Mired in waiting

We have a date, we have a destination, we have a rough travel plan.

So, why am I having such a hard time figuring out how to go about moving? We need to schedule everyone and their cousin to get out of here but the thing is, once the movers come we're out of here. However, after they come we have to schedule a final check through, and we may have to do a couple of things more after that to get cleared.

But once your stuff is gone, you can't stay anymore. We have a very definite window during which we have to erase any trace of our lives here from this home (except for normal wear and tear, which can be an awesome sight for a family of 6) and arrive at another place only to become immediately established enough to send two kids to school. For about a week, while our things are in a crate somewhere and we're living out of our van and hotels, we'll be houseless but not homeless and that makes me nervous. It reminds me of the time when I had been mere months out of my parents' house when I was between apartments and relying on the good graces of some kind strangers (it wasn't as bad as it sounds) and I felt ill, not knowing where to lay my head or take off my shoes. During the day I sigh dozens of times over and re-place it all in God's hands. Heh. But if I have to do it over and over again, does that mean I didn't do it right in the first place? I want to have an address, a place to park my vehicle, and a phone number.

So, Man and I will sit down tomorrow with our calendar and make definite enough plans that we can start calling hotels for reservations and hopefully get a bead on where we'd like to live in our new (albeit very temporary) city. We're making some plans like spending enough time in one particular town to take advantage of the outlet malls for school clothes, and getting there with x number of days to spare to find a place before Man has to start his new classes. We can't get the kids registered for school until we know where we're living, and we can't find a place for sure until we're actually over there. Unfortunately, we hear that there's a significant waiting list for decent places to live and we do live on a humble salary, so hotels are something we can only afford for brief periods.

Oh, well. It'll work out. Plan, plan, plan. Ha. I can barely plan how to use the rest of the stuff in my freezer.

The only thing I know for sure that I can get a grip on is sorting through our junk and making sure we aren't dragging dead weight all over the country, especially since we'll be moving once more just a few short months after this coming move. I fear that my nervous energy is turning to nibbling and there are only so many carrots I can convince myself to prudently nosh before my poor, worn out patience demands some dark chocolate. Further more, my internet has been on the blink most of the day so I havn't been able to do any of the research I wanted to do. Before it went out I was able to order Tag another 4 pairs of glasses since the three we purchased just a few months ago are all toast. -sigh- The two weeks until those glasses get here seem like a long time for a boy with a crossed eye.

Anyway, off I go to put another dent in my landslide and another drop in my parched reservoir.

"Look, mom. They don't hurt! Ouch, no they don't hurt. Quick, take the picture! They don't hurt!"

"Hey, I have big rainbow ears!"


Can you guess what Pebbles did while she waited for the rest of us to wake up? What could that stuff be?

Here's another hint.

Good thing she's so cute.


And this is why I don't put her on the floor very much. I put her on a blanket but she's so wiggley that the blanket moves and then one wipe out on the ground leaves her looking like she got into a fight. This particular mark on her face is from falling off the couch. [forehead smack] No more couch. Ever. Until she's 35. Oh, wait, that's dating. Ok, 33.

getting stuck in the drive through

Every time I get fast food I regret it. By the time I had purchased 4 small milkshakes, I had spent enough money in cash, gas, and moments of my life to purchase a tub of ice cream, a bottle of chocolate syrup, and if oil gets any higher I might be able to spring for a blender next time as well.

After Sister in Law came for a visit I did my utmost to keep my home in good shape. After a couple of days it got depressing because constant vigilance just isn't my cup of tea. So, instead of staying home and following people around, getting them to pick up their messes 10 times an hour (per person) I decided to leave the house. I told them that if they were good at both Target and Borders that they would get a surprise. Princess had packed a nice little picnic for us and we were going to end our outing at a park with a snack before going back to business as usual at home.

