Sauerkraut Is a Polarizing Taste, and Other News From Our Break (7QT and FTSF)

Happy 2014!  A new year and Christmas break following a blogging hiatus leads to plenty of things to write about.

********************** 1 ********************

I equate any break from school with noise.

Constant noise.

My children are incapable of being quiet.

Even when doing "quiet" activities, like putting a jigsaw puzzle together.

You can't understand the noise until you hear it for yourself.

The singing, the trash-talking, the playful bickering, the complete nonsense noise.  No, really.  If they can't think of anything to say or sing, they just make sounds.

I know, it's adorable.  Especially the part where he "na-na-na"s his way through the lyrics he doesn't know.  But now imagine up to 6 kids all doing this at the same time, all singing different songs.  Because when one of them senses that the noise is starting to make me twitch, he pushes the envelope and intentionally gets louder.

Like this:

(We were in the van at night, COW driving.  The loudest voice you hear is Giant, as he's sitting right behind me.)

We have 4 more days of break.  Four more days of lots and lots of noise.

And yet, I don't want break to end.  I love having them home.  I love being able to stay in our pajamas all day long.  I love the loads of time we have to play games and have fun.

And I love the locks on our doors, for those times when the noise gets too much for me and I can throw the children out into the yard for some energy-burning activities.  (If I don't lock the door, they will take turns coming in to tell me something/tattle on someone, make me kiss a non-existent boo-boo.  None of which is quiet.)

********************* 2 ****************

Several months ago, my mom mentioned her desire to have a game night at her house with all of her grandkids.  A week ago, my sister texted me "We got the most fun new game.  You have to come down and play with us."  I called my mom and told her to be ready on Monday, as her dreams were about to come true.

Amazingly enough, all three of my Kentucky siblings and their children were available for at least part of the day.  We brought a bunch of games and snacks, my mom made an unbelievable amount of food, and we spent 7 hours eating and laughing and having a great time with the relatives.  (A total of 15 kids, ages 6 months to 15 years)

Once we were back home, the boys were talking about the fact they missed basketball practice to go to Kentucky for the day.  They all agreed that four hours in the car and missing practice were totally worth it.

It almost made me want to move to Kentucky.  (I said "almost", Mom!)

************************ 3 ************************

Now that the holidays are over, Kate, Stephanie, Janine, and Kristi's Finish the Sentence Friday is back.  This week, we are to write about our blogging goals.

My blogging goal for this year is...

to have fun.  Plain and simple.  I'm not in this to make money.  I'm not in this to gain a gazillion followers or get a book published.  I blog because I want to record our life for my kids.  I enjoy trying to tell our family's stories in funny or interesting and different ways.  I have a ball interacting with everyone here in the world of the internet.  I like hearing from people I know in real life who have heard about the blog.  It's fun.  And I want it to continue.  If it stops being fun, I'll stop doing it.  I don't want to stop, so my goal has to be to have fun.

************************ 4 ******************

Crazy fun people live in Kentucky.  Emphasis on the crazy.

Yes, that is a playhouse on top of an old silo.  It's just down the street from my mom, but I forgot to ask her how it got there.

*************** 5 ********************

COW made me text a friend to let her know that thanks to her, he was having his best New Years Day ever.

Remember the Polish sausage COW made with the sausage stuffer he got for his birthday?

He had some today, paired with homemade sauerkraut I helped a friend make back in September.

At one point, Buttercup and I had this conversation:

B:  Dad is in an exceptionally good mood today.
Me:  Why do you say that?
B:  He's giving away the Twinkies he got in his stocking.  He never gives away the Twinkies he gets in his stocking.
Me:  Never underestimate the power of sauerkraut.
Phoenix (who happened to walk through the room) : I will keep that in mind.
B:  Yeah, in a few years, when I ask for the keys to the car, I will be sure to have a jar of sauerkraut in my hand.

Quick learners/schemers those kids are.

******************* 6 **************

While today was the best day of the year for COW, it completely traumatized Cuckoo.

As COW cooked, Cuckoo came in to ask me for a peanut butter sandwich.  Not unusual, except he was holding his nose.

"Why are you holding your nose?"
"Betause it stinks weally, weally bad in the titchen."

For an hour and a half, that boy did not let go of his nose.  He ate his lunch (with a complaint that it tasted funny.  (How many of you did science experiments on smell affecting taste?  Cuckoo hasn't yet.)) played a game, and just hung out with us, all the while holding tight to prevent even a small whiff of sauerkraut stench to enter his nasal passage.

Before today, if you were to ask Cuckoo what the worst food in the world was, he would have answered "soup".  Today, one of the big kids asked him which he'd rather eat, soup or sauerkraut.  Cuckoo answered, "Soup, betause at weast I tan have chocolate soup.  Sauertwaut is da worst.  Down at the bottom."

It wasn't until everyone was done eating, the food was all put away, and the smell had completely dissipated that he was willing to breathe normally.

On an unrelated note, why in the world does a child who refuses to eat chicken and noodles, meatloaf, and a variety of other delicious, good-smelling food have absolutely no trouble trying vile-smelling, been fermented in its own juices for three weeks cabbage?

******************* 7 **************

We have a great zoo in Indianapolis, and we have had a membership there since Phoenix was a baby.  About 5 years ago (maybe) they opened a new exhibit with bats.  Really, really large bats.  While it was a nice idea, they didn't take into account that bats are nocturnal, and the zoo is only open during daylight hours.

For 5 years (or more) we have walked by to see a bunch of impressively-sized bats simply hanging from the ceiling.

Saturday was an unusually warm day, so we made a night of going to church, having dinner at an awesome deli downtown, then heading to the zoo to see the Christmas lights...

at night...

when the bats are awake.

