But I only got the urge to drink kombucha *once*