I guess shakes are far from the cheapest things on the menu nowadays, what with milk, though now less expensive than gas, still rather higher per gallon than I'm happy to pay for. Because, you see, it isn't that milk has become less expensive. It's that gas has done cartwheels, the bunny hop, and a 10 second 100 meter dash past milk in the past year or so. I'm hoping that milk doesn't rouse itself, swallow a popper cocktail, and do its utmost to catch up to its competitor.

Anyway, the kids were pretty good at the stores so that was the surprise I had settled on. I almost immediately regretted it but, even before I had placed my order, was surprised to learn that even if I had the almighty chutzpah to drive away from Burger King after getting in the drive through lane with three kids in the car who know what that ridiculous burger sign means, I wouldn't have been able to. I was surrounded by the building and a 6 foot retaining wall which happened to retain a very steep hill I was sure my silly mini van wouldn't be able to conquer. In front of me was a diesel powered white pickup with both extended cab and and bed, and behind me was a Lincoln Towncar which I surely did not want to pay for if I tried to off road on top of its great, shiny roof. I was trapped. The only things that would have upped the ante would have been a hummer in front and a 'vette behind.

So, what happens if you get into line in the drive through and find that you have no money? Or what if you encounter a sign that says "sorry, no ice cream or shakes" when all you wanted was a shake and nothing else? Do you think that if I was denied a shake I'd settle for fries instead? No sir. Instead, I'd be stuck wasting gas until the pokey lunch line works its way through the two windows and the distracted drivers working on both departing and doling out bags of steamy, greasy food. Tag asked me why we didn't just turn the engine off while waiting in line. Smart kid.

There ought to be some sort of bail out option. They should build mini "off ramps" that let you desert the establishment rather than being forced to merely curse it and bottle thundering road rage which wouldn't even feel good to let loose in such a claustrophobic situation.

Next time, homemade shakes. It's poetry: a jug of chocolate syrup, a tub of ice cream, a book of comics, and thou.

enjoying the doing more than the getting it done

- My sister in law called us up on Monday to ask if we could do lunch on Wednesday. Yeah!! She lives clear across the country and I havn't seen her in a couple of years. It was so fun to sit and visit with her and lunch was all too short.

- Man finally got his orders. We get to go with him! He just has a bit more training before we move on to our next station, which will hopefully be longer term than what we've been experiencing. The very good news: we will be moving before school starts for the kids. Moving is such a pain in the rear, but I'm so happy to have dates and a place in mind.

- I cut my hair. Well, I paid someone to cut my hair. It's medium length again after growing it out pretty much since we moved here. It's light, bouncy, super-uber easy to style (as in, I don't and it still looks somewhat alright), and doesn't break as much when Freida grabs a hank and yanks.

- The two little girls had physicals this week. Freida is 18 pounds (at 6 months) while Pebbles hangs out in the mid 20's. They're on opposite sides of the median on the growth chart but are healthy, happy, and Pebbles will never allow her meager stature to diminish her presence. We measured Princess at home and she's managed to grow three inches in 6 months, for a grand total of 52 inches. Not bad for a 6 year old.

- We took Tag's training wheels off today. He wanted them off but is spooked about riding his bike without them. I took a trip down the street on Man's bike just to show him that it could be done and the saying is true: I hadn't forgotten how to ride one. What I did forget was how much fun it was and now I have a goal for the pennies I've been earning here and there.

- My birthday is coming up soon, which means I have to renew my driver's license and I'll be edging my way toward my late 20's. -sigh- I guess it had to happen some day. Poor Man is edging toward his mid 30's which I guess may be more depressing. For him, not me.

- Once again, I've composed all sorts of blog posts in my brain that disappear with the next spill to pick up or errand to run. Birthday wish list: small notebooks I can put all over my hotspots for quick blogging notes (places where I compose: while trying to go to sleep, in the shower, while changing a diaper, driving, and any time I'm trying to avoid housework. "sorry, can't sweep. must enrich my mind with purposeful internet use rather than aimless internet use. what's the difference? go away kid. you bother me."