While the kids and I stood transfixed, watching them climb and eat and interact and stretch, COW stood just outside the viewing area.  I'm pretty sure I heard him saying a prayer, asking God to not let them escape, because they would surely end up inside our house.  I said a little prayer, too, because if one of those got inside our house, COW would drop where he stood, and I'd be a widow.

But maybe, after seeing these monster bats, COW will be a little less scared and a little more grateful the next time a normal, itty-bitty bat gets into our house.  (You know one will.)

*********** Last minute addition Bonus take ***************

When the big kids were little kids, I had complete control over the songs they heard.  This is not the case as I raise Turken and Cuckoo.  The big kids and COW (who has had enough of kids' music after all these years) listen to all sorts of non-kids' music when the little kids are around.

Today, Star had this popular song playing, and he and the little boys were singing along.

Well, Turken and Cuckoo were na-na-naing along, since they didn't really know the words.  Until they got to one particular line.  At minute 1:43.

Basically, Cuckoo sang na-na-na-na-na- HELLBOUND na-na-na.

When he is in 2nd grade, he will be the child other parents talk about.  "Oh, keep your child away from Cuckoo.  He has older siblings and is allowed to do all sorts of things I don't want my kids exposed to."

Know how I know?  Because my friends and I used to say it about kids in Phoenix's class.

Well played, God.  Well.  Played.

Feel free to link up with either Finish the Sentence Friday or 7 Quick Takes.  They'd be happy to have you.

Have a lovely day!

*  All last night I tried to link up with the FTSF girls to no avail.  No one was putting up the link.  And then this morning I went to link up with Jen, and she didn't put her link up either.  Forgetting that I couldn't link up with FTSF last night, my mind went straight to worry about Jen.  She was sick last week, so was something really, really wrong with her?  She is known to have massive health problems.  It is not until just this moment (2:18 in the afternoon) when I read a couple of posts about Theme Thursday, that I realized today is Thursday.  It's not Friday.  These are Friday linkups.

A cautionary tale, ya'll.  Staying in your pajamas for too many days in a row really jacks up your internal calendar.

The ladies will love to see you TOMORROW, which is Friday, when they actually have these lovely FRIDAY link-ups.

Don't Lie, Children, Unless You Are Being Interrogated by the Doctor.

I long for the days when well-baby checkups were easy.

I would love to go back to the days when I was in control of the information the doctor received.

Basically, I like our medical professionals to believe we are clean, civilized people.  My children, on the other hand, are bound and determined to let all MDs know we are as redneck as they come.

For example, one year, when the nurse told one child to take off his clothes down to his underwear, the child said, "I don't have any underwear on."

I don't know if that was better or worse than the child who showed up to his check-up with underwear so full of holes the doctor actually laughed.

This physical evidence is bad enough.  The stress of the questions, though, keeps me on the edge of my seat.

A good doctor, apparently, is required to ask the child all sorts of questions while the parent sits by, quietly but fervently praying for the child to answer correctly.

Do you eat a lot of different, healthy things and drink your milk?  Say yes.  Please say yes.
Do you know the alphabet?  Oh, for sure you'll show off your mad ABC skills.
Do you always wear sunscreen?  Always???!!!  Does anyone ALWAYS wear sunscreen??
Can you ride a bike?  Are you still using training wheels?  Do you wear a helmet??  Crap.  We live on a farm!  They don't go on the road!
Do you have trouble going to the bathroom?  Are you going to tell her you thought you pooped your pants today?  Huh?  And then when I checked and said, "No you didn't.  It was just a toot." you argued and said, "No, I saw it when I looked in my pants."  Gonna tell her that??  Please don't.

It's in these moments that I really want the children to lie.  I know I've told them over and over and over that lying is unacceptable.  Lying only causes more problems.  Blah, blah, blah.  I really should have put in a caveat when I put that rule in place.

Don't lie, but it's OK to lie to a doctor when Mom is in the room.  Just make Mama look good.

I thought I had some hope with the kids learning this lesson on lying when Phoenix was little.  At a dental visit, the hygienist was going to brush his teeth and asked which flavor paste he wanted.  When she opened the strawberry he had requested, he told her, "That's not strawberry.  Strawberries are red and that is pink."  When no amount of logic would work on the woman, he pulled out the big guns and said, "Oh, I forgot. I gave strawberries up for Lent."  It was September.

Unfortunately, that's the only time one of my kids has ever lied to a medical person.

Today, Cuckoo had his 4 year check-up.  In case you're wondering, he's in the 25th percentile for height and the 50th percentile for weight.  The perfect size if your lifelong dream is to be a Wobble.

He did very well for the entire appointment.  He sat on that table all smiles, doing everything the doctor asked.  He took a deep breath, he let her look in his ears, he looked at the spot on the wall while she checked his eyes.  When she checked his reflexes, his foot jumped.  When she told him to walk across the room, so she could check his back, he skipped.  Not only was his underwear hole-free, it was clean.

And when he answered the doctor's plethora of questions, he didn't throw me under the bus.

Do you eat a lot of different, healthy things and drink your milk?  Yes.
Do you know the alphabet?  Yes.  Can you spell your name?  Yes.
Do you always wear sunscreen?  Yes.
Can you ride a bike?  Yes.  Are you still using training wheels?  Yes.  Do you wear a helmet??  Yes.
Do you have trouble going to the bathroom?  No.

And then...

Doctor:  Do you brush your teeth?
Cuckoo:  Yes.
Doctor:  In the morning and before bed?
Cuckoo:  Yes.  Except when Dad won't let me brush at night.

I think COW felt the force of that bus all the way downtown.

Have a lovely day!

Stuffin' the Sausage

Can't wait to see the folks Google sends my way with that title.

I'm going to be all up in your face with a farm update today.

