Getting where we're going

Travel life is always full of surprises--some of them exciting and amazing, some them simply curious, and some of them not all that pleasant. On our way to El Colorado ski resort in Chile, I think we experienced all of them.

Since Uber doesn't exist in Argentina, and since all taxis in Mendoza are the exact same small size, we knew we needed to get two cabs to take us to the airport. What we didn't know was if we would find one available taxi, much less two. But to our delight, there were exactly two taxis waiting at the taxi stand near our house.

When we got to the airport and it was finally our turn in the check-in line, we found out there was some sort of computer glitch or problem that was preventing the airline from printing boarding passes and luggage tags. So, instead, the agent had to hand write each of our boarding passes and luggage tags, which was no fast process. It did serve as a good reminder to our kids of why we always plan to arrive at the airport so early, which they sometimes feel annoyed by.

Our long delay at check-in meant we didn't have to wait very long before they called for passengers of our flight to line up for boarding. But then we stood there for a good 30 minutes, long after our stated departure time, without any updates. Finally, we started boarding, though no other announcements were ever made. Whatever problem they were having also prevented them from scanning boarding passes (most of which had actually been printed), so they had to account for all of us on a manual roster. But eventually, we were all loaded up and made the one-hour flight, arriving at the exact time we left because of a time change.

Our first order of business was to load up on groceries to take out to the ski resort since we had heard there was only one little store on the mountain offering few choices at high prices. We called the largest Uber available, which stated it could comfortably seat six. But that apparently meant six smallish people without so much as a handbag. By the time we got our bags loaded, we were down to just five seats. We went ahead and crammed in for the short trip to the store, but then we had to figure out our next move for taking the hour-and-half drive up the mountain with our our newly purchased groceries added to our regular bags. Ultimately, we decided to just ride in two vehicles up the mountain.

When the first car arrived, the driver refused to take us up the mountain because he wasn't familiar with the road and didn't want to drive on it at night. So, we called a third car. But when the second vehicle arrived, it was a large minivan that could easily hold all of us, our groceries, and our bags. We cancelled the third car and headed up the mountain together.

Thirty minutes into our trip, the road was closed to ascending traffic and wouldn't reopen for a couple of hours. We had to head back to Santiago, and I was so thankful we had all ended up in the same vehicle because it would have been very difficult to coordinate so many moving parts in Spanish.

We weren't sure if we would be able to find another driver to take us up the mountain so late at night, and we thought we might have to stay in Santiago for the night and try again in the morning. But our sweet driver, who was himself a father of four (which is why he had the extra-large van), agreed to drop us off at a coffee shop and wait for us until time to go back up the mountain. He would only allow us to buy him a snack in compensation. He was such a lifesaver--just the right person at just the right time!

It was a wacky day with some crazy twists and turns, but we did finally make it to El Colorado, where Jeff and the kids will ski all week and I will entertain myself in whatever ways I can, which will likely include reading, writing, and warm beverages, since I was not cleared by my knee surgeon to ski on this trip. It is a beautiful place, and we are so glad to be here!

Flying in to Santiago

Leaving Santiago on our first trip up the mountain

Making me crazy and saving my sanity

Y'all. I am not even kidding when I tell you I actually did a Google search today for boarding schools FAR, FAR AWAY. Because it was that kind of day. The kind of day where I wondered what on earth had ever prompted me to homeschool my children. Or bring them into this world in the first place. The Google search actually seemed like the most rational thing I had done all day, and frankly, I felt better just knowing there were some options out there.

To combat the feelings of ick lingering over the house, I transformed the whiteboard in our school room into a thankfulness board. I put up a note that no one was allowed to write anything on the board that didn't have something to do with gratitude. One of the kids looked at me cock-eyed and confused and asked if this was supposed to be the grammar lesson. It wasn't. When the actual grammar lesson was dispensed, I stood at the board for a long time and could think of nothing to write. I walked away. I came back. Still nothing. Finally the fog lifted (Literally. It was a ridiculously foggy morning.), and I rushed to the board and wrote "sunshine." No one else came within ten feet of the board. But I felt my focus shift and with it my day.

Being a single parent this evening, I had all the taxiing duty to myself. So, after dropping a kid off and picking a kid up, and doing the in between errands, I arrived back at the house prepared to open a can of beans and call it dinner. But as I walked in the back door, I found two of the children WORKING TOGETHER in the end stages of dinner prep. And, they had not been asked, cajoled, or begged to do this. There were no tears and no ugly words. And the child I had just picked up immediately jumped into the fray and started helping. Again, without being asked. And, one of the other children demanded from the third that he thank his sister for the help. I almost fell over from shock! And gratitude swelled in my heart.

And, as I rounded the corner, I saw several items written on the board, and one of the children declared that making a gratitude board had been a wonderful idea.

