The Domino Effect

I think one of the reasons we as moms get so distracted is because of the domino effect.  You are familiar with it, I'm sure.  It happens when you begin one task which then causes another to be put on your list, and when you are busy taking care of that "one task" you see three more that need immediate attention.  An example:

I took a load of laundry downstairs to be washed and immediately saw the 3 other loads already waiting to be put in the machine. 

I also saw the two throw rugs Hubby tossed down there.  I decided to get those rugs done first and shook them out before tossing them in.  One of them scattered sand and dirt all over the floor.

While down there, the boys asked me to get the Playmobil Airport down for them.  We keep it up because it's one thing we want to remain as a special activity, only being used occassionally.  So I pulled it off the top shelf only to see tiny mouse poopies on it. 

Gross.

Had to go upstairs to get the disinfectant.  Back downstairs, wipe down the airport, tell the boys to wash their hands.  Go back to sweep up the sand and dirt from the throw rug.

Re-sort the pile of laundry because apparantly I'm the only one who can decipher what the piles mean.  My loving family members see a pile and just add to it. They don't understand the complexities of laundering clothes.  You can't wash jeans with white socks!  Well...actually you could if you wanted to.  I don't want to.  So the re-sorting begins. 

Upon finishing that task, I see the totes full of clothes for the boyos that REALLY NEED ATTENTION!  So many are hand-me-downs, for which I am grateful.  But there are way too many.  I have been meaning to get to this project all summer.  *sigh*  I pass by, choosing to put if off just a bit longer.  Choosing to finish my coffee with Hubs.  Choosing to read a little more.   But I put the task on the top of my mental list knowing full well it will be the first domino to fall. 

I wonder where it will take me?

GAS!

Oh, what I wouldn't give for it. 

In my stove that is.  I learned to cook on a gas stove and oven.  And in every home I've had since I moved out, I've been cursed with an electric.  I will let the world know,

 I hate electric stoves! 


There. I've said it.  **sigh**  I feel better.

Look at that glow...

I want a gas oven so badly.  It's so much easier to control the heat, and...well,...I just like them better!


So there!


I have been known to pick up the pot with one hand and fan the hot burner with a hot pad held in the other hand.  While blowing madly.  Yep, looks pretty ridiculous.  How else can you get the heat down to a simmer without scorching the bottom of the pot?!?


Although I did eventually learn the trick of getting the pot to boil on one burner, then moving it to another cooler burner for the simmer time.  Clever huh?  Oh it would be so much easier with a gas stove.


I hate electric stoves!


Even my camper has a gas stove top!  I'm so spoiled when we camp.  I'm in cooking heaven!  Ok, I exaggerate slightly.  It is tiny and cramped, but it does have 3 burners that use gas.  Propane.  Same principal. 

More Even Cooking.


My rant for the day has ended.

Reflecting...and refilling

I hate the sneak attacks.  The ones that hit out of nowhere.  I've written about this before, but I guess I'm still searching for an answer.  If I understood why this happened, I could handle it better.  But then it wouldn't be a sneak attack.  And if I could handle it better, it wouldn't be depression.  I've heard the clinical reasons so many times.  "It's not you, it's your body chemistry."  And then the loving reminders, "Are you taking your meds?"  But this doesn't help me UNDERSTAND!  And that's all I want.  To understand.  I feel like M'Lynn from "Steel Magnolias" when she is in turmoil at the graveside of her daughter.  Her face is twisted in pain and anger as she beats her fists in the air, screaming, "I want to know WHY?!  WHY?!"  I thank God I am not dealing with the death of a child, but my question remains the same.  WHY?!

When Satan gets a foothold, he has a heyday. My downward spiral looks something like this. 

My mothering techniques are lacking.  I need to do more with my children.  The public school no longer has them.  I now have them.  How come I cannot find anything to do with them?  Other mothers have them all year and always find things to do.  What is wrong with me as a mother?  I used to be so creative. 

My writing techniques are lacking.  In fact they stink.  Other bloggers do so much better than me.  Other women find their work(s) published and useful and admired.  Mine will never be.  Another dream never realized.  I have no discipline. 

My homemaker skills are lacking.  I can't stick to writing menus.  When I do have a menu I don't follow it because I don't "feel" like it.  My ironing pile grows and grows.  It mocks me every day.  My floors are sticky to the point of the boys complaining!  There are pile of crap and junk all over the place.  I can't find the joy in my home.

