Mom's Losing It!!

When we finally reach the end of our homeschool days and our seventh child graduates from high school (who, given her current level of energy and the width of her damage path, is obviously geared toward either catastrophic world domination or the colonization of Mars), I wil have been at this for a grand total of thirty years. THIRTY. I am tired just thinking about that number. My mother retired from teaching in the public school system with just a couple more years than that. I'm thinking that's quite enough, thanks much. I'll go volunteer at a funeral home after that, where it's quiet and my charges don't talk back.

Yes, today was one of  **those** days. How could you tell? You know, when I have my homeschool retirement party the week after that last graduation, I already know what the theme will be. Let's recap today's highlights and see if you can guess. 

Child: "Mom, I don't get this."

Mom: "What are the directions asking you to do?

Child: "I don't know."

Mom: "Read the directions to me."

[Child reads directions clearly]

Mom: "Now what do you need to do?

Child: "I dunno."

Mom: "What did the directions say?"

[Child repeats directions]

Mom: "So what do you need to do?"

Child: "I dunno."

[Mom explains directions slowly and in English, pointing to dictionary to reference any ill-understood words, then looks into child's eyes for some signs of life.]

Mom: "Doooooooooo thhiiiiiiiisssss."

Child: "But I don't get it."

Mom: "Read the directions."

Child: "I did."

Mom: "So what are you supposed to do?"

[Child explains assignment with precision regurgitation of mom's instructions.]

Mom: "Great! So do that."

Child: "Do what?"

Have you guessed the theme? This has now happened with three of my seven children. It never gets less exasperating. It has become the padding in my cell. So it's only fitting that the theme of my homeschool momy retirement party be ...

"Who's On First?"

More than just a dog.

We said goodbye today to an old friend, a furry, gentle soul who has been as much a part of our family as our children for twelve and a half years. A tearful goodbye, for certain. It was not easy for me to coordinate messages, text conversations, email communication, and video chats between three states and two continents, just so all of the immediate members of our family could be aware of the sad events of the day. We all know this was goodbye "for good', and that this day had been approaching for a long while.

Tonight, as the padding of heavy, burdened paws on the hallway tile has been replaced with the clicking-on of the heater and the sniffles of little girls fighting emotions and sleep simultaneously, I'm reminded that this pain is temporary, even though it is deep. Our lives will continue without our beloved Jake, almost without interruption. Almost. Without him, there will be no wet nose to inspect our legs and feet every time we walk into the door. No deep brown eyes searching for love and just one more peanut butter cookie. No one to feed that last piece of garlic bread to, and as a heartbroken 8-year-old pointed out, no one to eat those pizza crusts the girls never finish because he loved them so much. No silent companion on walks down the road outside our house. No big, near-invisible-in-the-dark guard standing watch in the living room to trip over during the night. No ... those have all been replaced with this aching hole in our hearts that has filled with tears far too many times today.

Of course, all of us--the adult children in Maryland and Tennessee, the husband in Abu Dhabi on business, and all of us here at home know Jake is well deserving of this relief from his last few years of physical decline. We nearly lost him last Thanksgiving from a severe reaction to prescription flea treatment, and he has been tortured by those awful pests because the non-toxic treatments don't work. His joints have been growing increasingly more painful to him as he's aged, but this last month has been miserable. Our once strong, fast, and agile dog became weak, unable to stand without assistance, and was falling down almost as many times as he'd get up. It is agonizing to watch someone you love deteriorate physically, but when the only means of communication they have are those "old soul" eyes that just look straight through to your heart, and they scream for help, for understanding, and for relief, it breaks your heart. I have listened to him whimper and whine these last two days in pain from just getting up to get a drink of water, and I promised myself I would never let an animal get THAT bad.

That decision to call the vet was likely the most difficult decision I have ever made. I knew what it meant. I knew I'd have to take him there by myself, without his "daddy" there to offer him comfort or to do the same for me. I knew there was no going back. I knew I was making the call that would end his life. Nothing can prepare you for that. It's probably the worst part of being an adult, and I have been through some "stuff" in my forty years. No one else but me could make that decision. It ate me alive last night. I didn't sleep, because I knew what today was going to bring. I wanted to make the right decision. I didn't want to put him down too soon, but I didn't want him suffering, either. Mental anguish. Over a dog. Someone said today that "it's just a dog". Well, no, Jake was much more than that. He was OUR dog. He was the one we committed to caring for, in exchange for nothing but his unconditional love. And he deserved to have the end of his life treated with the utmost care and respect.

We sure will miss you, old boy. We have those memories to treasure, but none of them will ever come close to the real thing. It has been a pleasure being your family. Rest well.

Why has it come to this?

I have had a battle going on inside my head for several months now over whether or not I would broach this subject at all, but you know what? It needs to be broached, plowed through, ironed out, and buried in the compost pile where it belongs. I know someone is going to get their panties in a wad about it, but we need to talk about these things ... so let's put on our big-girl panties and deal with the wads as they come, shall we?

