Staycation!

It's the end of the first 9 weeks and the kids are out of school until next Wednesday. The school system decided to stack up teacher inservice days. SO... the kids' grandmother requested to have them for a couple of days. "WELL YEAH!!!" was my response. So.... hubby guy have a couple days of semi-staycation without children. We have some other responsibilities so we couldn't skip town (like our jobs).  So far it's been fun. We went on a date to Walmart last night. That may sound laughable but Walmart isn't a fun place to take children. It sounds like this: "Can I hav..... NO!....Can I hav...NO!...Can I hav....NO!" that sound track plays basically the entire time we're in the store.  So we are enjoying ourselves.

Justified Addiction

I have renamed the hammock. It is now referred to as "The Command Center". I can be found there more often than not. My love for the Command Center has grown so that I have to set up rules for myself. For instance, I have to do one SOMETHING useful like laundry, or cleaning, or actually feeding my family every day in order to gain "deserved" and unabashed access to the Command Center.

I was laying there yesterday somewhat ashamed even though I had completed my required task and I was analyzing why I'm so in love with the Command Center. I'm pretty sure I have it figured out.

1) I LOVE being outdoors when bugs are removed from the scenario. The Command Center is located on a screened porch.

2) I LOVE to read. Finding a comfy and well lighted spot is more difficult than it seems. The Command Center is a perfect reading spot. It's light outside in the daytime (yet shaded because of its location on the porch). AND.. I bought myself an amazing LED book light so that when the sun goes down I still have plenty of light.

3) The Command Center is located in a high traffic area of the house so I'm more accessible than when I hole up in my favorite chair. AND.... even though it's a high traffic area it stays pretty quiet because everyone passes through on their way to someplace else.

4) I LOVE being outside at night to hear all the bugs. Last night it was kinda humid and warmish. I felt like I was camping. I love to camp but hate the inconvenient potty situation of getting a site far away from the facilities. The facilities are only 7-10 yards from the Command Center.

There ya have it. Addiction justified.

I Love It When My Children Are Grounded!

*.... because of the lessons they learn from having consequences and because they will turn out to be splendid, responsible people.....*

That and, I get to be grounded too! I love being grounded. Unfortunately they were just grounded today for seperate offenses. BUT... I had one whole day where I didn't have to leave the house. I didn't even answer the phone *because I decided I should be grounded from it*.

I sat in the hammock, of course, and read a book. Then I watched a bunch of Hallmark movies :)  What a day.

While in the hammock I was also entertained by the little yard birds who were doing something interesting. We had a tree that we've hated since before we even moved in. Scott chopped it down this week to our neighbor's horror. * She's decided that without our hideous tree all the little birds won't come to her birdfeeder because they LOVED that hideous tree and it made them feel safe.*   So, I watched her beloved birds fearlessly float down from the neighbor's trees and hop all around in our yard and scared neighbor lady's yard. They don't seem bothered by the loss of the hideous tree. *Did I tell you that tree was hideous?*  One little birdy even lighted on the flower pot just next to the hammock outside the screen. He looked at me and I looked at him. I think if he were to speak he would have said something like, "Wow, I never knew all this was on the other side of that hideous tree. Thanks for expanding my horizons!" He didn't seem scared or disconent. If only neighbor lady had been there!

An Oldie But A Goodie

Have I ever told you that I adore little, shuffley old people?

I went grocery shopping yesterday. I had just retrieved some pumpkin in a can from the shelf and a little voice behind me says " Going for the pumpkin, huh.... I hear that stuff is hard to come by this year." I turn around and the cutest little old man is standing next to me. He didn't seem to be looking for anything. He was just wandering and offering commentary. He was precious.

A couple aisles later I encountered him with his wife. I only knew they were together because she spoke to him. He was still wandering and was several yards from her. She said, "Dad, we've already been down this aisle." It completely melts me when they call each other Mom and Dad. 

Sweet Moments

So last evening I was in the hammock reading * imagine that*... and the little one was outside of the screen porch stalking bugs. All of the sudden she asked "How does a stink bug stink?" I told her that people say that when they get smashed they smell terrible. I went on to tell her that I personally have never smelled the stink of a stink bug. She got quiet.   In a minute I hear Sniff, Sniff, Sniff followed by the matter-of-fact proclamation, "Nope, he doesn't stink."  It was classic.

Shortly after the non-stink bug incident I heard something odd. Apparently the little one has figured out how to open the dog door in the screen porch (it has a cover that stays on it because our dogs are too stupid to use it) and climb through it. She went on to tell me that she does that all the time. Apparently walking around to the side of the house and going through the garage is too much work. Again, classic.

I was overcome with gratefulness that even though we adopted older children we haven't missed out on all the fun parts of watching them grow up.

I Was Wondering..

I've been sick. I've been the kind of sick where you chug NyQuil and sleep for days at a time. Today is the week anniversary of said sickness. BUT.... the days leading up to the sickness were not good days (because I'm mean and useless when I'm getting sick). So..... I haven't cleaned house in two weeks.

Today I was cleaning house (FINALLY) because our small group meets on Friday nights. To perpetuate the illusion that our house is magically clean and stays that way all the time I had to do a really good job.

One thing I've discovered about the hard surface floors downstairs is that hard surfaces promote dust bunnies (because the hairs have no carpet to cling to). The thought today upon encountering said bunnies was this: How big does a dust bunny have to be before it can be a card carrying rabbit? Apparently two weeks is long enough... I had an entire herd of rabbits in my "Blue Room".

The thought struck me funny. That I had rabbits and not bunnies.

Ick!

I really do hate being sick. It steals all of my energy. I've been sick now since last thursday. On saturday I felt markedly better. Now I feel yuck all over again. The whole family has it too! We are a mess.

Is It Just me?

Is it just me or is Hee-Haw (pictured above) regarding me (the taker of the picture) with great interest? I couldn't help but wonder if he recognized a familiar stubbornness.

Foster Stigma

I just spent the last few days reading a REALLY LONG book. It's the life story of a girl who tragically lost her mother and because of an unfortunate law grew up between foster care and the streets. She actually ended up being a lawyer. It was a pretty amazing story. The book, however, was a hard read. It was hard to read in way too much detail exactly what she went through. I can't imagine it. It was also hard to read all the language. I've put down many other books that had a 1/4 of the language this book had in it. I just really wanted to know how it ended up. Now I know and can get on with life.

I remain frustrated that there seem to be more stories about how terrible foster parents are than there are ones the state otherwise. I'm not gonna drag out my soapbox here, but I really want to.

I talked to my oldest about that particular frustration I had with the book. We've had the conversation before. We went to a concert last year where the speaker was trashing foster care. Her feelings were hurt as were mine.  I keep telling her that she needs to write a book about her life. She says she wants to. Maybe one day we'll write one together.