Reminder

Almost one year ago, I wrote about how guilty I felt for receiving gobs and gobs of May baskets but not passing any out. The comments on that post flabbergasted me. It turns out that there are people in the world, the United States even, who have not ever had the pleasure of having popcorn and candy delivered to their doorstep. Some people have not heard of May Day.

Being the bloggy dork that I am, I put a reminder to myself in my PDA for April 29th 2008, "Write a post about May Day". I took it upon myself to be the voice of this overlooked holiday. Consider yourself reminded. On the first of May, gather your children around you. Craft yourselves some vessels using all of your construction paper, gluestick-craftiness. (0r use plastic cups) Fill them with popcorn and candy, then deliver them to the doorstep of a friend, ring the doorbell, and run away. Seriously. That's what it's all about. You may not receive any May baskets yourself the first year, but get the tradition going and you will eventually be flooded with more candy than you can consume. Actually, I'm not sure that there IS an amount so large that the Laundry Pile family would have leftovers the next day. Side note: I have heard tell of families who still have Halloween candy left uneaten in January or parade candy still sitting around come November. What is that all about? Weirdos.

So there you go. A May Day reminder to you all and to myself. I will eat my (the kids') candy without guilt this year because this year I will be a giver, not just a taker.

Ferns

You look like pocket sized dragons.
Or maybe little green elves, standing, stretching,
and yawning in slow motion.
You might want to crawl back in bed little buddies,
it's pretty cold out here.
Hit the snooze for a few more days.

Cheer

Thank you for all the virtual pancakes, Twinkies, frosting, permission to nap, and well wishes. They worked. I feel ten million, gazillion times better. My mom delivered chicken and noodles with mashed potatoes.

Miracle food.

She also took my littlest ones off of my hands for a few hours on Thursday afternoon. While I took advantage of the silence and lounged on the couch, I was pleasantly surprised by a delivery to my front door. My sister-in-law had sent me a bouquet of sunshine from half way across the country. I smile every time I look at them.

You guys are the best.

Numbers

School was canceled today due to flash flooding. Let's do a little math of our own.

• Number of worms rescued from the street: at least 40
• Number of pairs of muddy boots on my deck: 8
• Number of times the mud people have had to change clothes: 3
• Number of times I have yelled to keep the mud outside: lost count
• Number of baths taken so far: 7
• Number of loads of laundry waiting to be washed: 9
• Number of timeouts given: lost count
• Number of times the words "I'm bored" has been uttered: lost count
• Number of pans of bars made by a bored teenager: 1
• Number of bars I plan to eat: not telling

I'm Too Tired To Think Of A Title

I am tired.

Deep down in my bones tired.

I've let myself get really run down and I can't believe I didn't see it coming. A recipe for exhaustion:

• Donate blood
• Don't drink enough water
• Run
  
• Don't get enough sleep
• Run
• Go on a field trip with Kindergarteners
  
• Run at the crack of dawn. In the rain.
  

This will eventually manifest itself in a severe lack of energy, a bit of a cold, and a touch of mastitis. Good times.

I feel so far behind, I have a million things to do. I have a million blog posts to read. Ok, not really, only 229. But that's a lot.

My body is trying to get my attention and I'm going to listen. It's telling me to take a warm shower, put my pajamas back on, ignore the housework, and snuggle with my kids on the couch. I think it also mentioned something about eating pancakes.

I Need an Apron

I am so proud of myself.

I made homemade bread.

If I was to confess, I would have to tell you that making bread has always scared me. The yeast seemed almost magical and I have always been afraid of it. I knew I would mess it up. The bread would either spill out of the pan, yeast going crazy and bubbling everywhere like the Thing from the swamp. Or maybe it wouldn't rise at all and I would have a loaf of bread resembling a rock, useful only as a door stop.

I've made it before but it has always involved a bread machine. In the machine it's practically foolproof and easy on the arms. Recently, I got a little braver and started using the bread machine just to mix it and then I would take the dough out, put it in a loaf pan and bake it in the oven. It made for a better shaped loaf, one that is a little more horizontal than vertical. Saturday I took my homemaking skills to the next level and made it all my myself, just me and my muscles. Kneading was kind of fun.

There was flour everywhere.

The best part? The smell of baking bread wafting through the whole house. Even better than that? A warm slice slathered with butter. Almost worth selling your birthright for, if you have a birthright to sell.

If the marathon is in October, I can
start carbo-loading now, right?

The Plunge

It's official. I signed up for my first marathon this morning. 26.2 miles. October 5th. The countdown has begun.

The first line of the release form reads: " I know that running a road race is potentially hazardous activity."

Oh good gracious, what have I done?