Latest easy meal:

1 bag of flash frozen chicken thighs (bone in, it's much cheaper)
1/2 bottle bbq sauce

Dump chicken and bbq sauce into the slow cooker for 8 hours.

Salad: 1/2 head romaine, add about 2 cups of prepared coleslaw veggies. Add either craisins and poppyseed dressing or let people dress their own.

Potato wedges: cut a few potatoes into wedges. Place in either large Ziploc or large Gladlock with olive oil, salt, pepper, paprika, garlic powder. Shake like mad. Place, cut side down, on (shhhh, foil lined) cookie sheet or on your trusty pizza stone. Bake at 350 for half an hour.

Prep time: 15 mins, tops.
Cooking time, all day.
Time from "I'm hungry" until sitting at the table: as long as it takes to get your kids to set the flatware.
Dishes: except for the crockpot, minimal. Soak the crockpot. Or use a liner.

Would you like some rice cereal with that foot?

I've tried lots of different solids options with Miss Freida but she just prefers the gooey slurry of commercial rice cereal. Go figure.

However, she's in the stage now where she wants to participate in this whole feeding thing but she's definitely less than helpful. I like either end of the spectrum: either keep your arms and legs outside your mouth at all times, or go make your own stinking sandwich. I put a spoonful of whatever mush we're working on at the time into her eager mouth, which she prefers with a toe chaser. Sometimes the finger appy doesn't quite cut it, and occasionally she'll prefer more substance than baby goop so she adds a good helping of socked foot. [insert fiber joke here] Of course, once the body part of preference has done its job of enhancing her prandial enjoyment, the food being enhanced is then transferred to other objects which also require embellishment. I can understand how the same car seat for both feedings and outings would get a little boring, but the Wee Mistress needs some lessons in, erm, tasteful decor.

Remember how rice cereal acts as a lovely quick dry cement? Yeah. I just wanted to reiterate that.

She's taken to enjoying putting things into her own mouth which is great because then I can just leave her sitting among a pile of toys while I do something essential and quick, like maybe sneeze, without her feeling totally deprived. On the other hand, I'm worried that she'll be one of those babies who just has to put everything she sees into her mouth. The "see-food diet" becomes the "see-everything diet" but of course a certain measure of caution will prevail after her umpteenth helping of dirt clod, lemon wedge, or maybe mechanical pencil refills. I don't even want to think about the mystery objects little ones find under couches, because then I'd have to clean every crevice and nook in desperate haste. And I'm just not that sort of person.

night owl

Tag decided tonight that he wanted to stay up like mom and dad, so we said sure! Go right on ahead.

We tucked the girls in and Tag was so smug and happy to stay awake. It's always nice after bed time, how quiet it gets. He followed me around as I put dishes away, folded laundry, washed the kitchen floor, and fed Freida some solids. He asked if he could watch a movie and I said no, this is mom and dad quiet time. Man headed to bed pretty early leaving us up to get Freida tucked in and finish folding laundry. Tag couldn't understand why we'd be so boring at night. Where was the music? Where were the mom and dad movies (some of the scarier PG-13 and Man's Kung Fu movies)? Where was the party?

It reminds me of those moments in movies or sitcoms when men start to wonder what's in the ladies' bathroom. Is there scented water? Toilets that sing? Doves that bring us silk hand towels? A lot of the larger bathrooms on post here have sitting areas with couches and large mirrors. It's nice to have a place to nurse a baby if I absolutely can't make it back to my van before the baby implodes from starvation but I try not to make a habit of feeding anyone in a public restroom.

Anyway, Tag's experience with staying up late was rather disappointing. Which is just how we engineered it.

See, we often compete on Dr Mario, or watch a movie I've been putting off until no little eyes are around (we got tired of Princess having nightmares after watching Lord of the Rings), and that's also when we get the better ice cream out. I'm sure that he suspected that all of these things are what we indulge in every night as soon as we close the hall door. And maybe he's right.

But he doesn't need to know that.