Sometime late last year, I mentioned on one of my random "this is my crazy life" status updates on Facebook that I'd essentially run myself through the wringer on what was one of my "Crazy Thursdays", and in a mental response to a flippant comment from another grocery store patron, I added that "no one had better say I'm not a working mother". Wouldn't you know it, someone I know in real life took MAJOR offense to this. Not just eye-rolling offense, but responding with a "You've GOT to be kidding me!!!" offense. She then proceeded to detail her own day, spent in the office and then doing various and sundry around-the-house "wifely and motherly" tasks when she returned home, as opposed to what she perceived as the simplistic day of a stay-at-home mom (who had not been home from 8am till 6pm). In the rather confusing dialogue that ensued (because I knew it was my statement that had her so upset, I attempted to explain that I in no way, shape, or form was attempting to take anything away from what she does), it became glaringly obvious that there is something very serious going on under the surface. Had I not just been told by that grocery store guy that "You'd better be glad you don't work!", I might have taken it a little better, but alas, I did not. And I was exhausted. From what, though, if I hadn't WORKED all day??

What defines a "working mother"? Better yet, what defines "work"? Desk work? Standing and teaching a class of twenty-five? Construction? Making sure all of the diners in a restaurant have full iced tea glasses? In the dead-end dialogue I had with the offended party, I learned that anything I said about what I had done during that day was taken as a direct insult on the sacrifice she and her family had made to have a career and a successful life. I couldn't win that battle, nor was I even trying, because I wasn't trying to take any of the respect or prestige away from her job-for-pay, and I was simply trying to gain the same respect for my chosen career-not-for-pay. My question is this: WHY, ladies ... WHY are we beating each other up over whether or not someone is "working", and why on earth would we EVER assume to say that what one of us does is work while the other one does not work, based solely on the single matter of a paycheck? Why do we DO that????

I, as a stay-at-home mother, do not envy those who work outside the home. Period. I wouldn't want it. It's not for me, I know that, and I'm perfectly okay with being "just a wife and mom". Yes, it requires certain sacrifices, and yes, I understand unequivocally that my choice is a PERSONAL one, based on not just personal beliefs, but personal convictions and personal preferences. I don't do "team player" well, and that doesn't lend itself well to a job that requires working with people. I know this, and to some extent, this played a big part of my CHOICE to occupy myself in the work I find in my own home and family. I do have convictions that cemented this decision, but they are MINE. I don't dare assert my convictions on others, because we are individuals! I do value the career (albeit unpaid in any form of income that is monetary) that I have chosen above any other I could have chosen, because I see the value in it to my own family. Does it mean I look down on other wives or mothers who have chosen other paths? Heavens, no! I know the vast majority of people in this world would not choose to be a stay-at-home mother of seven who homeschools while her husband frequently travels the globe for weeks on end. I know that! But ladies, just because I have opted out of spending six years in college to get a Master's degree in fill-in-the-blank (other than music and the challenge of being a combat pilot, nothing else ever interested me) and I don't spend my days at an office, in a classroom, or whatever else I may find to do, does NOT mean what I do all day is not "work". I absolutely guarantee you that I work--sometimes from sunup to long past midnight, and not just at "normal" tasks like laundry and dishes and getting a heater fixed while dealing with a belligerent home warranty company. I do some things--some for myself, some for my family, some for others--that I would never have the time or energy to do, were I putting in 40+ hours working somewhere else. I enjoy that 'luxury'.

Ladies, we have GOT to get past this idea that a paycheck defines work. We have got to stop thinking that because a woman has CHOSEN to stay at home taking care of her home and family full time, that she is somehow less successful or "busy" than a woman who works outside the home for a paycheck. It's ludicrous, and it's demeaning to the many girls and women who desire a simple domestic life. I can't even begin to tell you how much it hurt to have my oldest daughter be lectured over and over again when she graduated from high school about going to college and finding a "worthwhile career" and to be told she was "wasting her life" and "taking the lazy way out" simply because she desired to be "just" a wife and mom.

I'm not a feminist by any stretch of the imagination, but isn't it a bit self-defeating and completely hypocritical to say that a woman can be "anything she wants" as long as she "works", but yet we define work as something that brings in pay, instead of being honest work that can benefit a family in other ways? Why are we doing this to each other?

I don't have time for this!

A confession--I am a Facebook addict. It started with Facebook being an easy way to stay in touch with people we don't see every day. I'm not a texter. I also do not do phone calls well. I make, on average, ten phone calls a week--one of those being a LONG phone call to my mom. I might call Pete every now and then if I need to know when he's coming home or if he can run to the store on his way home. Thing is, I still like to know how people are doing. Facebook provides a decent format for me to do just that. I love seeing pictures of people's everyday lives; I love sharing in the little details of life, hearing little funnies, etc.

It is out of control. Seriously.

Well, this morning, upon logging on to Facebook, I found their "new and improved" format, and I have to say, it gave me a headache. I hate it. I get very easily distracted by "streaming" anything. So ... good opportunity to break that habit, right? YUP!!