A Ballad

A song for my new hair color. The one I always come back to even after there have been others.
My true love, despite it's frequent unfaithfulness, Red.



Timmy T said it best when he sang:

It's been a long time since you left me
I didn't mean to make you cry
I didn't mean to disappoint you
I didn't mean to tell you lies

And after all that we have been through
won't you let me tell you why

One more try, I didn't know how much I loved you
one more try, let me put my arms around you
living all these lonely nights without you
oh baby can we give it one more try

Oh RED, you know I love you

I just want you to know

our love I'll always treasure

so please, just ever go.

Hungry

This morning my kids complained that we didn't have anything good to eat. This is a daily occurrence. They have a short list of kid approved cereals, all containing massive amounts of sugar, marshmallows, chocolate, and artificial fruit flavors. They don't like the selection I offer. I sent them off to school, tummies full of toast and milk and in a few hours they will eat a school lunch of chicken nuggets, mashed potatoes and gravy, a tea roll, and apricots. After I pick them up I will listen to wailing about how hungry they are and how they need an after school snack but it better be a good one. (translated: sugar) Tonight for supper it's something with chicken, yet to be decided. And then dessert.

I have been reading a book that was passed on to me by a dear friend. I'm about 3/4 of the way done with it and it's called "It's Not Ok With Me" by Janine Maxwell. An couple excerpts from the back cover:

"This book is not for the faint of heart."

"...she found herself standing face to face with the AIDS pandemic and trying to understand what to do with 15 million orphans who are left in it's wake. Her story is brutally honest and will take you straight to the heart of the issue of Africa's great need."

I have read page after page of horrific stories. I have tried to understand the depth and the width of the need. I read of children digging in the trash for food and I still had no concept of what that really means.

Then a few days ago, God grabbed my heart in the middle of my ordinary daily life. I was driving back home from dropping the kids off at school. As I pulled up to a stoplight I noticed that I was right behind one of our city's garbage trucks. It had obviously just made a stop at Subway, there were numerous bags, cups, and napkins bearing the restaurant's logo. It had just crushed the trash in preparation for the next stop. I sat there at the light, eyes fixed and unmoving on a river of liquid trickling down the bed of that truck bed. I was frozen as I watched that river of slime. I was safe behind my windshield with my windows up so I didn't even catch a whiff of what had to be a putrid smell. My heart started to awaken and I pictured my children digging through that refuse looking for their next meal. I willed myself to let my mind continue on that train of thought, as difficult as it was. I pictured them standing ankle deep in that trickle of sludge, reaching in and digging around in it, searching for a piece of bread or a scrap of meat thrown away by someone at Subway. I was sick to my stomach.

Of course it didn't escape me that this would be considered upper class trash compared to what the homeless, parentless children of the world are digging though right this minute. Subway? Come on. The slum of Kipsongo doesn't have a Subway. What kinds of things are these children standing in while they look for a meal? What kinds of things are these children of God eating?

It's heartbreaking. It's unfathomable. My children have no idea what they have.

God, why? What would you have us do?

For My Records

April 9th

The first worm of the 2008 earthworm season.
Three days later it snowed.

A Rockin' Friday Night

We know how to party at the Laundry Pile house. It's Friday night and what are we doing? I'll tell you. We are watching old Sesame Street clips on You Tube. I give you two of my favorites. This first one CRACKED ME UP when I was a young lass. My sister and I died laughing every time we saw Ernie do his fish call. I'm not exactly sure what we thought was so funny.




Then there were the Yip Yip aliens. You want to talk about trauma! These guys freaked me out so. much. Go ahead and watch it, but I'm warning you, you might have bad dreams tonight.

Thursday is Random Day

It's time for a good old melting pot of topics dontcha think? It's the soup of blogging, throw in a bunch of miscellaneous ingredients and call it a post.

How about in list form, that's even better! And slightly more organized.

• Today is rainy and windy and blah. I have a whole lot of things I should be doing but I'm finding myself sitting at the keyboard with a big mug of coffee, putting off my to-do list. Next up? Put on socks. My toes are cold. I'm ambitious, I know.
• I made Peanut Butter Banana Chocolate Chip muffins for breakfast and they are fantastic. If you use mini muffin tins, they are just the right size to eat more and not feel quite as guilty.
• Tyler got glasses. When he put them on for the first time he said "WOW! Everything is really clear!" Poor kid. Couldn't see much and didn't know it.
  
• This post really spoke to me. I think if we all extended each other a little more grace, the mommy wars would be history. And go cheer Jenni on, she is one day from holding her sweet, sweet baby!
• Toby is crawling. If that's what you want to call it. Picture this. Little baby bum planted firmly on the floor, one leg indian style, the other knee upright with that foot flat on the floor. Mr. Boot Scoot'n Booty then uses said foot to scoot himself around where ever he wants to go. I wish you could see it in person, it's hilarious. Forget about wearing out the knees of his pants, he going to wear out the tushie!

