Kool is F-O-R-T-Y/and a Story Add On!

Happy 40th Birthday Karen!

I could not let Ms. Karen's 4oth come and go without some acknowledgment. Well, I could have, but I did not want to. I thought that a great way to honor her was to create a STORY ADD ON that would make her proud. Do you think we can do it? Give it a try. Don't be shy...if you have never participated in an ADD ON before give it a shot.

RULES: (A post honoring Kool would most certainly have to have rules!)

1. Read the whole story before throwing in your 2 cents.

2. If you are feeling intimidated or creatively challenged you are free to just add a few lines. Or at least leave a comment wishing Karen a happy 40th!

3. If you post a great story addition only to publish it and find out someone got one in right before you, delete yours and try again.

4. Have fun! And let's make Kool proud!

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The day was starting like so many others. The sun peeked in behind, beneath, and through her bedroom curtains. The shower was already steaming up the room as her husband rushed to get ready for work. Something was different though...she couldn't remember ever sleeping as soundly as she had last night. Her mind plagued with thoughts about PTO meetings, wayward teens and adolescent scheduling, usually kept her from peaceful sleep these days. But not last night. Last night she did not even remember turning off the reading lamp or kissing her husband goodnight. Maybe it was the box of wine they had finished off before bed...whatever it was she wasn't too anxious to drop her feet to the cool floor and break the spell.

But rise she must. Stretching her limbs upward and outward in a bear like motion she rambled out of her bed. As she opened the bedroom door dressed in her chenille robe and fuzzy slippers she was anything but prepared for what her eyes beheld...

Things I've learned by having a 1st grader

The First Grade Boys: Theo, Johnny, Nicholas, Scott, & Jerett.

(Andrew is the honorary brother to all!)

1. First grade is most certainly and altogether completely DIFFERENT than kindergarten.

2. Even a child who starts 1st grade unable to spell will take a spelling test the first week of school and surprise the heck out of me.

3. Correcting a 6 year-old's first attempt at a spelling test by writing over his letters, hurts his feelings and tugs at my heart.

4. As an English major I am even more frustrated than my six-year-old when I can not explain why there just has to be an "E" at the end of 'white' even though you CAN NOT HEAR ITS SOUND.

5. Even though each day is extremely challenging having buddies to run with makes it worth going back.

6. When a teacher sends homework for a first grader it means homework for mom too.

7. Mom should read all directions VERY carefully before helping son with assignments. The numerous red marks are even more traumatic when they are because mom didn't read the directions.

8. After experiencing the level of difficulty my son is challenged with academically each day I now do not roll my eyes when he says that gym, lunch, and recess are his favorite parts of the school day.

9. A little encouragement goes a long way in boosting morale.

10. Dad will be in charge of all things intellectual after first grade.

Not so Wordy Wednesday

A boy.

A book.

A perch.

A weekend excursion

We had a dual purpose camping trip this past weekend. We wanted to be part of Chad's sister, Laurie's, surprise 40th birthday party and get in a great weekend of Fall camping with my family.

The weather was perfect. The company was great. The memories were priceless. Enjoy the show.

I think that we surprised her.
Laurie, it's not so bad...except for the fact that you are
now staring 50 in the face! :0)

I have returned from no where.

You may have noticed that I did not blog last week. You may not have noticed. Either way, it is what it is. I had reasons, not very good ones...but reasons.

Now I am back. I think.

What did I do with my free time you might be wondering... well, not as much as I should have that is for darn sure. But I did make a trip to our local library with a list of reads that I swiped from a few of you BOOKWORM bloggers. That in itself is enough to convince me not to be a reader. The librarian was very nice, don't get me wrong. But I have never seen such a screwed up unique way of filing books. So even after I figure out if they have the books I am looking for, finding them in the shelves...almost impossible.

I did manage to come out with three and last week I read two of them. Good stuff. One of my many problems that arises from the much larger problem I have of no SELF-CONTROL is that when I get a book, I see no reason why it should not be finished immediately. It is there. It is interesting. There is no reason not to keep reading. Except that supper needs to be cooked, dishes need to be put away, kids need to be read too, blogging needs wants to be done.

I digress. I am back. I think. Whether that makes you smile or not.

Mom's Turn

An Iowa Mom had this insane fabulous idea for a blog where we are encouraged to SPEAK OUR MINDS. Here I thought I'd been doing that all along. The real kicker...you can do it anonymously. Holy cow people...watch out. If you think I am easily annoyed based on my writing here on HJWDYK...you have no idea what you could be in for.

All of you who have been wondering when you'd show up in a blog post- now is the time. Stop over and check it out. Submit a story. Release your pent up anger, frustration, or annoyances. It's really cheap therapy.

Duck, duck, GOOSE!

Yes ladies and gentlemen, it is that time of year again. That time of year when all things wild should be very afraid. There are men, women (Amy), and children that are armed and dangerous coming to end your life in the name of sport and then dine on your flesh. It is a very beautiful thing.