I don't know what magic was present in our house tonight. I only know that these people that I brought into the world are both my madness and my sanity. And I know there is power in gratitude.

Making room for what's important

At 2:22 AM, the National Weather Service issued a tornado warning for our immediate area, siting funnel clouds in a nearby town, heading our direction at 45 miles per hour. Shortly thereafter, tornado sirens began wailing throughout our little city. My first thought, as I fought through the sleepy fog, was that some horrible accident must have occurred and the hospital near our house was experiencing a higher than normal volume of ambulance traffic. A couple of moments later, I realized it was the severe weather warning, but I thought it must be a mistake because it wasn't even raining. At almost the same instant that thought entered my mind, the rain started, and I sat bolt upright and grabbed my phone to check the weather. Jeff asked me what was wrong, and, as we both realized we already knew the answer, we jumped out of bed and hit the lights. One flickering of the electricity was all it took for us to start collecting sleepy children from the other bedrooms.

This house lacks a true safe room, so we made the split-second decision to put everyone in the master closet, following the tornado rules we've memorized as long-time Texas residents. I began literally throwing shoes and other clutter out of the relatively small space, in order to make room for my people. It was then that I realized I just have too much stuff.

I have been trying to live a minimalistic lifestyle ever since we got rid of everything and headed off on our RTW trip. But, suddenly, my stuff was getting in the way of my people, and it just seemed like too much. I was wondering how it even all got there and how I hadn't noticed it piling up before. But I hadn't noticed it before because it hadn't interfered with the safety of my family, and I had just been lazily letting it accumulate.

This morning, I woke up bound and determined to make room in my closet--and my life--for what's truly important. I'm not saying I'm happy we all had to gather in the closet in the middle of the night or that I want a repeat performance, though I'm ready for it if it's forced upon me. What I can tell you is that everything that's important to me was in my closet last night, and it darn sure wasn't my shoes!

Veliko Tarnovo--A Pleasant Surprise

We left Romania after breakfast this morning and proceeded with something like the opposite of haste to cross the border into Bulgaria. First, we missed an important turn for a toll bridge, which put us right smack dab in the truck-only area. This was seriously frowned on by the truckers, and the next thing we knew, there was a man at our window, yelling at us in a language we couldn't even begin to understand, and indicating that we needed to move ourselves with all speed to the car area. This we accomplished, along with several others who had made the same mistake, by driving backwards about 200 feet, through heavy stand-still truck traffic, until we could exit into the car area. Finally, we made it to the toll booth and paid our fee, before continuing at a snail's pace to cross the bridge, which spanned the Danube River. Once on the bridge, we realized one lane was closed for construction and the two-way traffic was taking turns using the one lane in a somewhat unorganized fashion. It may have just been the heat or the fact that we were all hungry for lunch, but it honestly wasn't the most relaxing time we've ever had.

Once across the bridge, it was time to hand over the passports and figure out if we needed to purchase a vignette (a country-specific toll tag). The sign at the border crossing said you only needed one if you were a commercial vehicle moving agricultural goods, but just past the passport control offices, we saw plenty of vignette venders, as we have seen in other countries where we did need one. This made us feel a little unsure, so we stopped and bought one, just in case. The thing cost 6 Euros, and Jeff had two 5 Euro bills in his pocket. However, when he pulled out the second one, it tore, and the clerk would not take it. He came back to the car, frustrated, but we fortunately had a few Euros in the cup holder, left over from a previous bathroom stop, and we were able to get the tag and move on.

Starting to relax a bit after all the adventures of the morning, we started to look for a place to get some cash and grab a bite to eat. Our car has a built-in GPS, which we rely on for everything, but it couldn't come up with any choices for banks or ATMs within 300 kilometers. We were in a decent sized town, so we knew there must be something, and relying on our own wits and powers of observation, we did find one within just a few minutes. Lunch was not so easy to come by. The GPS was no help there either, so we just drove along in the direction we needed to go, passing closed restaurants or unsavory looking ones, until we finally found a friendly looking little dive that was actually open. There was a serious language barrier, but through pointing and gestures, we were able to order some food, which was actually quite good. While we were eating, a man suddenly starting washing our car, without so much as a word to us. We were unsure whether he wanted to be paid or if this was part of the service of the place, and we had no way to find out. So, after we finished eating and the brave souls amongst us used the hole-in-the-floor, which passed for a toilet, we tipped the man and went on our way.

Our destination for the night would have been a welcome sight, no matter what, after all the previous events of the day, but it is a lovely city, built in layers upon a hill, truly a pleasant surprise. Honestly, Bulgaria was never even on my radar of places to visit, and I may not have even been really sure where it was located before we started planning this trip. And, even then, we really only thought of it as a means to an end, a place to stop enroute to Greece. But, Veliko Tarnovo is beautiful and full of history, and we had the best meal we've had on our whole trip at a restaurant  overlooking the Yantra River. What a pleasant surprise and a happy turn of fate that we ended up here!