I really do not have time for Facebook in my life, when it call comes down to the nitty-gritty details. I just have too much going on. And it's only going to get WORSE. It is almost the end of September, and ahead of us BEFORE Christmas, we have two three-week-long trips to Germany to send Pete on, a weeklong trip down to Florida for Thanksgiving, and a five-day visit from Pete's mom that we just found out about last night! Um ... can you say BUSY???? Nevermind there is also an anniversary in TWO DAYS, but also the last kid-birthday of the year and two MAJOR holidays to plan for. Oh, and school. And homeschool meetings, field trips, Bible classes, and now my newest venture--college classes.

Where does Facebook fit into this mess? It doesn't. There just isn't any room. Something's gotta give, and this headache/head-scratcher social media thing is it. I'll catch up at night with what everybody's doing. I have too much living to do!

Hello FALL!!!!!!

I know, we still have a week before it's "officially" Autumn (I'm all too familiar with the official arrival of Fall; it was the reason my wedding colors included teal and not aquamarine. Don't groan too loudly--it was 1989!), but considering how hot and steamy the weather has been in the last two months, we are REALLY ready for this. Fall came loudly to North Alabama last night with a strong but short-lived thunderstorm ahead of a rather powerful (yay!!!) cold front. When we got home from Bible study last night, the temperature inside the house was 82. When we woke up this morning, it was 70, and half of the windows were still closed to keep the rain out!!!

We have had a very dry summer. Not as dry as Texas, but still dry enough that the trees started to show signs of stress a few weeks ago. In fact, our catalpa tree out front has lost about half of its leaves already, and several of the trees in the back are almost completely yellow (and dried out). Today, though, with the gray and dreary cloud cover, the still-damp ground, and the brisk breeze, it looks like FALL!!!!

The view down the street. Just past our nextdoor neighbor's house is a hay field that was cut and baled this week!

In the backyard ...

Ooooooh, check out what ELSE I came across this morning!!!! I am actually a day ahead of the game, so I am seriously going to "play" this year!

I have some seriously intense crafting (sewing, actually) projects to get started on for Christmas but first I have to get my housecleaning finished so we can be ready for our End-of-Summer BBQ after church this Sunday! I'll be blogging about my sewing project, I have already had a couple of people on Facebook ask about it, I'll just have to be careful so the recipients don't sneak a peek! 

Today is a wonderful day to look ahead to all that the next couple of months brings, so I decided to sip my coffee from my CHRISTMAS mug this morning! Yes, I know, it's early. WAY early. I just wanna, ok??? 

Reality set in today.

I had one of those "lightning bulb" moments today. No brilliant ideas, no major epiphanies warranting major life-altering risks, but I was involved in a series of conversations today that made me realize that Pete and I are at that really odd point in our life together where we are reaping the consequences of our decision to reverse his vasectomy. In two hours' time, I helped my daughter-in-law to be finalize some frazzling and stressful plans for her wedding to my son this coming Saturday, and then learned that my oldest daughter has less than a month left here with us in Alabama before she "officially" leaves to join her husband following his graduation from Army advanced training.

By our 22nd wedding anniversary, Pete and I will have two married children, living in two different states, with our home somewhere in between. Our original little-family will cease to exist. No longer will we be able to expect to spend holidays with our son and oldest daughter. We now have to share. Don't get me wrong; I'm not sad about this in the slightest; this is exactly what we wanted for both of our children. We knew that we only get to hold on to them until they reach adulthood. We knew that all the mistakes we made as *really* young parents would be mistakes they would likely struggle with during their adolescence ... and they did. They rebelled; they tested limits; they looked to the world for things that the world ultimately could never give them. But now, today as we had real, adult conversations with our real-adult children, we realized we have reached the end of an era.

And it hit me like a brick ...

If we hadn't had that vasectomy reversal done, if we hadn't chosen to put our family size into God's hands, our hands-on parenting job would be over. Our nest would be empty! We would be "free" to do whatever we wanted to do. In all honesty, THAT was what made me sad. Not that I am tied down to these young girls for sixteen more years, but that our lives would be so much less interesting had we never been blessed with them! It may be odd to consider, but I couldn't help thinking that living "for me" would be so boring that I would drive myself batty! Sure, things would be calmer now; I could sleep in, garden to my heart's content, spend HOURS on the internet, keep a clean house ...

No thanks. I like where we are now. I like knowing that while Pete is away for his three-week business trips, I have five little someones keeping my mind and body busy all day, every day. I like the noise; I like the activity.

I am only 38 years old; I'm too young to live the life of a "retired" stay-at-home mom. Maybe after Kasey has graduated and all of the little girls have moved on to whatever God has planned for each of them, maybe THEN I'll be ready to sit back and quilt, follow Pete around the globe and sit in a hotel room for days on end while he works. Not now.

Arachnophobes beware!