By 9pm he was wilting like a spring blossom in the Sahara, begging us to let him go to bed since he was bored out of his mind. I told him that I was going to let him experience the consequence of his decision, and he was allowed to go to bed when I was ready to go to bed. Too bad that I often stay up later than I should, as well, but I can always think of something interesting to do when I don't have 8 arms, 8 legs, 8 eyes, and 4 voices demanding my attention. Sounds like a lot of people when I put it that way, doesn't it? So here I am blogging in a smug more-mature-than-thou-if-thy-pseudonym-be-Tag sort of way and doing the same dumb thing we're trying to discourage him from. The irony is vastly amusing but there are times when being a hypocrite has its rewards. He said that tomorrow he'd be happy to go to bed when his sisters do.

Don't try to kill it unless you can be sure of success

Does that apply to spiders?

I was walking to bed last night, carrying a baby, when I saw a spider that looked like a daddy long legs on 'roids. It was a web builder and it was web building right in the hallway, like it had a death wish. I decided to make good on its death wish and took a swipe at it. It fell to the floor all wushu style (slowly, gracefully, merely touching the wall a few times to glide effortlessly through space) and then scurried away. I tried to track it but it was nowhere to be seen.

Then I wondered if it could smell me, and if it would follow me to my bed where it would bite my nose, or leave a note tacked with webbing on my forehead warning me to never mess with 'roid-ish spiders if I knew what was good for me. What if it was a lazy, wealthy spider that would simply hire little earwig thugs to teach me a lesson? They would saw the head off a cricket and leave it on my pillow to freak me out, a la The Godfather.

I related these musing to Man who gave me what my friend C calls "the [Man] look" which, apparently, Frieda gets on her face quite often. As we chuckled over the whole notion we said good night to each other and I told him to not let the Vengeance Spiders (tm) bite. He laughed and said "no, that would be your problem." I felt a chill come over me but I laughed it off.

And then, as I tried to train my mind into sleep mode, I felt a little itchy all over until I finally drifted off.

I havn't seen Mr. Spidey 'Roid since. Maybe he took my warning to heart and set up shop in a nice compost heap. That'll teach him.

new toy

In exchange for watching her son, a friend presented me with a high whorl drop spindle. That was a "squee" moment for me if ever I've had one. For some reason though, this spindle and the yarn it makes are part vampire. I've had a difficult time getting a picture of either the spindle or the yarn. Oh, well.


This, friends, is way over spun yarn. It's setting after soaking in warm water. I think it'll become a felted hot pad for the lady who brought it over. Because we can never have too many hotpads that smell like sheep. Ha! It's oddly addictive to make this stuff but I can see how it would be tedious to depend on it for all my cloth needs. Some things are better left as hobbies.


I've heard of adding all kinds of fun things into hand spun yarn, like beads, colorful string, easter grass, cotton balls, hair from pets or loved ones (though I have mixed feelings on that one), dried herbs, fishing line, ad infinitum. It'll be fun to see what I can do with this once I get a better idea of what I'm doing.

sigh

Man helped me clean out our storage room. Now we can walk in there!

Just one Thing's room. I could clean this up in less than 5 mins (including changing of linens) but no prizes for guessing how long it takes to get the kid to do it herself. I'm told that some day I'll be grateful that I took the time to be consistent with them.

When I was taking a shower I asked the kids to watch the baby for me. This is how they kept her happy. Yes, that's some homemade chocolate muffin.

And of course Pebbles became curious about the baby's food. I think she started to draw designs in the dust. Did you know that if the floor is humid that this stuff looks like powder until you try to wipe it up? It's like quick dry cement.

This is about 2/3's of the laundry to fold today.


And this isn't helping. But she sure is easy on the eyes.

Wow, it's gone by so fast

Here I sit, thinking of all of the things that have happened in the last couple of weeks. Each time one of them was happening I started to compose a blog post about it in my head but now I can hardly think of a single one.