First, did you see what my freezer looks like these days?

The pigs are home where they belong.

On to the garden...

I went into the mud room on Saturday and found this:

COW had been in the garden and harvested everything that was left out there.

Apparently he found some carrots.

And these...

were out there, too.

Who knew?

We spent Saturday night turning that sink of green into this:

We blanched them, dried them, and bagged them for the freezer.  They will be used to make some good meals this winter!

Thirdly,  the girls.

We have found a chicken outside the fence a couple of times.  As soon as I get out there to put her back in, she does this...

I'm thinking once we identify which ones are doing it (There are 30 chickens, and most of them look alike!) we'll take a try at clipping their wings.  I'm sure that will go well and completely excitement-free.

And lastly, it is the biggest news on the farm as far as COW is concerned. 

With the freezer full of ground pork, COW has been able to pull out his birthday present to make some sausage links.

The boy could barely contain his excitement.

This is a (long) video of COW and the little boys adding the spices to the ground pork.  He's giddy, I tell you.  Two things before you watch...

1.  I am in the kitchen making lasagna for dinner.
2.  The recipe calls for 10 pounds of ground pork, but his sausage stuffer only holds 5 pounds.  He is making 5 pounds, thus having to halve the recipe.

Once the sausage stuffer came out, COW was all business and no silliness.  It would be a travesty to overstuff the sausage, so he had to stay focused.

These first links are pretty pathetic.

At one point, Cuckoo and I were scolded for not STOPPING when we were told to STOP!  Unfortunately, one link tragically burst.  It was reincarnated as the link's ugly stepbrother, the sausage patty.

We got the hang of it, though, and were able to put 4 and a half pounds of breakfast sausage in the freezer.  (We had to taste it!)

He got much better at it as we went along.

Everyone is looking forward to breakfast more than ever! 

That's all I have for now.  And since it's getting cold out there, I'm planning on going into hibernation.  Hopefully, I won't have to go outside for any reason until spring.

What are the chances?

Have a lovely day!

FTSF + 7QT = 1RLP*

Linking with the ladies again today (Kate and Jen). 

*************** 1 **************

Our FTSF sentence this week is...

I wasn't really myself when I...

My brother is going to love that I am finally admitting to this.

I wasn't really myself when I was learning how to drive a manual transmission.  (Is that the scientific name for stick-shift?) 

I was living with my mom for one college summer break, and the only vehicle for me to use to get to work was her old pick-up.  In order to drive it, I needed to learn how to drive stick.

My mom took me out, and I had the basics down.  We spent a good long time working on hills, as I was quite nervous about them.  In the end, I was passable, and there were no hills on my way to work.

One day, my brother (five years younger than me) was with me when I stopped at the grocery store.  Driving out of the parking lot, we got stopped at the light.  The light was at the top of a short yet very steep hill.  As we sat there, I got nervous.

At first, it wasn't too bad.  No one was behind me, so if I rolled back before getting my feet to do what they needed to do in order to get us going forward, no big deal.

But then someone pulled up behind us.  He pulled up so close I could no longer see the front of the guy's car.

I kindly asked my brother to get out of the car and ask the driver to back up a bit.

My brother refused.

I not-so-kindly told my brother that he really, really needed to get out and ask the guy behind us to back up.

My brother refused.

I panicked.

Not just a little.

Full on, head spinning, completely ridiculously panicked.

My heart was pounding, I was so scared I would be unable to get the car moving forward before I rolled back right into that stupid car behind me.  I don't know why I was so worked up about it, but I was. 

Oh, was I worked up.

I cussed up a blue streak, pulling out the F and the D and every other cuss word I ever heard and flung them at my brother to convince him to get his butt out of the car and tell the guy to BACK UP!

After giving me a look that showed me I had lost my mind completely and utterly, he refused again.

I had never been so mad at another human being.

The light turned green, and in my fury, I hit the pedals with such force, we went bolting forward, practically knocking my truck into the car in front of us. 

I yelled at my brother the entire way home.

He chastised me for expecting him to talk to the guy, but mostly he chastised me for cussing.  By this time, he had become Mormon and reformed his ways.  He was completely offended by my use of such foul language.

It was the one and only time I have ever said the words that came out of my mouth that day.

It was the one and only time I have ever panicked to such a degree.

My brother will never let me live it down.  As a matter of fact, he just brought it up at our August 10th 4th of July party. 

Fortunately, our family came up with a signal this year.  Anytime someone started telling a story we had heard one too many times, someone could raise her hand to make the person stop telling the story.  I totally raised my hand the second he brought up the pick-up truck.

************ 2 **********

As COW was heading to bed, something on our pink chair caught his eye.

 

Do you see it???  No, not the big, black thing.  The two little black things, that look a bit like the tips of something.

He got a little closer, than jumped back, saying, "I think there is a bat in the chair."

Me:  "You mean the glove sitting on the chair?"  (Now that I see this photo, it's clearly not a glove.  I have no idea what it is.)

Him:  "No, behind the cushion.  There is a bat wedged in behind the cushion!"

Me:  "Take a picture!"

Him:

What happened next pleased me beyond reason.  While I stood there taking photos, COW actually took care of the bat all by himself.  If you don't know why that pleased me so much, you may want to read about the time I discovered COW is petrified of bats.  (It was early on in my blog, so the writing is not the high quality you have come to expect from me.  (Ha! (But really, the writing is bad.)))

First, he covered it with the kids' butterfly net, then paused to ponder his next move.

He decided simply pushing the chair out the front door was the best solution.
"Can you please stop taking photos for two seconds and clear the crap out of the way, so I can get this chair over to the door?  Don't know if you've heard, but there's a BAT in this chair."

 

I don't have a photo of the chair on its back in the doorway.  It was really dark outside, so my camera wouldn't focus fast enough to catch COW in panic mode trying to fling the bat out of the chair and into the night.