I have never been, to ANY degree, a "fan" of creepy crawlies. Studying insects is not my favorite part of homeschooling. I squish anything that moves, most of the time. And SPIDERS? I dare say I have been turned into an instant-Ninja on many, many occasions by either walking into a spider web or finding one of the little creepy critters walking waaaaaay too close to me.

But right now, I am going way out of character. I am going to freak out anybody who has ever struggled with arachnophobia at all by posting some pictures of what we have found on our front porch this last week. I walked out to get the mail early last week and found this enormous (at least for my spider-o-phobic sensitivities) eight-legged creature spinning a web from the eave of our front porch. Scared the stew out of me. Thankfully I had a friend here at the house watching the girls during one of my numerous physical therapy appointments, and she informed me that it's a totally harmless "garden" spider, a golden orb weaver. The more I looked (gawked, in complete disbelief, would be a better description), the more I realized that this creature is truly beautiful. Just look at the coloration!

She's even pretty from behind! Here she is a couple of days after she showed up, finally munching on a spider that had gotten trapped in her web (her prey's body was the size of a June bug but had the markings of a brown recluse)

This wasn't an incredibly detailed picture, but I kind of like how the camera focused on the web from that odd angle ... and the way her legs are all curled up, WOW, she's scary looking from this side!

The girls have become a bit enamored with "Charlotte" (yes, they named her!), and they stop to say hello and goodbye every time they pass her on the porch. We decided a while ago that she needed to stay, especially since orb weavers are good at catching some bigger flying pests ... like wasps! So we'll let her stick around and catch bugs and spin her web on our porch. Today, Charlotte has a visitor ... a MALE visitor!

Just look at the size difference between Charlotte and her new beau! Methinks he may become lunch after ... well, um, after a while. <>

We are certainly "enjoying" the nature display that is going on right in front of us, but I'm not sure how I'll feel once there are a hundred or so (yes, I know ... probably a LOT more) baby spiders floating around. Better brush up on my Ninja skills, huh?

Oh, the really hilarious bit of irony? We started our new homeschool year today. I actually set up most of the lesson plans before the surgery, two months ago, so I only had to "grab and go" today ... and whaddaya know? Our very first scheduled read-aloud of the year?

Charlotte's Web.

Homemade Laundry Soap--a tutorial

Back in February, my curiosity (and boredom, maybe?) got the best of me and I decided I was going to try my hand at making our laundry detergent. With five children at home (and two of those five CHAMPION mess-makers) plus a hubby, I do a LOT of laundry. At my cheapest, I could only find us a 144-load box of Arm & Hammer laundry detergent for $8.99, and that lasted us on average about three and a half weeks. Not good enough. I'm cheap. So off I went searching for a powdered laundry soap recipe that I could make at home relatively simply. The Duggars' liquid detergent recipe was intriguing, but the idea of keeping a bucketload of soap that resembled egg drop soup around the tiny tornado who lives in this house was ... well, frightening. I found a powdered recipe, hunted down the ingredients, whipped up my experimental batch of soap and headed off to see if I could prove it unworthy of duplication.

Fail.

It worked beautifully. Not a single glitch in my laundry. I haven't found any more stains on my clothes, nor have I smelled any funky left-behind odors. I simply have clean, fragrance-free clothes! And, uh ... cost-wise, it was INCREDIBLE. I bought everything I needed to make it for less than $8. I used the last of that batch of detergent TODAY. No kidding--it lasted a family of seven for five and a half months! Wowsa! Wanna see? Well, here's what we did today to mix up our second batch.

First things first--the "easy" part. I combined a box of 20 Mule Team Borax in a big tub thing with a box of Arm & Hammer Washing Soda. Mine has been sitting a while, so it was a little clumpy. I used a potato masher to break up the clumps.

Once the powdery stuff was combined, I pulled out my bar of Fels Naphtha soap that has been opened and drying in my laundry room for a few weeks. It needs to be grated, so the drier the better. When I made the last batch, I used two bars of Ivory soap, and it seemed a bit gummy when I used my cheese grater (I use the smaller microplane-style grater normally used for parmesan cheese because of the smaller hole--it makes for a finer consistency); I let the Fels dry longer so it didn't gum up when it was grated. My helper Morgan wanted to grate the soap, and her progress after almost five minutes was pretty minimal, she got a bit exhausted.

We chocked the hand-grater and stepped it up a bit. I decided that the Fels was just too hard to grate by hand for Mo (and with my shoulder still on the mend, I wasn't going to even attempt it), so I got out a cutting board and chopped the bar into smaller chunks to put in the food processor.

Here's the consistency I ended up with after whizzing it around for about 30 seconds--perfect! Kind of resembled grits, or coarse cornmeal.

After the bar soap was grated, it was time to combine it all. It took some doing, but I managed to get it mixed up fairly well even with limited shoulder strength. I poured it all into the Rubbermaid container that I keep in the laundry room, and here it is, all full and happy, along with the coffee scoop I use to measure out just the right amount (two heaping tablespoons) per load.

And finally, all closed up, sitting on the laundry shelf ready to tackle the next load of dirties!

I need inspiration!