Our apartment is at the top of the city.
This is the view from the balcony.

Shortly after we arrived, this rainbow appeared in the sky.
It seemed like a good sign.

We walked the hundreds of steps down from our apartment to the city center.
(And, then we walked back up again after diner, while a light rain fell.)

The amazing view from the restaurant, overlooking the Yantra River

There will be lounging at the dinner table when one side of seats is a sofa.

"Biscuit Cake" for dessert. Oh my!

Monday. All. Day. Long.

• Clay, who has been consistently visiting our room between 2:30 and 3:30 every morning for the last few weeks, was still sleeping in my bed at the time I usually make it, because I was just too tired to take him back to his room during the middle of the night. I should have known I wouldn't make it back in there to make the bed and therefore should have just crawled back under the covers. If I accomplish nothing else during the day, I can usually say I at least made my bed. Not today.
• I had a customer service issue to deal with first thing this morning. That's really a lovely way to start any day.
• While I was on hold with that company, Ruth's piano teacher called to remind me that Ruth had a make-up lesson today, which I had forgotten to put on my calendar. Not a big deal, but just kind of rattled my plan for the day. 
• Immediately after hanging up with the customer service rep, my phone began to ring. It was the secretary from the church where we meet for CC. A pipe broke over the weekend, and we were going to need to cancel our CC day for tomorrow. 
• Quickly, a fellow director and I made a plan about a make-up day, which will push our semester back yet another week. (We have already had several make-up days this semester, due to ice.)
• I then had to call, email and otherwise connect with the entire campus to let them know what the situation was. 
• The three big kids are in various stages of head colds. There has been a constant chorus of coughing, nose-blowing and requesting pain medication around here today.
• We received a helpful reminder about what is provided and what is not provided at the condo we will be staying at in NC next month. Linens are not provided, which I had completely forgotten. "No problem," I thought, "I'll just take a bag of our Campmeeting linens." But after searching the garage, attic, storage closet, and any other place I could think of (multiple times), I finally surmised that I have either inadvertently donated or thrown all those linens away. They are nowhere, and I am sad. (By the way, this is a major disadvantage of storing important things in large black trash bags.)
• I ran into a friend at the grocery store and found out her family will be moving soon. This is good for them, and I'm happy for them, but I selfishly wish they were staying.
• We got everything set up for dinner on the patio, which required hauling the large plastic table and matching folding chairs out from the garage (since we are without patio furniture at the moment, even though we have a nice, new patio) and a multitude of serving dishes for all the fixin's for soft tacos. We took exactly two bites of our food before the heavens opened and began spilling its contents upon our picnic. It started out as rain, but quickly turned into hail.
• While rushing to get everything in the house, a bowl was dropped and shattered, and what I thought was the last of the salsa was ruined. (Thankfully, we found another jar in the pantry!)
• While making a note about something on my calendar after dinner, I realized, with a bit of a shock, that the due date for the mortgage payments had come and gone. 
• So, yeah, it's been Monday here. We're looking forward to Tuesday. How about you?!

Curbing the chaos

Y'all. I'm one of those people that requires order. I seriously need it to stay healthy. Unfortunately (but also fortunately), I decided to have four kids and inadvertently created an environment where chaos rules and order absolutely cannot thrive. I have mostly learned to act like it doesn't bother me ignore the day-to-day chaos. But if I'm really honest, I'm slowly suffocating in it. I can feel the tension creeping up in my neck and shoulders, threatening to choke the life out of me. And, I can hear myself becoming snappy and impatient with the people I live with. I know what's causing it, but I'm afraid I don't have the first clue as to how to fix it. It seems the best I can do while I have small chaos-producing children in the house is to reign in the controllable parts of the chaos from time to time, even though I know it won't last. Today, I tackled the smallest room in the house (the pantry), which is all I felt I could manage. When I was done, I wanted to lock myself inside and just breathe deeply from this life-saving air hole of order. Tomorrow, the kids will no doubt go in there and pull things off the shelves and spill things on the floor and quickly shove something where it doesn't belong in an effort to not get caught stealing, but for a few brief hours, I will have had the pleasure of knowing there was order in the midst of the chaos. And, in this chaotic world where I live, that counts as a victory. (By the way, if any of you experienced moms out there have figured out the key to controlling the chaos, feel free to share your wisdom!)