I don't think I'll ever understand.  Not in the way I wish to understand.  No answer can be given other than,  "It's your body chemistry.  Let yourself be and 'this too shall pass.'"   These kinds of days come and go, along with the days that are full of joy and success.  Maybe I really need to look in the mirror and sing to myself the song Hubs and I often sing to the boys.  "You can't always get what you want.  But if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need!"  Thank you, Rolling Stones.

here

What I need is patience...for myself.  What I need is to train my mind to reflect on the good days.  What I need is to listen to Hubs.  What I need is to know that I am forgiven.  What I need is to soak in the grace of God.  And then I find, I do get what I need.

Do you find that, too?  Do you get what you need?  Can I refill your cup?  You, too, are forgiven.  You, too, can soak up God's grace.  You, too, are God's child and you, too, belong to Him.

My cup runneth over.

French Toast Sticks

What do you do with a loaf of bread you make on Sunday and forget to take out of the machine until Tuesday?   (Smacking myself on the forehead!)

You turn it into french toast sticks! 

First, use a good bread knife and saw...err, slice the bread into thick pieces, about an inch.  Then cut those dried out...err, sturdy pieces into thirds. 

Then you're ready to dip those sticks into your egg and milk mixture.  Just use what you normally would for french toast.  Add yummies like vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg.  Anything you like.  But let those dried out babies soak for a while! 

Then lay them out on a baking sheet and bake until they look done.  Don't you love my accuracy?  I just wing it a lot in the kitchen with things like this.  Oven temp?  350 is probably good. And watch them till they are brown and lookin' good. 

Then when they are cool, throw them in a freezer bag to surprise your kiddos at breakfast one morning.  Tomorrow maybe!

The English Muffin Bread recipe I shared is great for these sticks, too.

HOME AGAIN, HOME AGAIN...

...jiggity, jig!

Hubby is home, Hubby. Is. Home!  Did we dance a jig?  Just about.

Our week has been filled with stories of Africa and letting Daddy nap to recover from his jet lag.  The 8 hour time difference takes its toll.

Our original plan had been to spend some quality family time at a nearby campground for the first several days he was home.  We lasted a whole 3 hours before the tornade threats started.  Boooo!  We decided better safe than sorry, packed up the camper as quickly as we could and headed home.  We did enjoy quiet days at home, but it's not the same as enjoying them in the outdoors.  Ah well, what can you do.  We are just glad to have him home!

A Gem

Had to share this little gem of advice I recently read.  Being more positive, more optimistic, is a good thing.  You feel better, you work better, you look better.  You just ARE better!  Do you agree?  Count your blessings.  Give thanks in all circumstances.  Right? 

So try this one:

When you find that lonely sock in your dryer today, just sing out, "Wow!  An extra sock!"  And I bet you need one, too, don't you?

credit

Stupid Days

How does it happen that we have days of stupidity?  Days when we do and say stupid things?  Not with malicious intent, but those stupid things happen none the less.  I sit quietly for a while, reflecting on my day so far and I find myself saying, "How could I have been so stupid?!"

I know to check my rearview mirror before backing up.  The long blast on a horn that is not mine tells me I made a stupid mistake.

I know that it is well after lunch.  The smirk on the clerk's face tells me my greeting of "Good morning" is not quite right.

I know I shouldn't try to sip my hot coffee while accelerating.  The slosh up my nose tells me I should have left my cup in the cup holder.

I  know how to respond politely to strangers.  Yet, because of my mind being elsewhere, I mutter a cool, "Yeah" to the cashier's "Have a nice day!"

I shake my head at myself.  I know, I know, I know....but I make mistakes.  I'm misunderstood.  I choose poorly.  When I'm feeling less reflective and more humorous, I might call them my "blonde moments."  I can laugh at myself.   Today I just wonder, why the Stupid Days?

She can turn on a dime!

Ever have a day when you try so hard to overcome your bad mood, and at every turn the bad mood seems to gain the upper hand?

Today is that day.

Stay away.

Stay far away.

What I did today...

I took a nap.  It is one of my very favorite things to do on a Sunday afternoon.  I curl up on the tiny couch with a blanket pulled up around my ears and I doze off.  Doesn't matter if the TV is on, or if the boys are playing.  In fact, somehow, that makes it better.  I know my loved ones are near and safe and off I go, into dreamland. Here are some more naps.