I'm finally starting to get back my ability to type without pain. It's WONDERFUL. I can't write with a pen on paper yet, at least not more than just a signature. Who knew how much of your shoulder it took to write??

At any rate, I've obviously fallen ridiculously behind in my blogging. I used to view it almost as a daily vitamin (or maybe an enema? LOL), one of very few "simple" things I can do every day to keep my mind focused and functioning on all eight cylinders. But with the craziness of the new year, my desire to do some bloggy reconstruction, and having my surgery moved up from when we figured it would be, other things took precedence.

I think I'm needing this daily vitamin once again. But now I'm finding myself with a ridiculously frustrating case of writer's block. Got any good bloggy reads you've found lately that you would like to share with me to offer inspiration? Do tell!

Bloggy overhaul for the new year--construction warning!

If you are one of the few folks who visit my blog occasionally, I must warn you--I have a renovating bug and a small (okay, nonexistent) budget, so my blog is going to be undergoing an overhaul.  I shall have some free time on my hands when hubby leaves for three weeks in Germany just after the new year, so.....blog I will!

Just a warning!  Proceed at your own risk!  LOL

My mission

... and I did choose to accept it, is to somehow re-create the (okay, I'm going to steal one of my teenage daughter's descriptions here) awesomeness of the little crusty, chewy bits of doughy goodness that we had in Germany.  There truly is NOTHING that compares to a warm brotchen with soft, salty, creamy butter slathered all over it.  Nothing.  And I'm determined to learn how to do it.

I have one German cookbook with a brotchen recipe in it, and I gave it my first try yesterday, with the hopes of accompanying a hearty German meal of bratwurst, sauerkraut (doctored, of course, as Pete's Oma showed me with bacon, onions, and apples), potato balls and a brown mushroom gravy.  Here's what I ended up with:

It was yummy enough, but the brotchen was all wrong.  I'm off to find another recipe that will work.

This is one of "those" weeks.

This is shaping up to be a "totally useless" week by all external standards, but if there is one thing I've learned over our years of home education, it is the value in looking beyond the academic learning to the "real life" learning--there is a huge relief in knowing that my children ARE learning very valuable lessons even if their math books remain untouched. 

Sunday evening, our little three-month-old puppy Sasha started showing signs of illness; by mid-day Monday, she had lost two pounds and was starting to look severely dehydrated from incessant vomiting.  Monday afternoon, she was diagnosed with parvo.  It wasn't what the vet considered an "extreme" case, so she sent her home after giving her fluids and medicine.  I spent most of the morning yesterday (Tuesday) trying to keep fluids in her and when she took a turn for the worse, there was only one other course of action--Sasha is now in the animal hospital, being given intravenous fluids and medication in hopes of keeping her alive and strong enough to fight off the virus. 

As if yesterday wasn't stressful enough, early in the morning we learned that one of our dear friends had been taken by ambulance to the hospital...and Pete called from the hospital last night to tell me that Josh had no brain function at all.  Our hearts are hurting, but this was a victory for a young man whose life was frought with suffering.  Josh was born with birth defects and developmental handicaps and wasn't expected to live very long; he outlived both his mother and his grandmother!  Taken in and cared for by his aunt and uncle, he has been struggling the last few years (since his grandmother's death) with what to expect in the afterlife.  It frightened him, and the idea of a new and perfect spiritual body, he said, scared him to death.  He feared being able to know people he didn't know here on earth, he feared seeing dead people alive again, and he feared seeing the face of God. 

Thankfully, death came quickly for Josh--one minute he was complaining that he couldn't feel or move his arms or legs, the next, he was blue and lifeless.  God truly knows what we can handle, and in His infinite wisdom and provision, He chose to let Josh pass from this life to the next quickly and without being challenged with the fears he didn't understand.  Josh has nothing left to fear; he is in the presence of his mother and grandmother, in paradise with our forefathers, waiting on the Lord to take us all to Heaven.  In a fitting end to his earthly life, his organs are being donated so that Josh's life may be a blessing to people he didn't even know, extending the reach of people this young man touched with his relatively short life.  What a blessing Joshua Lyle was...and will continue to be.

As I said before, this week has been just "too much" already, for us to continue unimpeded with daily schedules and lesson plans.  Sometimes academics have to take a back seat to life, and that's what has happened this week.  My girls are still learning, however.  We've had discussions of viruses, hygiene, caring for the sick, even death and Heaven.  We have wept with joy and with sorrow, all at the same time.  And in celebrating death, we are also celebrating life.

Today is another milestone for our family--the middle child of the younger 'set' is four years old today.  Morgan, Jamie, and I have had several discussions this week about making Danica's birthday special for her, since she is often the one who gets the short end of the stick in many things.  Dani is sandwiched between two sets of Irish twins, so she is "all alone" in the middle--neither one of the babies or one of the big girls.  It's difficult sometimes to find something that identifies her because she wants so much to fit in that she really doesn't express her favorites or what she "loves" like Morgan and Jamie do.  It's going to be challenging to make today extra-special for her, considering that a lot of the focus this evening at Bible study will be on Josh's family....but we're taking cupcakes for Dani to share with everyone, and she gets to choose what we have for dinner tonight.  This weekend, we're going to visit the zoo as a special treat for her birthday. 