Controllable Chaos

Uncontrollable Chaos

Daily Disaster

Adventure lives on at the Watts' house. Here's some of the fun we had today:

• A slosh fest with the juice (of course)
• Another sticky drink spilled in the exact same location, just moments after clean up
• Poopy toddler pants (again, probably obvious)
• A Kleenex blizzard (Thank you, Clay!)
• A dropped jar of jelly (sticky AND dangerous!)
• Ketchup bombs, while trying to get that last little bit of ketchup out of the bottle
• Overfilled chili dogs
• Escapees from the ant farm
• Overflowing bath tub (and not just a little--there was water running out in the hall)
• Earring down the sink

And that's just the messes. I'm not even going to get into the drama! Makes me tired just thinking about it. Think it's time to bid this Monday adieu. 

Mama needs a time-out…and a very strong drink

I don't know if it was the weather or having dad out of town or the approaching full moon or what, but my kids were extra-crazy today, and I was already in a bad mood because our Internet connection was non-existant on a day when I had a ton of emails to send. Here are a few highlights from the day:

My youngest child has entered a nakedness phase and absolutely refuses to wear clothing, except for the occasional pull-up or pair of underwear, sporadically paired with unmatched boots in various sizes. After chasing him around for a while this morning, I finally threw up my hands and let the child run wild and free. All. Day. That's right, on what will probably be our coldest day of the year, my baby wore no clothes. I'll be waiting by the mailbox for my Mother of the Year award. That same child also locked his bedroom door, before pulling it closed, no fewer than four times by mid-morning. While I was busy jimmying the lock each time, he was stealing I-don't-even-know-how-much candy from the pantry.

Meanwhile, the other children, who were supposed to be investing in their education, were running amuck and making ridiculously bad choices. Repeatedly. I will admit, I also gave in to temptation and made some bad choices of my own. By 11:00, I felt like I was losing control and sent myself to time-out in my bedroom. I wished I could have stayed forever. I would seriously love it if someone put me in permanent time-out. Eventually, though, I began to worry about those on the other side of the bedroom door setting the house on fire, so I came out. Reluctantly.

Around 8:30 this evening, Jeff texted to see if I had survived the day. I wisely and prophetically responded that I couldn't say for sure just yet. Almost the next thing that happened was that I checked in on Max in the bathtub and found that he had amassed, in the tub with him (from who-knows-where), a whole forest worth of paper, which he was desperately trying to coax out of the drain in large clumps when I walked in. I turned myself around and went straight to the kitchen for the alcohol.

I'm so glad we all get to try again tomorrow.

To furnish or not to furnish? That is the question.

Our new bedroom furniture was supposed to be delivered the day after tomorrow. (Yes, Sunday. Weird, I know.) But the delivery company called today to say that they routinely open the crates to make sure nothing is damaged before they make the final stop. From a business standpoint, this seems like a good move, as it saves them from unnecessary travel and keeps them from having to have a personal interface with a disappointed or angry customer. Unfortunately, some of our pieces were damaged, so they won't be delivering them on Sunday after all. I was looking forward to having the new furniture, but the real bummer is that I have spent much precious time this week unloading the two night stands and dressers we already had in the room and moving them to new, much less convenient locations (like the attic). And, all of our clothes and micellaneous stuff is camping out in suitcases and bags in our closet. The original shipping estimate was 4-6 weeks, so I'm wondering if that's what I should expect for the replacement furniture. Is it worth it to press the old furniture back into service only to have to go through all of the unloading and moving again, or do we just pretend like we're on sort of a ghetto vacation and live out of haphazardly prepared suitcases, in a sparsely furished room, until the new furniture gets here?

"Where undies doe?" And other mysteries

Did you all hear my head explode this morning when I momentarily turned into Rumpelstiltskin, when he found out the queen had tricked him? No? Good; but it's only because you weren't listening. So, here's the story:

Various kids were set in motion on various school subjects. I was helping those who needed help, as they needed it, and things were running fairly smoothly. Then, around 10:00, Clay pooped in his pants. How it's possible for him to go nearly all day dry and clean, when he's wearing a pull-up, but to poop in his undies at the first opportunity, is a mystery to me. But it happens. Every. Single. Time. So, I shooed him off to the bathroom and followed on his heels to provide the necessary assistance. The minute I stood him in the bathtub and pulled his soiled shorts and undies down, all h*ll broke loose in the school room. I left Clay standing in the tub and poked my head out the bathroom door to see what all the ruckus was about. A brief, but serious, conversation with Weston ensued, and when I turned around, Clay had climbed out of the tub, peed on the floor and further spread the filth around. I plopped him back in the tub, gave him the quickest, but most thorough, bath of his life and plunked the foul undies in the toilet for rinsing. But, the issue in the school room was not resolved, so, I left the now clean monster standing on the bathmat wrapped in a towel and called Ruth over for a conversation that turned out to be rather tense and lasted for several minutes. My brilliant parental lecture was stopped short by the whooshing sound behind me, followed immediately by the most sincere and confused question I ever heard:  "Where undies doe?" To quote Ray Stevens, "I turned around, and, a son-of-a-gun, they's gone!" That child FLUSHED his underwear. I am expecting a major septic backup sometime soon. And, I'll just say, for the record, that I have been rinsing poopy undies in the toilet for a whole lot of years, and this was a completely new experience for me. It was then, with my emotions already high, from preceding events, that I turned into Rumpelstiltskin. Which caused Ruth to chuckle and took the zip right out of my lecture. Everyone got back to work, without further incident, and it was business as usual, until lunchtime, at which point another mystery unfolded: the toddler who wouldn't touch his burger at Wendy's last night, ravenously ate his weight in stir-fried carrots and cabbage. And, then, pooped in his pants...