 

I do, though, have a photo of the flung bat.

 

COW thinks he may have broken the poor bat's wing in the fling.  We never saw it fly, but it was gone in the morning.

Come to The Coop.  Conquer your fears.

 

There's a T-shirt in there somewhere.

 

********** 3 ***********

On Monday, the worst two years of Phoenix's life began.  He is now the unhappy wearer of a full set of braces.  After my own nightmarish orthodontist, I put the day off as long as possible.  Probably should have thought it through, though.  Getting braces on a Monday of the second week of school at the start of his first soccer season in high school probably wasn't the best idea I've ever had.

The poor kid can hardly eat.  At 5"11' and 123 pounds, he doesn't have any excess weight to lose.  He's had two soccer games this week, and only eaten about 2,000 calories all week.  Not good.

He's not exactly happy with me.

But he'll still cheese for a photo for me.  Such a good boy...

************** 4 ***********

Warning: Proud, gushing mom moment. 
Speaking of Phoenix playing soccer, I told you on Saturday about the high school soccer tryout debacle in which he was cut, then a whole week later asked to be on the team.  This week, they have had two games, each game being 90 minutes.  Phoenix is the only player who has not spent one single minute on the bench.  I couldn't be more happy for him.

************* 5 ************

The chickens and I now have a new routine.  Every morning, I go out to the coop to open the door, giving them free access to that gorgeous new pen COW and I made for them.

They refuse to go out, even when I tempt them with fruit.

So, we have resorted to shooing.  No pen of mine is going to go unused!

The first day, I cornered them in the room by the door, then moved in.  Chickens went flying, squawking their full heads off.  But, since there are 30 of them, a few had no choice but to go outside.

I brought in some help and scared even more out. 

In the end, I had about 15 outside.  Good start, I thought.

Since then, Cuckoo and I have gone out each morning for the shooing of the chickens.  It's to the point where some have even figured the routine out.  As soon as they see us, they head for the door.   Today, we managed to get all but 4 outside.

Of course, within 10 minutes of our leaving, they head back inside.

They are just lucky I have things to do.  Otherwise, I'd be planted right there next to the door, making them stay outside and enjoy the sunshine and the bug eating and the perfectly safe zone COW and I created for them.

***************** 6 *************

I have a new favorite phrase.  COW was telling me of a co-worker's sister-in-law who has moved in with his family.  Apparently, she has no job and no inclination to find one.  In the explanation, he called her a "never-do-good". 

I immediately stopped him.  "Did you just say never-do-good?"

Yes, yes he did.  Bless his heart.

In this house, we will forevermore call "a person who is ineffectual, unsuccessful, or completely lacking in merit" a never-do-good. 

Which means once a year.  Does anyone ever even say "ne'er-do-well" anymore?

***************** 7 ***************

Cuckoo is 4 years old today!

The birthday boy, in photos:

Loving the butterfly exhibit at the zoo

The boy has style...

and a sweet tooth.

Always trying to do things like the big kids.

He now collects shells.

Have a lovely day!

*1 really long post

Twisted Mix-Tape Tuesday - Our Love Story - to Music

Well, it has begun.  Phoenix started high school today.  While I am very sad for me, seeing my baby head off into the world of "really big, old kids", I am beyond excited for him.  He is going to a great school with lots of good friends with so many opportunities to learn and have fun. 

Wearing shorts we spent three hours at the mall searching for, he left dark and early.  (Poor kid is in a carpool with two girls who like to get to school reeeeaaaly early.)  After school, he texted me to say he had a good day, but, "Did you know shorts aren't part of the dress code?"

Right.  I like a good prank like anyone else, but sending my baby to his first day of high school in something NOT dress code appropriate is not something I would do.  I'm going to assume he has gotten my sarcastic gene, which I can be proud of, and wasn't really asking that question.

Guess I'll be heading out to not find pants that fit him.  Did you know there aren't many stores which sell size 28x33?  Especially when you limit them to the color khaki. 

Anyway, I am a little more nervous than other moms might be about my boy heading to high school.  It was during my freshman year that I met COW.  The thoughts of him meeting his future wife already...I just can't go there.

But I have been doing some reminiscing.  Perfect timing for me to try a new blog hop.  COW and I love music (though neither of us can play an instrument or sing on key.  COW can barely keep a beat, and his dancing is atrocious), and it has been a big part of our life together.

Ms. Jen Kehl has a Tuesday Mix-Tape hop each week, and the theme this week is "Duets".  While COW and I have been known to belt out the tunes in perfect disharmony, we've never been recorded.  I won't be able to share with you our tear-inducing duets.  I will, though, be able to tell you the story of our life through the music of respected duets.  And for a couple of these, I'm using the word "respected" a bit loosely. 

1.  When COW and I first began dating, I thought he was rich.  He didn't waste his time recording songs off the radio.  No, sir, if he liked a song, he went out and bought the tape.  (I later found out he wasn't rich at all, seeing as he still used a hand-me-down 8-track, too.)  The first one we ever listened to was DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince.  No joke.  We loved them, and sang every word to those songs.  I can still sing them without missing a beat.  Our favorite:

 

 

2.  Over our high school years, we went to LOTS of dances.  Besides the usual homecomings and proms, we had Turnabout ,(the one where the girl asks the boy.) and sock hops after every single football game.  We spent many, many nights getting sweaty dancing to that fantastic 80s music.  One song which got the place rocking every single time was "Walk this Way", sung by Run-DMC and Aerosmith.

 

Enjoy.