Happy Birthday, Danica Jill!!!

One week left!

I can't believe how pathetic I feel about this whole separation thing.  I mean, come ON--Pete has been deployed to war zones and we've gone MONTHS without hearing from him, why is it that five weeks is this much of a problem for me?

Because it just is.  And I'm okay with that.  I'm okay with the fact that I really, truly do MISS my husband.  I feel disconnected from him and therefore from myself.  I feel out of place everywhere I go.  I'm lonely.  But for the first time in my married life, I am giving myself permission to FEEL it.  During the war, I had to be the strong, rock-solid one that two dozen blubbering and sometimes clueless military wives (and one mom that I will never, EVER forget) called on at all hours of the day  for six solid months.  I had to be the one that everyone else drew strength from; I had to be the one who told everyone else that it would be alright, that they really could survive; I was the one who lived the independent, stony exterior while on the inside I was just falling apart, day after day.  I HURT from the loneliness, and it was anything but healthy to allow myself to do that.  I'm not going to do that anymore.

No, Pete isn't going to war zones--yet--the United Arab Emirates next year is still one that I'm undecided on as far as his safety goes.  But he's still not here with me, and I can't deny the fact that it really does cause me emotional pain for him to be gone.  I truly cannot WAIT till he gets off that plane next Friday!  No, not because I want to run away from the kids and get some peace.  Well...okay, I *do* need at least a slight break where I can go somewhere by myself and just enjoy a little bit of solitude, but that's not why I'm looking forward to having him home again!  Why is it that people seem to think that when you have a large family, all your husband is good for to you is 'babysitting' and household chore-sharing?  Why is it that I'm not allowed to be lonely and just need to have my beloved here with me where I can see him and talk to him face-to-face?  I am no different from any other woman who misses her man--I'm glad we're on our last six days!

That said, I'm expecting quite a week ahead of us!  I just received a free Christopher Columbus unit study from The Old Schoolhouse Magazine's Teacher's Toolbox so I think we're going to slightly 'interrupt' our regular history study for a week to study Columbus--leading up to a pretty amazing 'field trip' to Guntersville next Saturday *with Daddy* to see replicas of the Nina and Pinta!  I'm hoping to be able to swing a few minutes' time tomorrow evening to get my dining room curtains sewn and hung.  It shouldn't take long; a couple of straight stitches and a few screws should do the trick!  I really wanted to get the opportunity to get my paint touch-ups done, but considering I'm never really without ten extra hands--some of which REALLY love to get "involved" in whatever Mom is doing, that just never happened.  Other than the paint and the curtains, the dining room for now is DONE and I'm quite pleased with how it looks!  When Pete is home and I don't feel so odd about having a repairman in the house while I'm alone with five little girls, we'll have the fireplace opened up (for the first time in over nine years, from what I'm told!) and serviced so we can enjoy a nice warm fire. 

Next week's other main project?  The master bedroom.  It's horrific, there's no better way to put it.  I sleep in it and dress in it; that's pretty much the extent of what's been done behind those walls this last month.  Eek!

Today was pretty rough, but tomorrow, I'm expecting to have that last-week 'high' hit me as I kick into gear to get ready for Pete to come home!  Yay!

Complicated Woman's Daybook

It's not Monday and there is NOTHING simple about my life right now. 

Not.  A.  Thing.

I have felt for the last few days as if my brain is playing a solo game of Rock, Paper, Scissors just to figure out what to do next.  Yes, having a set of grand plans does help time pass faster--especially when you have a deadline set for yourself to get all of it done in.  There is no way on this earth that I am going to be able to accomplish everything I have set before myself.  In fact, I don't think I could even do it with God's help.  Well, okay, maybe if the Lord Himself came down and moved a few boxes, sure.  But ME?  There just isn't enough of me.

That's a lesson I've not learned adequately, I fear.  Perhaps that is why I find myself gasping for breath under the weight of a to-do list that I've burdened my own self with?  I can't even organize a blog post, for crying out loud!  How about if I borrow the format from one of my standard Simple Woman's Daybooks?

What have I been wearing?  Anything that I can dig out of the pile that is clean.
What's it like outside?  The grass is taking over; it's beginning to resemble the African savannahs out there; in fact, I think I heard Simba roar at sunset!
From the kitchen?  Oh my...do NOT go in there.  You may fall into the dishes that don't fit into the dishwasher.
From the learning rooms?  Well, they're learning.  Working daily on math, working daily on reading; Morgan can even sound out a few street signs and Jamie was sorting 87 silly bands that she picked up from the schoolroom floor into groups of ten.  We're reading (thank you, Sonlight, for your "here, read THIS" schedule), but the structured, "this looks like school" lessons just aren't happening.  Thankfully, my kids thrive in the midst of chaos and I think they're learning *more*.  How is that possible?
On my mind?  Way too much.  My hubby's on my mind; my son in Afghanistan is on my mind (did I mention that he told me in a chat the other day that he wasn't sure he wanted to come home on R&R????); my oldest daughter's future is on my mind; STRESS is on my mind.
What am I reading?  I don't even remember.  That's probably not a good thing.