The "I'm exhausted and I can't go on" nap.

The "searching for the right position" nap.

The "I have to pull over NOW!" nap.

The "I'm so comfy, I don't care how I look" nap.

The "I feel safe" nap.

It's Good to be Queen

Isn't this a cool coffee mug?!  Cookies on hand and ready to dunk at your convenience.  Love it!  Now where would I find one of these...

If you stepped into my kitchen you would see I have a sign that reads, "It's Good to be Queen".  I saw it at one of those little crafty gift shops.  You know the kind...they sell candles and crafted items, maybe someones homemade fudge, some plants and flowers, maybe even a few antiques.  The kind of shop that's just fun to wander through now and then because they change their items and their decor with the seasons.  Anyway, I saw that sign and I had to have it.  It serves as a good reminder no matter what kind of day I'm having.

If it's a good day, one in which I am happy to do my chores, happy to manage my household, happy to "rule my roost" then the sign confirms my state of mind.  It IS good to be queen!  And when my little princes get home, I'm putting them to work in their own little corners of my kingdom because those corners - called bedrooms - are disastrous!

Other days are not so good.  I might dread the ironing pile, the dishes left from last night, cooking supper for my picky eater only to hear him say, "I don't really think I like..."  I don't want to be queen, I don't want any more responsibilities, I don't want my workload.  I want to sleep.  That is when the purpose of the sign is different. 

"It's GOOD to be queen." 

This is my God given vocation and it is good.  I may not like all of it.  I don't have to like all of it.  But it is good, because it comes from God.  He has gifted me with my hubby and my boyos, with this home and all that is in it.  He has gifted me with the ability to be at home and care for it all.  It is GOOD to be doing this, even if I don't like it. 

Then my perspective changes...

I see God's grace...

I exhale...

and tackle that nasty pile of ironing.

Learning as I go

I believe this title might apply to any number of aspects in my life.

But today it applies to this blog!  Sheesh... 

For some reason I've been having trouble with comments.  And I thank those of you who have brought it to my attention.  I'm sure I saved the wrong setting somewhere along the line.  Thank goodness for Google and it's ability to interpret "help! the settings on my blog are all screwed up and no one can comment and I don't know how to fix it!"  Well now it's fixed.

Comment away!  But please keep them kind.  :)

Pro-craft-ination

I love looking at crafty blogs.  I love doing crafts, especially paper crafts.  Scrapbooks, cards, cut paper hearts.  You know, all that cut and paste stuff we did in grade school.  LOVE it!  And I thought I would have fun sharing some of my own creations, simple as they may be, with you.  But do you think I could get past the "idea" stage and into the acutal "doing" stage??  Drives me nuts, that bit about myself.  I procrastinate.  And I'm good at it.  Lots of ideas in my head....just gotta get them out of there and active.  Grr.  I have a dear friend who is the grab the bull by the horns and go with it.  She and I work well together.  I come up with the ideas and she runs with it.  Maybe I should pick up the phone and ask her to give me a virtual kick in the behind.

So one day soon, I hope to have a couple of pics of some of the great ideas in my head!  Unless they turn out crappy.  Then I won't post them.  I'll just tell you they turned out crappy - but I had fun trying.  Seriously, there is one photo collage I did for Christmas that I haven't changed yet.  I plan on getting it changed out for Valentines Day.  Maybe I'll start that now...  That sounds good!  I have an hour before Cub Scouts.  Thanks for the pep talk and the oh-so-gentle kick in the behind. 

Home, sweet home

I made it home safe and sound, well rested.  But guess what I came home to?  A sick teen who has had this cough/sore throat/ stufffy head thing already.  A kitchen sink that won't drain properly.  Puddles that mysteriously appear in the basement.  Wonder what's leaking?  A septic system that occassionally backs up through the drain in the basement floor. 

And today?  The house is getting steadily colder, instead of warmer.

What next, I wonder.
...
After a brief series of phone calls, I am now expecting a houseful of repair men.  Yea!  Some will be outside pumping the septic tank.  Some will be inside fixing - I hope - the heat.  And maybe I'll get REALLY lucky and see the plumber today, too.  We'll see.

So glad to be home!

So glad to have had my R&R!