 

 

3.  OK, this one is going to leave you scratching your head.  I said I was using the word "respected" very loosely.  COW and I both performed in the variety shows our school put on each spring, although never the same one.  The year I participated, we did a theme song bit, and I was cast as Laverne, from "Laverne and Shirley".  From then on, whenever I felt the need to embarrass COW in public, I would go into my Laverne high knee/low snap moves.  Worked every time.

 

 

4.  And then we graduated.  Being that we were mature before our time, we decided to attend different universities.  I didn't even apply to the school which he attended.  We had been together for more than two years by then, and came to the conclusion we didn't want to stay together out of habit.  We tested our relationship by throwing ourselves into the pit of bad behavior and temptation individually, hoping for the best.  We managed to stay together, missing each other terribly and talking on the phone every night.  During my freshman year, he made a tape for me (Yup, a song from a mix-tape in a mix-tape post.  Beat that!)  full of songs which made him think of me.  (Such a romantic, no?)  Of course, when you think of romance, don't you immediately think of Sonny and Cher?  I do.  Ever since that tape came in the mail.

 

 

 

5.  Time went on.  We got hitched.  We took lots of road trips.  We were pros at traveling with little to no money.  Our favorite vacations were ones in which we would get in the car and simply drive a certain direction.  We took only back roads, stopped whenever we felt like it, and discovered all sorts of fun places.  Since radio reception was spotty out there in the middle of nowhere, we listened to lots of CDs.  One of our favorites was Kenny Rogers.  And the song we really sang with gusto, alternating our parts like pros, was the song he did with Kim Carnes.  As the song went on, the gusto got bigger and bigger.  We were made to sing that song.

 

 

And then we had kids and our music turned more towards Raffi-type songs.  Since COW gets to ride in a car all alone a lot more often than I do, his radio channels are set to more modern, adult stations.  (Really, I have no idea who he is anymore.  Seems he's in a mid-life crisis.  One day, he found himself driving downtown with the windows open, rapping some inappropriate Eminem song.  It finally did dawn on him that a client may happen to see him and rolled the windows back up.)  I am still in the Land of Make-Believe, listening to Kid's Place Live all day. 

 

It's OK.  Our day will come.  Someday.  When the house is empty, (you know, when we're 70) you may see us out on the road, proclaiming our undying love for each other at the top of our voices.

 

 

Phoenix is in high school.  He very well may meet his future wife any day now.

 

You know he's going to let us choose the music for the wedding.

 

Thanks, Jen, for giving me the motivation to put this together.  I had a lot of fun doing it!

 

 

Have a lovely day!

 

The Big Day

Each week, Josie chooses two words as writing prompts.  We are to write something original (not just link up a past post) with one of the two words as the theme.  I have never done one, seeing as how my brain just couldn't come up with anything before.  This week, though...  This week, I'm in!

Your choice of word prompts for Tuesday, June 25th are: 

 big  or  waiting
 
I hope you'll join us!

 

********************

Nineteen years ago today, Hubby and I stood in front God and a church full of friends and family to receive the Sacrament of Holy Matrimony.  It was a big day only in that it was the first day.  It was the first time we committed ourselves to sharing our life and love.  We have made this same promise every single day, whether it be out loud or in our actions.  To us, marriage is not simply "a piece of paper" but a sacred union.  It cannot be broken.  Most days, it is easy to make this promise.  On those days in which we are just plain annoyed with each other, it's harder, but it is even more important to do so.  Knowing that this is a sacred union, we are much more motivated to communicate better and clear up the disputes to bring us back around to the easy days. 

 

But today, as we humans are known to do, we will celebrate the first day.  The BIG day when we first committed ourselves to each other.

 

For me, the wedding day was not what one would consider a normal wedding day.  For much of it, I wasn't surrounded by throngs of people.  I went and had my hair done, headed to my grandma's to get a shower, then to my dad's to get dressed.  I dressed alone.  I waited for the photographer alone (except for the moments I had to talk my little sister into actually wearing her flower girl dress).  It was a peaceful morning of preparation and anticipation.

Oh, the hat.  The one regret I had on that day.  My mom had picked it out and gushed over it.  I, being the nice daughter, agreed to wear it.

 

Once everyone started arriving, things got hopping.  We had a few photos taken at the house, then on to the church.  We were married in a beautiful, old church where Hubby had gone to elementary school.  He grew up in a town that, years and years before, had been part of my family's farm.  Many of the streets have my family's names, and I'm related to half the people there.  We thought it was a wonderful place to wed.

 

It was a beautiful Mass, and we smiled the entire way through.  We were completely relaxed and simply enjoyed ourselves.  I asked my mom to accompany my dad and me down the aisle, seeing as how they had been divorced a good long time, and he wasn't really representing the both of them.  She was hesitant at first, but finally agreed.  We're both glad she did. My brothers and his sister did the readings, cousins were the servers, aunts were the Eucharistic Ministers.  His grandparents brought up the gifts. (My grandparents were there, but my grandpa wasn't able to do it.)

 

 

We all had a good laugh when, during the vows, Hubby flubbed my name.  He has some explanation, which he thinks is reasonable, but as far as I'm concerned, after 7 years of dating, he really should have had that part down pat.

 

 

Before the ceremony my youngest sister (about 7 at the time, and quite a corker) issued me a dare.  At the moment the priest said, "You may kiss the bride," she wanted me to look at Hubby and say, "I'd rather kiss a goat".  When the moment came, I could feel the giggle waiting, knew she was anxiously waiting for me to speak.  Hubby and I both smiled, knowing I wanted to say it out loud, but I couldn't do it.  We simply kissed, and everyone cheered.  Both Hubby and I have said it plenty of times since then, though, and each time it reminds us of that wonderful day.

 

The reception was in a converted barn at a local golf course.  Nothing fancy, to say the least.  It didn't matter.  We had a blast, dancing and visiting and laughing all night long. 