Sent outside to play

Y'all. This day. It just almost did me in. To be fair, I think it was just because I was physically and mentally exhausted from spending three FULL days at the Marble Falls CC parent practicum, wearing a variety of hats, including teaching a training course, and having a stack of work to get through today (and hoping to do that with the fewest possible interruptions).

But, riddle me this: If we need to leave the house early to be somewhere, why do I have to push, poke, and prod the kids to wake up, have breakfast and put two shoes on their feet, regardless of whether they match or not, but if we have an opportunity to sleep in, everyone wakes early (on their own), banging dishes, yelling "MOMMA" at top volume over and over and over, and are completely dressed, including matching football cleats, by the time I exit the bedroom?

Multiple times, I demanded that the boys go outside and play, partly just to protect them from me. And, I would really love it if one of you could enlighten me as to how it is punishment to go outside and play if you are a boy who lives on a 10-acre property, with a multitude of toys and sporting equipment, on a gorgeous Texas day in July, where the high temperature is only 88 degrees. I just don't get it. Why all the crying and whining and coming back in so often?

In fact, I was so perplexed by this, that, at one point, I decided to send myself out to play, instead of sending the boys out, just to see if I would start crying upon crossing the threshold. To my surprise, I did not start crying or whining. In fact, it was absolutely lovely. Right up until ten minutes later, when the door swung open, and the boys bounded out, a ball of noise and energy, eager to play right there on the porch where I was sitting in peace.

Our Epic Disney Adventure Begins

Our plan was to get up early this morning and hit the road for Florida. But, when Ruth's family birthday party was over yesterday, we all just had the itch to get on the road. So, in an act of complete spontaneity, we loaded up the van, and off we went. We pulled out of the driveway about 6:30 and drove until about midnight, stopping for the night in Orange, TX.

We were on the road again around 8:00 this morning and almost immediately passed into LA. Just as we got across the seemingly endless bridge over Lake Charles, and within eye shot of the increased speed limit sign, we were met by the state police, who were out in force, and they welcomed us to the state with a lovely little speeding ticket.

Undaunted, we pushed on (at a slightly lower pace). We were hoping to celebrate Weston's half-birthday at Chuck E. Cheese's in Pensacola, FL, where we also planned to spend the night, before making the final push to Disney tomorrow. Again, our plans changed. We made it to Covington, LA before our "check engine" light started flashing and our engine started chugging, reminiscent of our little trip to Amarillo last month. Not wanting to push the van beyond its limits, we found the local Chuck E. Cheese's and proceeded with the half-birthday celebration. And, while the kids played, Jeff called the Honda dealership and every rental car place in a 50-mile radius. Since it was Sunday, and Memorial weekend, nothing was open. (Well, there was one rental place open but they had exactly zero cars of any size to rent, so we weren't really sure why they bothered coming in today).

We finally figured out that the rental car places at the airport in New Orleans would be open, and a quick call confirmed that they also had cars (and vans) to rent. Eventually, we decided to stay in Covington for tonight, with the plan of leaving our van here at the Honda dealership and heading to Florida in the rental tomorrow. We found a hotel with connected indoor and outdoor pools and some very large suites. (According to Ruth, it's the most amazing hotel she has EVER stayed in). Jeff dropped the kids and me off, along with our swimsuits, and took a cab the 40 or so miles to New Orleans. When he returned, we modified our plan to leave our van at the Honda dealership in Slidell tomorrow morning, so it would be more convenient to return the rental to New Orleans on our way home. And, then we went out for cajun food. Followed by a quick trip to the pharmacy, because we are afraid Weston is coming down with a cold.

But, aside from a few little set-backs, the trip just couldn't be going better! The kids are having a blast and were very well-behaved in van and very flexible when things didn't go according to plan. We are hoping to hit the road early tomorrow and still make it to our resort in time to swim in the grand piano-shaped pool. Stay tuned for more stories from our Disney adventure.

Another birthday party under her belt

Celebrating 7 1/2 with Chuck. E Cheese

Half-birthday requests: "Abe Lincoln hat and baseball stuff"
(Don't know why that kid isn't smiling.
He was really, really excited about these two things!)