Here are a few blurbs:

- We had the Army ball on Friday. It was the first time I've been away from Frieda for an extended period since she was born. We left her and two other kids (Princess was at a sleepover) in the kind and tender care of a good friend. I was nervous for his sake but was so relieved to come home and find that they were all good for him. I had an interesting moment at the ball recalling dances of yore. This one was held at a large hotel on one portion of the military grounds and everything was ornate, vaulted-ceilinged, and generally felt out of my league. We had been enjoying cocktail hour (the chatting, not the cocktail), people watching and catching up with a few friends when I was suddenly taken back to my senior prom. I was all dressed up and wildly out of my comfort zone. In the ladies room I felt that old teenaged panic and unease and that sensation of drifting high and away from solid security. Then I remembered who I was attending the dance with, who my dining partners and dear friends were, and my center returned. The walls around me were faux marble, the sinks of faux granite. I was legal drinking age but calmly uninterested in partaking. I had a guaranteed dancing partner who I could kiss in comfort at the end of the evening. And I knew that I had a place there. It was just an interesting moment to recognize where I came from and how far away that is now.

- Miss Frieda has cut her first tooth. Say it with me: AAAAACK! My youngest, last baby has a tooth. Ok, so it's not a tooth yet but a tiny little saw blade that she cheerfully and voraciously employs on every surface she can grab and stuff in her little maw, but it'll be a tooth some day. There are no signs of its companion but more will surely follow soon. She spins on her stomach, scoots backward, sits like a pro and can even occasionally recover from falling backward if the boppy is behind her. She also eats solids at such a rate that I'm sure she would get by with nursing only before naps but I'm not ready for her to take it to that level yet. Soon. Just another few months. -sigh- It's going by so quickly.

- Yet another dear friend will be leaving me soon, followed shortly by another dear friend. I don't know what I'm going to do. Hopefully we'll be out of here soon and I can just move on from this place where so many people I've grown to love have left. I know that this is a huge part of this new life style but I think I'm emotionally done with this place now. I've been parted from enough friends for a while. Time to move on. I don't know when that'll happen. We're still in limbo and could move in 3 weeks, or 8 months, or any time in between. We're cleaning the house out like we're leaving soon but making dr's appointments and preparing to enroll two kids in school in the fall like we're staying. It's so nice to purge the old and breathe in our new elbow room.

- A friend and I went to World Wide Knit in Public Day (WWKIPD) and enjoyed it tremendously. It was fun to visit with ladies who are old hat at knitting and observe demonstrations on felting, cabling, and drop spindle spinning. My interest in drop spindle spinning has been reignited now that I've actually seen how easy it is. Time to get those old cd's out, make one, and give it a try. I think I'm finally comfortable with the correct way to knit now, after four different people trying to show me how. Ha! Same story with crochet.

- Muffin combos tried: apple cinnamon with caramel sauce drizzled on top; dried fruit, fresh ground nutmeg, orange peel, and a crumble on top made of brown sugar, butter, and ground almonds (tres yum); chocolate, chocolate chip; and cherry almond, which mysteriously turned the batter an odd green color. We havn't had a truly horrible combo yet but I'm sure I'll get around to it.

Anyway, that was a lot of rambling. I'll have to carry a little notebook with me so I can bring some more coherent ideas to my keyboard next time. If you've made it through this far give yourself a nice hooah, Army style (top of your lungs in your lower register).

Pina Colada

I added a can of chopped pineapple (including juice) and a cup and a half of coconut flakes. They aren't very sweet, despite having sugar and added pineapple juice. A little vanilla yogurt for dipping and I'm in heaven.

I had a nice, perfect square of butter on that muffin, but Pebbles came over, poked her finger in it and said "whassat?" Mmmm... how does one artistically smear butter over a muffin? I guess if you like butter it doesn't matter too much how artistic it is.

Holy baking mix, Muffin M... I mean, Batman.