There was the usual cutting of the cake,

(yes, he did smash it in my face, but I got him better than he got me)

 and the first dance (to this):

  

Again, nothing fancy.  Basically just swaying.  My guy has lots of talents, but keeping a beat just ain't one of them.

 After the reception was over (we were close to the last to leave) we headed to our hotel.  All of the out-of-town guests were already in their rooms by the time we got there.  We made it to the front desk to check in, but were told they gave our room away.  Since we hadn't checked in before 6:00, they thought we weren't going to need it. 

Yes, there we were, bride and groom, with no room at the inn.  They apologized profusely, and immediately started calling around town to find a room for us.  Unfortunately, there was some convention or something going on, and no hotel rooms were to be found.  Finally, they found a room (notice I didn't say "hotel") for us at no charge.  We were directed about 5 minutes down the road to...

DON PONCHO'S MOTOR INN.

Kid you not.  That is where we spent our first night as husband and wife.  We had to walk through a dark, dingy bar sparsely filled with old, lonely men (silent at 1:30am on a Saturday night) to get to our room on the second floor.

Can you think of anything more romantic?

We had a flight to Miami at 8:00 or so the next morning, and without cell phones, we had no way to wake up in the morning.  (Surprisingly, Don Poncho's didn't have wake-up calls.)  We had one of our parents call us at 5:30 to wake us.

The next morning we made it to his mom's house, packed up our luggage, and headed to the airport.  It wasn't until we were checking in at the airline that I realized I had left my purse back at my mother-in-law's house.  I had no ID, and half our money was in it.  (Remember those promises we made?  We got to practice living them right away!) 

Fortunately, this occurred back in the day when people simply trusted each other.  I managed to fly to Florida, drive a rental car, go to places for folks 21 or over, and fly home without an ID.  No one batted an eye when I said I forgot it.

Nineteen years ago, on that big day, we never, ever could have imagined all that we'd do and go through.  No married couples can.  That's why marriage is so hard, and the promises so important.  Without having any idea what is going to be thrown at us, we have promised to do it together.   It is overwhelmingly reassuring to know that we both believe this with our entire beings. 

For better (Bermuda) or worse (law school) in sickness (his, kids', mine, or swine) and health (six kids!) for richer (Bermuda) for poorer (once again, law school), we're doing it together.

Now, go on over to Josie's Two Shoes to read some other takes on the theme or to link up your own!

Have a lovely day!

 

Interviews With the Pig Wranglers

********** Wednesday morning, as the kids ate breakfast ************

Christine:  So Buttercup, tell me.  When did you realize that something had gone terribly wrong outside last night?

Buttercup:  When Dad called me.

C:  What was the first thing you saw?

B:  A pig out of the barn.

C:  And what was it doing?

B:  Just looking at Dad.

C:  Why did he call you outside?  What did he want you to do?

B:  He yelled at me to grab the barn fence.  He used it to corral the pig back to the barn.  He also yelled at me to get the barn door open.

C:  And Giant, why didn't you go out, too?  Perhaps with a camera?

G:  I didn't know what was going on.  Dad called her, and she went.

C:  Did Dad sound panicky?

B:  Yes.

G:  I don't know.  I couldn't hear him.

C:  How did you not hear him?

G:  She was the one who answered the phone.

C:  Hold up.  He didn't come to the door and yell into the house?  He actually called from the yard on his cell phone?

G:  Yes.

********* The night before ****************

Christine (on the phone):  Hi, Honey.  Just wanted to make sure someone fed the pigs, since Phoenix isn't home.

H (breathing hard):  Yeah, they got fed, but not the way you're thinking.

C:  What?

H:  When I got home, there were two pigs in the orchard.

C:  Aah!  How?

H:  They busted through the barn wall.  I have to go.  I'll tell you about it when you get home.

************** An hour later, Christine pulls up to the house, where she sees her husband rolling a large piece of tree stump down the hill and putting it in front of the barn door.  This conversation takes place in the front yard. ************

C:  What happened?

H:  I put the little kids to bed, then came outside to make sure the pigs had water.  I walked around the house, and when I got right about there, (points to the "garage") I saw a pig on its way to the garden.  I then saw another one under a tree in the orchard.

C:  Where were the dogs?

H:  I realized they hadn't figured out the breech of security, so I found Roy and tied him up.  Hershey followed me.

C:  How'd she do when she saw the pigs?

H:  She immediately hopped on one, but stopped when I told her to.

C:  How did you get them back in the barn?

H:  Well, the first one just ran back in when it saw me, and that is how I figured out their escape route.  The second one ran up to me, just to say hello.  He then went back to digging around the yard.  I used one of the barn slats the pigs knocked out to try and corral the pig, but it wasn't working.  I basically just scared it around to the other side of the barn, far away from the hole in the wall.  I told Buttercup to get the barn door open and guard it so the others didn't get out.  Finally, I just grabbed the pig by the hind legs and drug it back in.

C:  You drug it???

H:  Yes, and it didn't like it one bit.  It was flailing and squealing something awful.

C:  So the barn is now fixed?

H:  Yes.

C:  And the tree stump by the barn door?

H:  Extra precaution.

**************** After breakfast this morning, a walk around the scene *************

The hasty repair job on the barn

"Extra precautions"

**************** and drawings *************

First indication that something is amiss.

Confirmation that yes, something is just not right.  (Don't ask me why this pig looks like his parents were an odd pig/elephant mix.)

Shocking, really that this tactic didn't work.

Pig Wrangler Extraordinaire.

*********** Du, du, duuuuuu **************

The pigs are planning their next escape.  There is a big trench dug out right next to the fence.  A pig posse has never done this before, so after last night, worry has set in.