Ok, that's all. And how about a picture of my new haircut? This is me in my element, completely multitasking. Talking on the phone and taking a picture. Next week I get color. YAY!

Signs Of Spring

I feel like the groundhog not only saw his shadow but also the shadow of all of his sisters, brothers, cousins, and close friends. Spring is taking a long time to show up around here. Every few days we get a glimpse of what is to come but then we are teased with threats of snow flurries and wind that chills to the bone. There are a couple signs of spring that are unmistakable and tell of the impending change in the weather, despite the temperature outside.

I present exhibit A:

Little peep toe wedges that are so adorable they are practically edible. Add in a glimpse of painted toddler toenails and it's enough to send me into a diabetic coma. As much as I love shoes for myself, I love shoes for my girls EVEN MORE. I know. It's mind blowing, really.


Exhibit B:

My Mom's bathroom. If you should ever happen to drop by my parents house say, mid March to early April, and you have "gotta go" you might think you walked into the wrong room. You would be met with all the signs of a green house. Mom starts seeds for her fantastic flower gardens and grows them in the sunniest room in their house. Right to the left of the toilet. I love it. It's refreshing. And surprisingly cheerful for a bathroom.



If only a peek out the window would reveal as much green and less brown. But it's coming. I know it is.

Another few weeks and the brown will become this.

YAY!

April Fool's Day , Three Days Later

Last April Fool's Day I got them good. I made cupcakes for supper. The cupcakes were actually meatloaf with colored mashed potatoes for frosting. If that isn't disappointing, I don't know what is. The kids thought it was hilarious and the bar was set high. What in the world was I going to do this year? I guess I could have served real cupcakes for supper with the kids suspecting that they were made of meat and then Surprise! they are real cupcakes.

So I put together a mystery dinner. I made up a menu for the children to order their three courses from. It was a simple meal: grilled cheese, tomato soup, crackers, carrot sticks, ranch dressing, jello, and milk. I made the jello ahead of time and poured it into drinking glasses complete with a straw and then put it in the fridge to get jiggly. Oh, and there were cupcakes too. Real ones.

So basically, the kids filled out the menu and placed their orders. Only the food choices were all disguised with a different name. "Messy", "Hot Moon", "Jiggly", "Slurpey", etc. The silverware and napkin were included on the list. Once their orders were placed, Nate and I slipped behind the sheet we had hung across one side of the kitchen and began our mischievous plan. A plan that did not involve the clothes hanger in the middle of the floor. What in the world??!!

We taped up all of their orders.

And tried to keep it all straight.

The jist of it was that what ever you got for the first course, you ate, and then we cleared your dishes and nothing carried over. For example, for the first course one child ended up getting a spoon, a fork, some ranch dressing, and jello. He then had no silverware for the rest of the meal because we took it away with his first course. It was hilarious and I would highly recommend it. Each time we brought a plate out from behind the sheet, we were met with anticipation and a round of laughter. We will be doing this again for sure.

Somehow Jack managed to order a cupcake for round one. Of course he did.

A Pay At The Pump Milestone

Maybe I need to take Nate up on his crazy idea of buying a fleet of mopeds. I can picture it now, the Laundry Pile Family flying down the highway on the way to Sunday morning church as a pack, nine mopeds strong.

With helmets of course.

A Deadly Mistake Averted

I stood in Target, mesmerized by the cuteness of shower curtains. They were on sale! There was a certain one that was calling out to me. It was bright, and fun, and...made out of fabric.

I reached for them, holding one in my arms, longing to put it in my cart. I had been wanting to spice up my bathroom a little bit. And then I remembered.

I have four boys.

Let's all stop for a minute and ponder the gravity of that statement in relationship to all things bathroom.

I suddenly realized the foolish path I was about to embark on. You see, our shower is in very, very close proximity to the toilet. I have found myself using antibacterial wipes to wipe down the plastic shower curtain daily. My sons need a lesson, a lesson in aiming.

And so I put the pretty cloth shower curtain back safely on the shelf.

Can you imagine? *gag*

The Crying. THE CRYING!

I love watching The Biggest Loser.

I am touched when I see a man cry.

But not EVERY SINGLE WEEK!

Tonight I knew I had reached a new insensitive low when Mark was breaking down (again) and they panned back to a far away shot as he stepped off the scale and all I could think about was Allison's shoes. I was begging the tv for a close up of those shoes.

Who's the Biggest Loser? Obviously me.