Life has gotten far too complicated lately.  Funny how getting TO the simple requires going through some seriously complex purging processes.  They are not particularly enjoyable processes, I'll say that.  And they are not processes that one should undertake lightly.  These purging processes require ALL of you.

All of me is very tired.  And lonely.  And mentally beaten-down.
I know where I need to go.

"Safe in the arms of Jesus, safe on His gentle breast; there by His love o'ertaken, sweetly my soul shall rest."

Picture thought?  How about this one?  No explanation neccessary--it is what it is.



Yikes.

I'm doing!

"So, how are you doing?"
"I'm doing!"

The fact of the matter is that I'm too busy to have a "good day, bad day" mentality!  I'm just "doing", not doing well or doing badly.  Isn't that where life is lived?  In the middle of the good and the bad?

If I chose to focus on the negative in my life, I could easily find plenty that would make me feel horrible about even the good things.  Conversely, if I chose to reside in the cloud-9 philosophy of life where everything is hunky-dory and nobody has any cares or worries, I'd be kidding myself.  I've got plenty! 

HOWEVER....I don't want to overlook the good OR the bad.  It's in the trials that we grow; it's in the warmth of the sun (or should that be the Son?) that we find rest and refreshment.  We really do need both!

Three days down, 32 to go.

I'm officially pathetic--in my mind, at least.  I have made it through five deployments, an 11-month separation, numerous field exercises, and several month-to-two-month-long schools.  I sailed through all of those with flying colors.  My sanity remained intact; I did not turn into one of those mushy wives who gush over every little thing they miss about their hubby.  Basically, I kept my dignity! 

This time, not so much.  I'm finding myself in a strange situation--I'm lonely.  I don't quite know what to do with that, to tell you the truth.  Believe it or not, it's new.

I'm certainly not lacking in the stuff-to-keep-me-busy department by any stretch of the imagination.  Between the girls' schooling, household tasks, church activities, and now bouncing back and forth between the real and the virtual in my communication both to my husband and my son...I'm definitely not bored. 

In case that wasn't enough, I've added two more projects to my plate--while Pete is gone, I'm going to get the office/guest room/playroom DONE.  Yes, DONE.  I am bound and determined to rid us of the cardboard boxes that have followed us around for, uh...way too long, and they're going to be out of here when he gets back.  Pete has a bit of a pet peeve about organization and everything being "in its place", but it's a love-hate relationship.  He loves to be organized, but hates to be the one to DO the organizing.  So...in the last eight months, as a direct result of his rather haphazard "filing" system, we've had to have not one but TWO copies of his birth certificate made and sent to us from Florida.  That expense has made me all too aware that the poor man really needs a secretary.  I guess that's me, huh? 

Thanks to a clearance sale at Wal-Mart (I have no idea why this stuff is going on clearance, other than maybe it's not selling?), I now have a bunch of nice matching boxes, magazine holders, and filing trays to put in the new metal shelf that I got for his office stuff.  I've got a LOOOOOONG way to go, and a huge part of getting this office space done is getting the 37-gallon fish tank moved from what is now Kelsey's room (where the office used to be) into the bonus room where the office is now.  That is no small task.  I don't look forward to it.  But alas, it still needs to be done.  The fish will be happier, the tank needs a little TLC and some fresh filters, and I might even pick up a few new fish once the job's done!

Ah yes, the *other* task.  The girls' room.  Right now, Morgan and Jamie's bunk beds are separated because I don't have the foggiest idea where the hardware is to stack them (thanks again to Pete's "filing" system), so even though she's sleeping through the night and on the same bedtime schedule as the rest of the girls, Kasey is still sleeping in our bedroom.  She will be evicted as soon as I can find that hardware!  The girls all have Tinkerbell bedding now--even the crib and the two toddler beds (it is SOOO cute, but I'm going to make you wait for pictures!), but they want to paint!  Guess what--we're going to PAINT before that crib goes in there.  Since they all wanted "their" color (Morgan--pink, Jamie--purple, Dani--blue, Shelby--green), I told them that I've decided that the walls need to be a soothing shade of aquamarine that is one of the pretty accent colors in all of their bedding.  They seem to think that's a pretty good idea now!  Yay for Mom and diplomacy!

At any rate, my clock (and the calendar too!) is ticking.  I'm going to do my level best to focus on the positive and remember that while yes, I am lonely and I do miss my hubby, life is just way too short to brood and wallow.  I've got teenagers all around me who are doing far too much of that already!

Oh yes, I just thought I'd include a couple of pictures I snapped (with my new camera) at the airport on Friday.  The one of Kelsey with Dad's carry-on has got to be one of my favorite pictures--I'm not even sure why, but the story it tells, the detail...it's just a great picture!