I purchased a couple of muffin mixes of the "just add water/milk" variety. This morning I happened to be up early enough to whip up a batch for Man before work and as he munched on hot, buttered strawberry muffins asked "isn't there a recipe for muffin mix of some kind, where you just add fruit and milk?"

Well, duh. Why didn't I think of that?

A quick search on Recipezaar reveals that someone is already waaay ahead of us.

Behold, Universal Muffin Mix. There are 57 different flavor suggestions. 57!! (one of the flavors takes up two steps) I think this is the holy grail of muffin mix recipes and Man will be thrilled.

Now, how on earth am I supposed to mix this up? The crazy thing is, I think I have all the ingredients for this on hand. If I sub some wheat flour in, will the shelf life decrease? I could just keep this in the freezer.

It's about that time, again

For the seventh time in my life, I've had the opportunity to celebrate the fact that I'm married to the man I love. We have begun our eighth year of marriage.

Major events? Oh, dear, whose who know us well know that our life together has been a relentlessly bumpy ride, but hey, we have fun. We had 4 children in 6 years, they were born in three different states, 7 moves in 5.5 years, 6 jobs, 4 different couches, 3 different dressers in our bedroom alone, 4 cars, 3 surgeries, at least a couple dozen ER visits between the 5 of us who've gone, 6 semesters of college, at least 150 credit hours just during our marriage, a dozen church callings (many of them concurrent), and 3 lost teeth with a few dozen more to go. I think I've had about 5 different hair styles, 3 different makeup styles (not including a period of not wearing makeup), Man has had 2 different hair styles (with, and without), he has performed in at least 2 talent shows each year, and I've taken the kids to see him sing just one time. We've lived in 4 different wards. We've only experienced the loss of one dear extended family member. We've had 0 pets, and we'd like to keep it that way.

I think I've changed well over 10,000 diapers (ack!! four kids, times 365 days a year, times 3 years (both Things 1 and 2 trained when they were 3 years old plus change) times an overall average of 4 diapers a day = 17520 by the time they potty train... and that's a CONSERVATIVE estimate. I think I'm going to pass out and pray my progeny will forgive me for using disposables.)


Oy. So, yeah, we've been busy. I look forward to another 50 years, and eternities beyond even that.

Rice cereal

After introducing her to rice cereal, Freida is sleeping very well and loves to have her meals with us. We also feel a lot less guilty when these eyes follow our forks and totally bypass her eager mouth.

Was it something I said?

She loves her siblings quite a bit. They can get her to laugh a lot better than I can.

And my little giggler, who loves raspberries:

Graduate

The school year is officially over. She finished happily and well, and with good marks.

It's amazing how much has happened sine I dropped my oldest child off that first day of school so long ago. She's grown out of two sizes of clothing, learned how to read and write many basics, they started addition, subtraction, basic division and multiplication, and even some simple algebra. We've added to the family, had a lot of really neat experiences, and now her signature is on the same piece of paper as a local congressman.

I wonder if each year is going to be like this?

Tag will be going to school next year, which is one of the benefits of having the kids close together.

It's so silly, but when all the kids got their little diplomas and the teacher announced that the class of 2020 has just graduated kindergarten, I got teary-eyed. She'll be graduating high school 20 years after I did. Wow.... that's wild.

Today

I got to visit my aunt and uncle this past week. We encountered this stranger in their driveway:


In my aunt's continuing quest to rid her house of most of her worldly possessions, I was fortunate to receive this gem of a serving set up:


It's a lazy susan. There were several other items I came home with, but this is a quick post and I've already stolen an hour of precious sleep.

"Mom, I was walking, and then the sugar jumped out of my hands. My tummy said "no, don't do that, sugar!" but the sugar di'n't listen. Are the ants going to eat our house now? Bad sugar."

Shakes/Smoothies

Lately I've enjoyed shakes/smoothies quite a bit. The kids adore them, and it's a fairly economical treat to have after dinner.