Two of my little fishes in the hotel pool

Chillin' before dinner

Peace and Joy

Lost

This is the sad story of one woman's struggles over the course of two millennia days, in which she was without her life-support purse. 

A woman's purse has long been a thing of mystery to men all over the world. "What's in there?" And, "Why does she need such a large vessel to hold all her things?" And, "Can I just put my               in there for her to carry around, since she's carrying it anyway?" These questions have all been posed in one way or another. And the answers are: "Everything she might need." "Because it is women, contrary to the Boy Scout motto, who are always prepared. She needs a large vessel, so that when someone sneezes she can hand them a tissue. Or so she can apply/reapply lipstick when necessary. Or so she can pull out a book to read while she waits for one of her offspring to do whatever it is he is doing." And, "Are you kidding me?!" The Purse also houses her keys and wallet and phone--things she absolutely cannot live without. 

Which is why, I was completely lost on Monday and Tuesday, after leaving my purse at my parents' house, in the midst of shuffling kids to the van, when we picked up Clay on Sunday. I realized the loss on Sunday night, when I was getting ready for bed, because I needed to set the alarm on my phone. That's when I started to feel like the breath was being sucked out of me. I tossed and turned all night, unable to get comfortable without this important appendage. I waited until 7:00 am on Monday to call my mom, unfortunately waking her, (Sorry, Mom!) to request an emergency transfer. She understood the urgency and could, no doubt, hear the life ebbing out of me, so she agreed to get The Purse overnighted to me. 

Meanwhile, my breathing became shallower and shallower, as I faced an outing later that afternoon. Jeff had a meeting and was unable to take over the chauffeur responsibilities.  Fortunately, he was able to provide some band-aids to stop the bleeding, by loaning me his van key and one of his credit cards, so I could get where I needed to go and purchase milk and bread necessary for the sustenance of my family. I was still without my ID and completely cut-off from the world, but there was nothing to be done about that. 

On Monday evening, the panic attacks became stronger, as I envisioned all the CC emergencies that must be cropping up. Through the miracle of modern Science and by a strange set of circumstances, we recently acquired a land line at our house, so I was able to check my voice mail and put my fears at bay.  But, I still didn't know what might be happening on the text front. And, then I was forced to face the lack of alarm once again. 

On Tuesday morning, I borrowed Jeff's van key once more and just enough cash to pay the CC nursery worker, which I stuffed in my mini purse, normally reserved for ridiculously fancy events that my kids are not invited to. Following my normal Tuesday routine, I made a stop at Sonic for fuel for my day, before reaching my final destination. I pressed the button and placed my order before realizing that no purse meant no wallet, and no wallet meant no money. Embarrassed and already starting to feeling the pangs of withdrawal, I was forced to cancel the order and kiss my lifeblood for the day good-bye, though I hesitated for a moment, wondering just how disappointed the babysitter would be to not be paid. 

Once at CC, I quickly realized that no purse meant no keys, and no keys meant I couldn't get into the supply closet where several necessities for the day were stored. Fortunately, the church had a spare key they were willing to loan me. 

When it was time for our general assembly to begin, one of the tutors had not arrived, and no purse meant no phone to check for voice mails, texts or emails about whether she was just running late or whether she was going to be absent. Fortunately, another tutor had heard from her, and knew she was just running late, which made all the difference for how the rest of my CC day went. 

Jeff had to physically come to the church at lunch time so that we could firm up our plan for the afternoon and evening. Because, you know, no purse meant no phone for texting and calling to take care of all the little details we need to take care of throughout a typical Tuesday just to keep our family running somewhat smoothly, and even more so on this Tuesday, which contained some atypical elements. 

But, then,  the Epic Hailstorm of 2013 changed some of the plans, and no purse meant no phone for updating statuses. Fortunately, a sweet friend loaned me her phone. 

I could not get home fast enough. And, yet, I could not speed. 'Cause, you know, no purse meant no ID, so a visit with a police officer was something I was anxious to avoid. 

I realize these are the epitome of first-world problems. I also realize that not so very many years ago, no one had a phone to carry around, and no one seemed the worse for it. But, I must admit, I have never loved FedEx or my mother more than when I saw that package sitting on my porch. Opening it was like sucking in pure oxygen, and it restored a life that had all but fizzled out. 

¿En Fuego?

At 1:15 am, the smoke alarms in our house went off. Because these kinds of things never happen at reasonable hours of the day, like 8:00 am. Jeff and I sat bolt upright, and Jeff promptly got out of bed and made his way to the bedroom door, ready to fight fire. I, on the other hand, just sat there. Because, I had no arms.