Honestly, it is a beautiful thing. If done correctly. It is a beautiful thing that the idea of rising before dawn to lay in a cold, wet field with his father, is not only appealing to a six-year old but that he awaits it with anticipation. It is a beautiful thing that most mornings nothing dies, but much is born between this father and son in the way of bonding. It is a beautiful thing that respect for animals, guns, and nature can be taught by a caring and loving parent and not a radical extremist.

Yeah, occasionally they bring home something feathered and dead. And the look in Nicholas' eyes is priceless as they sparkle with the thrill of the adrenaline rush. I have not made the leap into it being a beautiful thing to eat this feathered fowl...I just don't enjoy the mud slurping, scum sucking flavor of a bird that feeds on the pond scum of a lagoon. But the boys chow down with pride in knowing they 'provided' their women with some sustenance. Even if we're eating the chicken version of this meal.

The things that bug me about Caillou

I know that you are thinking one of these two things right now: a) This woman has entirely too much time on her hands if she has time to be annoyed by a cartoon character. Or b) I am so glad that I have a real job and do not have to be bothered by this type of childish nonsense.

It's okay. I can take it. I admit that I am socially retarded. I had a college professor inform me that any child that endured homeschooling could expect no less. (He had no idea that I had been home schooled.) I can handle it. Regardless, I'm sharing my complaints.

1. His name. There is no phonetic sense behind his name. Look it up on baby names dot com....nothing. I'd hate to be the teacher who has to teach him how to spell that one. I should be careful here because I am learning that this is the trend with many children these days. Sorry, it bugs me.

2. His voice. Could it be any whinier? I don't think so.

3. His clothes. Why does he wear shorts and a t-shirt (the same every episode) while his parents wear long sleeved shirts and pants? Just wondering.

4. His unexplained baldness. If he suffers from a childhood illness that causes him to have no hair...please share this with us. It would be a great story line and I would indeed be empathetic. If he is bald because the artist was feeling lazy that day? That's annoying.

5. He's never disciplined. He is a typical kid. He whines, disobeys, and is often naughty....but why isn't he ever disciplined with anything more than a..."Caillou, why did you do that? You know we don't hit Rosie."? I'm not saying he needs to be spanked. It's public television for crying out loud, we all know how beastly that would be. But come on, give us something that resembles real discipline.

Okay, that's it. That's all I've got. Sorry if I offended any avid Caillou fans. Kate likes him too. I'm just sayin'....

Not so Wordy Wednesday

Katharine Anne is sportin' a 'tude...

and a fabulous look, I might add.

Have you forgotten?

Do you remember where you were when you heard?

Do you remember how you felt seeing the images of the planes crashing into the towers...and then the towers falling?

Do you remember who you called first...just to see if you were really seeing what you thought you were seeing?

Do you remember feeling angry, scared, and totally devastated?

Do you remember how our country in all of it's large-ness...seemed suddenly so small?

Do you remember feeling like you could drive all the way to New York just to offer your hands in service to someone hurting?

Do you remember hugging your spouse, parents, children, friend just a little bit tighter and longer that night?

Do you remember when our elected officials finally quit acting like politicians and instead acted like hurting humans?

Do you remember seeing the flags flying in every yard, every building, and homemade tributes lining fences?

Do you remember the heroes of Flight 93, who took the role of soldiers and defended their country in the air?

Do you remember crying in your pillow asking God why, yet feeling a peace that He was still here?

Do you remember how proud you were to be an American?

Do you remember the soldier fighting right now in another land defending our freedoms?

Don't forget. We can not ever forget.

If I needed another reason....

...to LOVE Sunday's, then this is it: NFL OPENER BABY!

After what has been a very long and exhausting couple of weeks this was just about the perfect way to spend a day of relaxation.

I have divided my time lately between caring for those in my house with the 'pukes and poops' and doing massive fundraising and preparation for our school's largest annual fundraiser event, The Fall Fest (which was held Saturday)...while feeling less than perky myself.

After a week of late night wake-ups to get water for a dry throat, running to the aid of a school child bent over the toilet, and scrubbing my carpets at 2am due to the poor bowel control of a toddler....spending a day on the sofa with my family, who was mostly healthy again, while watching the best thing television has to offer, was pretty picture perfect.

Both of our teams were victorious. Even though the Vikings have yet to prove if they have a consistent offense to compliment their refreshingly on-the-ball defense. Even if the Bronco's were trying to start the season with a nail-biter by not claiming their victory until there was NO time on the clock. Either way, they won. As for my fantasy team, Heidi's Hero's, (as if any of you CARE)...crossing my fingers that my 40 point lead will be enough to win the season opener as well.

Here's to a great season of sofa sittin', beer sippin' guzzlin', soup eatin', NFL watchin', GOODNESS!

Sometimes it's as simple as a kids movie

Broken marriages, children with sicknesses, alcoholism, war, disobedient children, job questioning, financial stress...