It's September, really?

It can't be.  Sure doesn't FEEL like September!  Still feels positively sauna-ish here in Northern Alabama. 

However, the calendar doesn't lie.  We are officially on the year's downward slope, and all will pick up speed from here, racing toward the holidays and year's end.  We shouldn't be but a couple of weeks away from hearing Christmas music playing in the stores!

I need to put my calendar and planbook away.  It's scaring me.  I think the stress is really starting to creep up on me; between having a son in Afghanistan, having a daughter plan (and reschedule, and reschedule again) a wedding, a husband going to Europe for five weeks....my plate overfloweth.

I'd planned on taking an internet (and blog) hiatus this week to refocus, but refocusing proved detrimental at this present juncture.  Reality is overwhelming!

Is this a case of "be careful what you ask for"?

On Friday, we'll be taking Pete to the airport for the first of what looks to be MANY overseas (and some domestic) trips for this new job of his.  I have already had several people tell me that they just don't know how I'll manage; and I'll admit, when I look at it on a calendar or I really *think* about the fact that my husband will be away from home for 36 days, it's a tad overwhelming to consider.  However, this really isn't all that bad, considering the separations we have been through in the past.  Six-plus months of nearly no contact except an occasional (maybe every other week at most) ten-minute phone call with my husband while maintaining a household and shuffling two [very] active preteens from one ball game to another (sometimes two at the same time a mile apart!) was more than enough to prepare me for the relatively short time frames he'll be gone now that he's transitioned to this job of his dreams!  Besides, he's going to Germany, not a war zone!

I definitely can't begrudge him this door that God just flung open wide for Pete to do what he's been wanting to do since he saw the Lockheed guys with the squishy job all those years ago in Saudi Arabia.  He *is* that guy now.  And as I'd hoped and prayed for, the children and I are settled in the place we love to be, in a home that is far more than we ever hoped for, and we have a wonderful church family for support.  God has definitely given us both the desires of our hearts, and then some!  So why on earth would I be anything but thrilled about what we HAVE?  Yes, my husband and I will be separated; yes, the girls are going to have a bit of a shock being away from their dad for the first time (for more than a week), but it's really not all that bad.

I do, however, reserve the right to give my hubby just a *wee* bit of a hard time about how WELL he's going to be living while he's away....first class flight?  Come on, don't you think that's a BIT over the top?

Addictions?

I used to think that an internet addiction could easily be a side effect of someone who just had way too much time and little to do IN that time...and then came blogging.  And Facebook.  Suddenly, this mom, whose time was already in short supply and high demand, was drawn by some irresistible pull toward a screen and a keyboard.

I'll be the first to admit that there are FAR better things for me to be doing.  But here I sit.  Why?  Is it a need to connect to other people?  Sure...but I already do that in real life.  Maybe not enough?

Do you feel alone and dejected if no one comments on your blog posts or your Facebook status updates or notes?  Why do we feel that way?  And WHY can't we pull ourselves away from this addictive little box?

Stepping it up!

About three years ago, as I was broadening my scrapbooking horizons, I challenged myself to use just whatever pictures I ended up with when my film was developed.  Yes, I said film.  You know, that stuff that came in a little can that we poked into the backs of "old school" cameras and paid through the nose to wait a week to see what our pictures looked like?  Film.  I had some atrocious pictures, I'll tell you.  With a bunch of wiggly little girls, I had a lot of blurry shots.  So I decided to do a "What Irks Me" layout, inspired by an "about me" scrapbook that I saw in a Creating Keepsakes book.  The result was amusing, but as I was placing the completed page in my scrapbook, it really irked me (hence, the title) that I had SO many bad printed pictures.

I made the switch then to digital photography, beginning my journey with a little Sony CyberShot that I found on the clearance shelf of our PX in Germany for about thirty dollars less than its retail price.  Not bad, and the pictures I got from that little camera have kept me pretty well satisfied over the last few years.

Until now, that is.  I've been fighting the urge for quite some time, actually.  About the time Kelsey started talking about pursuing photography as a career and using her college money for photography classes, I've had to squelch the tiny little shred of growing desire to study photography myself.  After all, it's not like I have time for actual classroom study! 

However, Kelsey never did go that route.  And my interest has been building...and building....and building.  My satisfaction with the 'average' pictures I can take, given my camera's limitations, has been dropping significantly.  I picked up my "old" 35mm a few weeks ago and popped in a roll of film, hoping to get better shots with it than I could with my digital.  The pictures I had developed yesterday were depressing.  Soooo.......I did what Pete has been subtly suggesting I do for quite some time.  I came home with a not-so-basic DSLR Nikon D3000 yesterday.  It's not the top of the line, it doesn't have all the BIG bells and whistles; it doesn't even have the telefoto lens.  But it's already got enough of a challenge for me that I really have no CHOICE but to learn the technicalities that might as well be Egyptian heiroglyphics at the moment. 

One step at a time.  I need to get the battery charged first!