Here are a few of my favs so far:

The Mormon Mocha

1 hefty scoop of vanilla ice cream
1 heaping teaspoon of postum (or equivalent, I've found the barley kind called pero)
2 heaping teaspoons hot cocoa powder
Milk to cover top of ice cream

Mix all in a large cup. Quantity sufficient for 3-4 persons.


Egg Nog Shake

One heaping scoop vanilla ice cream (or egg nog ice cream, if you can find it about Decemberish)
Cover ice cream with eggnog

Mix well. Grate fresh nutmeg over the top. Marvelously delicious.


Chocolate Cherry Stuff

1 cup vanilla ice cream
generous handful or two of frozen bing cherries
a bunch of chocolate syrup (dark chocolate, if you can find it)
Milk to cover the lot of it

Blend until smooth. You can add maraschino cherries for a stronger cherry flavor if desired (just remember to remove the stems first). Adjust chocolate as desired. Garnish with an extra cherry or drizzle extra syrup over the top.


Diet Mormon Mocha

Vanilla Soda
Ice cubes
Teaspoon of fake coffee
2 heaving tablespoons of sugar-free cocoa powder
1 cup of skim milk


Another thing we've done in the past is add Hansen's soda to fruit. The same could be done with diet gingerale and plain fruit if you're looking to avoid fat and sugar.

I must be getting old

Checkout line at Costco:

Me: Did you get the items in the cart?
Cashier: Yes, of course.
Me: Good, because one time the lady forgot to scan my toilet paper. And you know I couldn't go home without that.
Cashier: Nice. Free toilet paper.
Me: -laugh- Well, I don't want to go to [heck]. Especially because of toilet paper. [sorry guys, I actually said the real word.]

The two guys manning the checkout line were young and laughed at the mom who thought that walking away with $15 worth of toilet paper would keep me out of heaven. So I laughed, too, sighing inside. It's the thought that counts, right?

His parting comment surprised me though.

Cashier: I think Costco will go to [heck] before you do, ma'am.




When did people start calling me ma'am? Gosh.

Come watch the sunset with me

As I tucked Pebbles in for the second time tonight I saw an odd shade of orange light coming through her window. I grabbed the camera and ran outside. I don't normally like this eucalyptus tree at all, but tonight it looked nice in this rare beauty of a sunset.

I paused at the entrance of the cul-de-sac across the street to take it in.

Further on toward the beach.

By now I had waded through tons of ice plant and across an old trail to get the cleanest shot of this light I could.

I had been taking so many pictures and staring at it that I closed my eyes to see a sea of orange and green half-circles of various sizes. When my vision finally cleared enough to appreciate what was before me, it was almost gone.

I love a great sunset.

How did that happen?

So, do you guys remember the last Army Family Covenant signing we went to? They needed a family for one they had just recently and, since we worked out nicely the last time (and the Garrison Commander happened to remember me as an AFTB instructor which is one of her pet projects) they called us and asked if we wanted to do another covenant signing ceremony.

Sure, we said. After all, this time we would get to throw water balloons at the old, nasty, boarded houses a mere one block away from our own home. Following the balloons, a backhoe would tear down the house before our eyes and there would be cake afterward. Sounded like fun.

A couple of days before the actual ceremony we found out that a congressman would be there. Then we found out that some high ranking officials from the Pentagon would be there. Then we found out that we were to be the ONLY family in the photo op signing the covenant. Oy. And I didn't have a thing to wear.

A frantic call from the commander's aide confirmed the dress code as business casual and could we please be 20... no, 30 minutes early? My khaki's are too short (by an inch or so) and my nicer 3/4 sleeve shirts are all a little tight while I'm lactating and the only semi nice shoes I have are heavy sketchers which I couldn't possibly wearing with a skirt... do you see where this is going?