I am sure that you have your own list of things that you would love an explanation for, an answer to the question "Why, Lord?" The above are just some of mine.

For a time, what seemed like a LONG time, I struggled with praying, something that had before been second nature to me, as easy as a conversation. During this time when I would open my mouth to offer up a prayer for a specific thing I felt mute. Words that usually come so naturally to me were absent. I felt abandoned and lonely in my relationship with God. Thanks to the wisdom of a spiritual advisor (no not the 1-900 type), I was awakened to the idea that God wanted me to be QUIET! Can you imagine? A total stranger delivering God's message for me to SHUT UP! Shocking.

But what wisdom it was. Since that time I have changed my prayer life by 360 degrees. I no longer request things from God as I once did. I no longer presume to know what His will is in every situation. I no longer assume that a lack of healing in a physical or brokenness sense is a result of my lack of faith. God is so much bigger than me. He knows so much more than I.

Instead my prayers became a complete surrender to the will of God. A complete trusting that whatever He had in store I would be able to find peace within it. I would stop telling Him what would bring me peace (answers the way I wanted them) and started asking for a peace that would surpass all my understanding in the face of a storm.

Prayer does not change God's will...it changes me. Maybe it's a simple as this: We aren't SUPPOSED to know 'why?' Maybe that is the truest and purest test of our faith. Things happen in this lifetime that we will never have an answer to this side of heaven but will we still TRUST HIM?

This song has been my prayer since that day. This song, in it's childish simplicity, is all that we need to pray sometimes. Please listen. And let God speak this message to you.

I'm a slacker...

I have been reading and hearing a lot lately about 'multi-tasking'. In fact, thanks to some ambitious women, they now have a blog set up specifically for that purpose. Have you been over there to check them out? Really you should. If not for the fabulous ideas that you'll glean then for the up-close, smack-you-in-the-face, reality check that YOU ARE A SLACKER. Well, I don't mean YOU, I mean ME.

Good grief. I used to think I could multi-task. I even brazenly mocked my husband along with all 'man'-kind for their seemingly inability to do so. But that was back when my distorted concept of multi-tasking reigned supreme.

Back when I thought that I was multi-tasking when I held a coffee up in one hand, steered the van with my knee, while changing the radio station with my free hand, watched the road with one eye, while glancing into the rear view mirror with my other, and used my mouth to tell my 3 year old to stop picking her nose and wiping it on the seat.

Let me tell you...that is amateur multi-tasking. The ladies over at Multi-Tasking Moms have taken it to a whole new level. What I described above could perhaps be called, Red-Neck multi-tasking. The six week menu planning, computer generated grocery-lists, alphabetized pantries....that is what we call SOPHISTICATED MULTI-TASKING.

I have much to learn, but right now I just need a nap.

Not so Wordy Wednesday

Baby love.

Just another weekend

Rats. Well, I can't be 100% certain that I should be using the plural form here...but with all of the well-meaning yet over-eager commentary from family and friends, I am pretty safe in assuming that where there is one rat there is bound to be many more.

Yeah, my rodent issues just keep coming. I am beginning to wonder what life lesson God is trying to teach me through this fear that keeps reappearing in my life these days.

My family and I camped over the holiday weekend. And if the Village People camping next to us were not enough entertainment then I suppose the rat walking into our campsite, showing no fear of the humans, was probably sufficient entertainment for a lifetime.

I am not a camping snob. I want to make that LOUD AND CLEAR. We have a pop-up camper that we pull with our minivan, which besides being loaded down with children, is packed to the extreme with bikes, coolers, suitcases and all the camping necessitates. FOR CRYIN' OUT LOUD, we look like camping red-necks too. So when I say that the campers next to us this weekend were a motley crew of characters, I say it with no disrespect. Just good old fashioned humorous observation.

I still have no idea where all the people slept that kept coming in and out of that tiny camper. That is except for the very large patriarch of the family who parked his mini-van near enough to hear the visiting but remained inside his driver's seat the ENTIRE weekend. Seriously. He slept in the van for 6 hours Saturday....then started up the van and drove to the restroom. His woman even brought his meals to him in the van. Add to him a ZZ Top band member, a fresh from the Florida beach tube top wearing granny, and a boy with a mohawk?? Good stuff.

On top of our hillbilly entertainment we were surprised with an unwelcome guest wandering into our campsite late Saturday evening. While we sat around the campfire visiting with some dear friends one noticed a "critter" walking up to the camper. As I lept up with my daughter in my arms to run to the safety of a picnic table, my husband jumped up and in one quick motion smashed the head of a RAT with a log. A RAT, people! I am aware that my sickness concerning mice is sometimes considered irrational, I do not see anything IRRATIONAL about being completely freaked-out-disgusted by a stinkin' rat!

Where did the rat come from? Why was it in our campsite? I don't want to assume....but I'm thinking we may have killed our neighbors pet.