Christine is a fake farmer, mother of 6.  Sadly, she was at a soccer game with her third oldest when the above event occurred.  Besides the disappointment she felt in not being a part of this new pig adventure, she is mostly appalled with her children.  She was heard to yell, "How in the name of all that is good, did not a single one of you think to grab a camera when this all went down???   Have you not learned anything from me?????" 

Have a lovely day!

Stories from the Weekend

After a long weekend of being away, with family members in three different cities, it is so nice to be all back together again.

As soon as one story is finished, someone else jumps in to tell another.  From the littlest one to the biggest one, each has his/her own favorite stories from the busy weekend.  Tales of good plays, of questionable refs, of good food, of birthday parties.  Basically, it's the kids' way of telling me they missed me without actually having to admit it.

It was Indiana Soccer's big State Cup weekend.  Just about every team in the state played this weekend, each hoping to do its best to win and move on to the finals in June.

Since Giant broke his thumb and can't play, it left us with only three kids to play.  I was in Ft. Wayne (NE Indiana) with Star, Hubby was in Elkart (NW Indiana) with Phoenix and Turken, and my mom with Buttercup, Giant, and Cuckoo, was in charge of getting Buttercup to her games 40 minutes away from our house. 

Favorite Stories For the Books:

Me (to Hubby):  Were you planning on going to church with (another soccer family) on Saturday?

Hubby:  No, I'm planning on taking the boys to a baseball game.  Unless it rains, then we'll go to church.  I'll leave it up to God.  If he want us to go to church, He'll make it rain.  (as he pantomimes) I wash my hands of the decision.

Me:  Shall I just start calling you Pontius Pilate?

**********

A text conversation between Hubby and me:

"One of the pitchers asked Turken if he wanted a basesball and he said no."

(After I stopped laughing.  I later learned that the pitcher laughed, too.) "So God decided you didn't need church this week?"

"Apparently, since it was a beautiful night."

(later, after telling the story of the rejected baseball to Phoenix's teammates) "Turken said the reason he said no to the baseball is because we already have some at home."

****************

To save money, Star and I shared a hotel room with our friends Always Random for our tournament in Ft. Wayne.  We've never done this before, and all of us can say we now know each other a whole lot better.  For example, we now know that one of the boys talks in his sleep, and I can't stop scolding children even in the middle of the night.

We were all sound asleep by 10:30, but at 12:30am, I clearly remember sitting bolt upright and whisper yelling to the boys sleeping in the other bed, "Boys!  What are you doing?  We're trying to sleep!  Star, do you have your iPod?  Turn that off and go to sleep!"  And then put my head back down on the pillow.  As I replayed it all in my head, I began to wonder.  I sat back up, and it seemed the boys were sound asleep.  I shrugged and went back to sleep myself.

The next morning, it was all explained to me.   Apparently, the 11 year old friend had been talking in his sleep.  It startled me awake, and I instinctively hollered at the boys. 

Who explained this all to me?  Mrs. Random awoke at the sound of her son's talking, thus seeing the whole thing go down.  Although, even she can't explain where the non-existent iPod came in.

******************

Buttercup:  It was freezing cold our first game, and it rained so hard our second game, we couldn't even see the ball.  Two of our defenders wear glasses, and they couldn't see a thing!  When we would chest the ball, it would bounce off of us, and when it did it made a sucking sound, pulling our wet jerseys off of our wet skin.  

(Shocking to us, as we up north had unseasonably warm (85+) and sunny weather the whole weekend.

*****************

It seems we at the Coop can't leave a soccer tournament unless it is in a blaze of glory.  Star plays goalie and is very good at it.  He is not afraid of either the ball or players coming right at him.  Today, he jumped on top of the ball, and an opposing player didn't stop.  Poor Star got kicked right in the back of the head. 

It was quite scary, as he wouldn't move from his position of curled up on the ground, holding the back of his head, for quite some time.  Finally, he did get up and walk off the field.  Before I could say, "Where's the medical tent?" a medic was speeding over in his golf cart to examine him.  No signs of concussion, but a nasty bump on his head.  Plus, the force of the kick had sent his face right onto his knee.  The poor kid also has a split lip and a "rug" burn/bruise on his cheek. 

**************

At one point early in the weekend, I noticed Star on his iPod.   Our conversation:

Me:  Didn't you already check your Instagram 10 minutes ago?

Him:  Well, I was going to, but then you said, "AAACCCHH".

As soon as he said that, the entire family started laughing uncontrollably.  Of course, you don't know how absolutely hilarious this is, seeing as how you don't live with us.

When a child is about to head out of the room, and I am in the middle of something but need to tell the child something, I can't always get out what I want to say in a quick, coherent fashion.  It always comes out as a choke/holler/squeek.  There's too much to say and I need to hurry so the kid doesn't leave and I can't remember the kid's name, so it comes out, "AAACCCHHH". 

I didn't realize how bad I was or that the kids realized it until Star so perfectly mimicked me.  Clearly, not only does Star realize it, but Hubby, the rest of the kids, and my mom see it, too.  They all knew exactly what he meant.

***************

The kids were all in bed nice and early tonight.  So much excitement wears them all out.  Once they were all tucked in, Hubby and I had our own story-telling session in which we discussed all the things that happened which they were not to know about.  Sideline shenanigans, talk of how the kids played, things that irritated us, and a variety of other things that keep this marital communication wide open.

In the end, the only team that moved on to play in the championship weekend was Giant's.  The very team which has only won one game the entire season went and won both games this weekend.  Without Giant. 

Huh.

****************

Can't wait to catch up and see what you all were up to over the weekend!

Have a lovely day!

Words of Wisdom

1.  When having to split a salami sandwich while on a picnic, just take it all apart and completely reassemble it as two individual half sandwiches.  Salami doesn't tear well.