In the few seconds it took me to clear the sleepy fog from my head, I realized that I did, in fact, have arms, but they were both asleep. Fortunately, that little disability cleared up quickly, and I was able to join Jeff in the kitchen to assess the situation. He already had every light on and was inspecting the various cooking implements. There was no smell of smoke, but we were pretty unsettled, so we began a room-by-room search of the house, including the attics, and we even took our pajamaed selves outside to inspect. Just as we were about to declare the whole thing a mechanical malfunction, the alarms went off again. So, we searched again. When we still didn't turn up any smoke or fire, we began frantically looking for the owner's manual and searching online to see if we could determine, by the secret code of flashing or non-flashing lights, which smoke detector was impaired. It was another fruitless search. After a few more brief bursts of noise, the alarms finally fell silent, and we decided to call it a night. Sadly, all of our children died in this fire drill. Not one of them roused their sleepy little heads. Which is great, since it turned out to be a false alarm. But, seriously, not one of them managed to even groggily ask what was going on, which was maybe more unsettling than the thought of a fire in the first place. Today, there will be a mass changing of the smoke detector batteries, if anyone is looking for a good time.

Toddler Tired

There is a physical and mental exhaustion which cannot be reached by humans unless they are stay-at-home-moms in a household where there is a toddler running around. I seriously doubt if it can even be described in words. But, if you find yourself answering to that title, you know what I'm talking about. You. Know. (I purposely exclude those of you who have been in that position in the past but are not there now, because, thankfully, the memory is forgiving of this stage of life, remembering only chubby little fingers, lopsided smiles and huge slobbery kisses). I have been here before, and I know, intellectually, that these hard toddler days will pass. But from the throes, it is hard to have faith that such a time will come.

The day with this little incoherent mess begins with Mom trying desperately to understand what "uh-uh-uh" means before it turns into "EEEEEEE! AAAHHH! WAAAAA!" Then, the partially undressed child is taken to the changing table, where he begins attempting to remove every item touching the surface of the table, while simultaneously trying to stand and do a backflip off of it. Breakfast is relatively calm, because the child is strapped into a seat, from which the most damage he can do is throw the occasional morsel to the floor or disperse the milk from his sippy cup in a four-foot radius. The real fun begins after breakfast, when the child is released from his constraints. He immediately runs into the pantry and sweeps everything off the bottom shelf, making sure to turn all the cracker boxes upside down, insuring the powdery crumbs on the bottom fall to the floor. When Mom removes the child from the pantry and turns her attention to the mess, he makes his way over to the cabinets and begins emptying them as quickly as he possibly can, stashing many of their contents in the incredibly nasty trash can. As Mom exits the pantry (hopefully remembering to close the door behind her), she discovers this new mess, shoos the child out of the room and turns her attention to this newest domestic disaster. In the meantime, the child makes his way into other parts of the house to visit other trashcans, wreak havoc in siblings' rooms, remove every book within his reach from the bookcase and every writing utensil from the desk drawers, and splash in a potty or two, if anyone has been so careless as to leave a bathroom door cracked, even just a fraction of an inch. Before long, other members of the household demand that something be done with the menace. Mom pries some inedible object out the the child's mouth and attempts to hold him in her lap for a period of time, looking at pictures of puppies on the Internet. The child will abide the cuddling only momentarily and then goes completely limp, in an effort to slide off the mother's lap onto the floor. Once more free, he dashes off to his room, where he sets some noisy toy in motion as a cover for his empty-all-the-dresser-drawers mission. Mom catches him at this, shoos him out of the room and starts picking up the clothes and blankets, which had once been neatly folded and dust-free. When Mom leaves that room, she finds the toddler carrying some unsafe item or other from the laundry room. She stashes it in a high place just in time to hear the sound of breaking dishes coming from the kitchen. She rushes into the kitchen (hopefully remembering to close the laundry room door behind her) to find the toddler (wielding stolen silverware from the dishwasher) and a barefoot dishwasher unloading sibling surrounded by white shards of a once-nice, recently thrown ramekin. Of course, the toddler is to blame. After she vacates all the unscathed, shoeless wonders from the kitchen and says a prayer for nap time to come soon, she cleans up the broken dish. While she is doing that, the toddler slips over to the off-limits staircase and begins his assent. Mom scoops up the child and straps him into his highchair for a short break snack. When the food throwing begins, she gets the child down, just as an older sibling heads out the front door. The toddler throws himself against the door in a wailing fit, and Mom begins a myriad of unsuccessful distraction techniques. A ball eventually works. But, as Mom plays catch with the little guy, he slips past her, when she bends to retrieve a stray pass, and begins unloading the crate of things she needs for work. She relocates the crate to a higher shelf, even though it is not a good fit and seems as if it might fall if breathed on too hard. That's when the child finds one page of his sister's report, which accidentally slipped to the floor, and crumples it up into an unrecognizable mess. Mom attempts to smooth papers and feelings all at once, while the toddler makes his get-away. The momentary silenced "uh-uh-uh, " sends Mom into search mode. She finds the child in his father's office, sitting on Dad's lap, looking at pictures of puppies on the Internet. It seems briefly precious. Then, Dad puts the child on the floor and asks Mom some question or another. By the time Mom leaves, Older Sister is in a tizzy, because she can't practice the piano properly with the little man madly banging alternately on the highest and lowest keys. Once at older siblings' various lessons, the child demands to be held when set down and set down when held. Mom cannot possibly win. And, when she and her brood get home, she discovers that, despite all the cleaning and picking up during the day, the house is a complete wreck. She has accomplished nothing. She will endure one more food circus, bathe the slippery rascal, who continually tries to stand up in the tub, finally (and happily) put the child to bed, and give in to the exhaustion, by sinking into her zebra print lounger with her laptop, almost unable to form coherent thoughts, knowing she will do the same thing over again tomorrow. This woman is "toddler tired." She is afflicted body, mind and soul, and she wonders if her sanity will hold out much longer. 