I don't know why I waited until the very morning of the ceremony to rush out to Target, especially since I slept in until 7. I spent an hour getting all the kids dressed then ran out the door thanking heaven that Target opens at 8 am. This is a newer Target so those carts that can fit three kids fit into the family sized dressing rooms. However, no dressing room could contain a Tag, as evidenced by his magnetic pull to the door which, of course, must be messed with when he is proximal to it which, of course, means I had to yell at him to close the %*$@ door after I started to undress. -sigh- (no, I didn't curse, but I sure thought about it)

Anyway, I tried on a bunch of khaki's, picked one, found two shirts (which are now my favs, I love these shirts) and went to check out. The whole time I bought 5 items I had to tell the kids to put away the candy 7 times, tell Pebbles to come back here 4 times, tell Tag to leave his sister alone 8 times, put a pacifier back in place 3 times, tell the kids to put candy away 10 more times, have my stomach fall through the floor when the cashier told me there was a slight stain on the pants, feel better about my impulsive clothing purchase after getting a 10% discount on stained clothes, tell Pebbles to quit trying to bite her brother 3 times, gather the three olders 4 times when they found out that there was even better candy in the next isle, and finally complete my transaction. Every time I take all four to the store, I swear within me that it will never happen again. Ha!

So I got home to get myself ready, put the khaki's on, check myself out in the mirror, and just for kicks hold up my old ones to see how much longer the new ones were. Haha. Hahahaaaa. Oh crud. You guessed it.

I meekly put the old ones on but used my new shirt and felt like a million bucks. Then I hid the new khaki's and hoped that Man wouldn't ask about them.

So Man came home, we piled into the van, and got there 30 mins early on the dot. We were shown the table where the signing would take place where we had our family name on a paper, standing next to and in front of 4 mayors , the congressman, the garrison commander, the battalion commander, 3 different commandants, and some other state official whose title I forget. Wow.

In the mean time we sat in the third row to await the ceremony. That's when I took a good look at the program, which outlined 2 hours worth of events. What?? Last time it was only 45 mins long and the kids were fine. I thought longingly of magnadoodles, coloring and sketch books, or even a stinking ball of string. My diaper bag always has a few odds and ends in it so we made due with one matchbox car, a single small baby toy, Man's mechanical pencil and one of the programs, and a roll of that stretchy, sticky stuff they use on your arm after they draw blood. We managed to get through with only one major meltdown from Pebbles (someone dared to steal her mechanical pencil) and just two glares from someone in the front row. I noticed that none of the military people glared at all. They were the most understanding.

It was fun to be sitting just a few yards from an old house while the congressman and the command sergeant major took turns operating the back hoe to initiate the tear down of one of those heinous eyesores. There was much applause especially from all the little boys as the house was reduced to a pile of splinters and pink insulation.

Man and I kept looking at each other in wonder, asking "how on earth did we become part of this?" Princess got to sign the community covenant now that she knows how to spell her name. When my turn came my pen didn't work at all so, just as I was thinking that I should try to juice it up on the corner of the covenant, the congressman whips his out and says "those government pens never work. Try mine." Afterward we got to mingle in an indoor reception, eating fine fruit and cheese, sipping Sprite out of stemware. We met the fire chief who I made the mistake of calling "sir." He looked pained and said "oh no. Scott. Just Scott."

We took Man home so he could rush back to work and I headed over to the PX where I planned to spend my painstakingly budgeted pennies on an entertainment center I've had my eye on, only to find that it had been knocked down in price from $268 to $62. I suddenly felt better about the stupid pants. And now I need to go buy a newspaper. Ha!

How did we end up there? How? I sure don't know. I'm still thinking about it with wonder and a slight degree of intimidation.

There was a pan of brownies on my clothes washer

There was a pan of brownies on my clothes washer, which happens to reside in my kitchen.

When I started a load of laundry, I snuck a corner.

When I unloaded the dishwasher, I snuck an edge.

When I swept, I snuck just a slice.

After lunch, I had merely a small piece.

When I put the clothes in the drier, I evened up the pan.

When I loaded the dishwasher, I tried a sample.

When I washed the floor, I had some crumbs.

When I took out the trash, I had but a small bit.



Which leads me to conclude: Brownies don't make me fat. Housework makes me fat.