2.  If you want your kids to be as healthy as possible, feed them healthy foods, get them outside to play, and let them eat dirt. 




It seems playing outside, visiting pigs, and then putting your hand in your mouth is good for your immunity system.  It's true, my kids rarely get sick, but don't just take my word for it.  ABC thinks so, too.

(I shall pause for my germaphobe readers (and you (and I) know who you are) to vomit in their mouths and obsessively wash their hands.)

3.  When a basketball goes flying and crashes through everything on your dresser, do not ask Dad to fix any of it.  You'll end up with something like this:

What do you get when you cross a Pacer's bobble head and a statue of St. Joseph?
I'm pretty sure it's called Sacrilege.

4.  When starting a blog, think long and hard about the name.  Don't limit yourself to concerns of interest and creativity.  Number one, make sure it isn't a pain in the blankety-blank to write over and over again.  For instance, a-fly-on-our-chicken-coop-wall.blogspot.com. is about the stupidest URL in the known world (wide web).  Oh, the dashes!  Why did I have to add dashes????

5.  While your children may enjoy it, and you will for a bit, do not go out to lunch with your child's teacher.  He may feel too comfortable with her and do something horribly embarrassing, like reach up and poke each of said teacher's three wrinkle chins and say, "Does this hurt?" while all you can do is watch and cringe from across the table.

Hard-earned wisdom.  Learn from it.

Have a lovely day!

P Is For Personality

My husband and I went to the same small, Catholic high school.  As juniors in Religion class, we each took the Myers Briggs personality test.  It was no shock when the results came back.

Hubby was:

I: Introverted
S: Sensing
T: Thinking
J:  Judging

while I was:

E:  Extraverted
N:  Intuitive
F:  Feeling
P:  Perceiving

In other words, exact opposites.

I recently looked up the "definition" of ISTJ, and found that my husband has only become more ISTJ, if that is even possible.  He and I went through the list, and every single item described him.  If you want to know my husband, you can read it, but basically it says he is fact and goal driven, dependable, not naturally in tune with his own or other's feelings, extremely loyal with a strong sense of duty, and puts tremendous amounts of energy into tasks he sees as important, while resisting putting any energy into a task which makes no sense to him.

And then there is me.  As an ENFP, I am an intense individual with highly evolved values, a risk-taker, happy except when confined to strict schedules, have a need to maintain control over myself but do not believe in controlling others, good at most things that interest me, and love life, seeing it as a special gift to make the most of.

Let me illustrate our differences.

When Hubby was 13 and a half, he was getting his Eagle Scout.  Normally, boys don't reach this level until they are 16-18.

When I was 13, I was trying, and failing, to look like Dorothy Hammill.

I always enjoyed taking care of kids, so I had a long list of people who called me to babysit their children. 

Hubby had to watch his little brother one time.  When his brother continued to annoy him, Hubby tied the little brother into his crib, so Hubby could play ColecoVision in peace.

I ran track because I was good at it.  When I ran, I ran sprints.  You hardly have time to think, let alone get bored, in a 100m dash.  

Hubby has run marathons.  He has done both an Endurathon and a full Ironman triathalon.  He was even crazy enough to complete a 100km (55 mile) race.  On his feet.  He didn't do these things because he is good at them.  He's not.  Many, many years ago, he set a goal to do an Ironman.  So he did.



Hubby has known his entire life that he wanted to be an attorney.  He had to work ridiculously hard, paying for all of his schooling by himself, in order to reach that goal.  Not only did he reach it, he graduated from law school #1 in his class and had his pick of firms for which to work.  He has done the exact same job for the last 14 years and likes it so much he has no desire to do anything else.

I became a teacher, mostly because I didn't put much thought into anything else.  I only looked at two colleges; the two from which the coaches were calling me to run on their track teams.  Never have I stayed in one job for more than 2 years.  Never having taken a photography class or even reading a book about photography, I opened a photography business.  A few years later, I officially closed the photography business. I currently teach preschool one morning a week, and I get annoyed that I have to follow the preschool schedule. 

When taking a child on his individual trip, Hubby plans everything out well in advance, knowing their itinerary for the weekend before stepping on the plane.

When I take a child on a trip, I will go over some possibilities with the child a few days before we leave, but make no definitive plans.  We decide as the trip progresses.

Some may wonder how our marriage works, seeing as how we have such different personalities.  I find it to be working smashingly well.

I can hop from job to job and go with the flow because I know Hubby is always there to be the dependable rock of planning and income.

Hubby can be safe in his out of tuneness to feelings, because I am always there to call him out when he is being too harsh on or critical of himself or others.

About 5 years ago, my book club had a psychic come to our meeting, and she gave us individual readings.  She made a point of telling me that my husband (whom she had never met, and I had never mentioned to her) had a tendency to be cold.  (I laughed, because I call him that all the time.)  She continued by saying he needs me.  He needs me to get him to see the colors instead of the black and white he lives in.  He needs me to pull him out of his facts and goals and encourage him to have some fun.  He needs me to make him relax and enjoy all that we have.

She didn't tell me anything I didn't already know.

But she failed to finish the thought.

She failed to tell me that I need him just as much as he needs me.

I need him to be on my case so I finish tasks that I don't feel like doing.  I need him to reel me in when my people-personness spins out of control.  I need him to plan our retirement, so we don't end up living in a van down by the river.  I need him to caution me and point out the pitfalls when I start out on another endeavor without any plans.

On paper, we seem to be a terrible match.  In reality, we are perfectly perfect.

Most of the time.

Just don't bring up the new kitchen when he's around.  It would fall into the "makes no sense to him" category, and he is fully in touch with those feelings.

Have you ever taken the Myers Briggs or any other personality test?  Do you agree with the results?  If you are married, does he/she match your personality?

Have a lovely day!