It's a good thing he's super-cute!

Controlling the Chaos

The last couple of weekends have been about trying regain control of the space we occupy. It's amazing how quickly things things can get out of hand (or how they never were under control to begin with, in some cases). So here's what we've been doing:

• Jeff acquired a very nice executive desk for his office, to replace the plastic folding table he's been using for the last three years. It actually has drawers and everything, which I'm sure he'll use eventually. 
• I unburied the bench, counter and one of the dryers in the laundry room, and I'm amazed at how much usable space I have in there now! 
• The big boys and I also took on the garage (not for the first time!) and were able to clear a not-quite-van-sized path. But, it's close, and I have faith that I may actually be able to park a vehicle in there sometime in my lifetime. And the kids were totally impressed...because now they have so much more room to pile up their myriad toys. We'll work on that later.
• Making no small mess, I changed the filters in the water filter system all by myself. As a bonus, the floor in the utility room got a nice bath.
• I claimed a small section of the home school room for myself, which I set up with a desk and a bookcase, giving me a workspace that keeps me accessible to the kids during the day but clearly segregates their stuff from mine. 
• I found the floor in the storage closet upstairs, though that room still needs some serious attention. But a victory's a victory, no matter how small, so I'll take it. 
• Jeff installed some fabulous racks in the garage for storing our plastic folding chairs, further clearing up floor space in the garage and making his wife very happy indeed. 
• When we had to relegate one of the bar stools to the garage (this may be why it never quite seems to to reach it's full car-parking potential) because it was deemed unsafe for children to sit in, I decided it was finally time to bite the bullet and get some new ones. They should be arriving in the next couple of weeks, and in the meantime, the current stools and the table they go with will find a new home (freeing up a bit more space in soon-to-be-clean garage).
• Jeff changed all the AC filters. You know, you should really do that once in a blue moon, whether it needs to be done or not.
• The furniture in Clays' room received new positions, to prevent him from further damaging the blinds while he waits for someone to get him out of his bed. 
• We have talked to a landscaping company about coming out and giving us a consultation. In this case the chaos is not actively being controlled, but we've taken the first step, and that's something.

What do you do/have you done/will you do to control chaos at your house? And don't act like you don't have it, 'cause I know you do.

Time to pay the piper

On Monday, the kids went to VBS, had fast food for lunch, played at the pool, went to Martial Arts class, had dessert, watched TV and read in their beds until past the usual bed time. On Tuesday, they went to VBS, had a picnic lunch, played at the pool, ate homemade soft tacos (a house favorite) for dinner, had dessert and watched TV. On Wednesday, they went to VBS, got new Fourth of July t-shirts, had lunch at the bowling alley, bowled with all their neighborhood friends, watched an in-van movie, (one of them) got a haircut, had slushes at Sonic, went to Martial Arts class, and had dessert. Today, they cried and screamed and melted down in a variety of dramatic ways. (After going to VBS, having lunch out with Dad and running a quick errand). So, in the end, it wasn't the heat that made us miserable, it was the fun. Today, we paid the piper. Tomorrow will be better, and we'll be back to our regularly scheduled summer fun.

A story about a day

Our story begins at 12:30 am, when I was awakened from a much-needed deep sleep by death-is-upon-me screaming coming through the baby monitor. This NEVER happens, so I quickly made my way to Clay's room. Upon opening the door, I was hit square in the nostrils with a foul, foul odor. With only the hall light on for guidance, I reached for my sobbing Itty Bitty. He was soaked, and I could tell in the dim light that he had been vomiting in his bed. I spent the next thirty minutes getting him calmed down, cleaning him up and changing his bedding. He went back to bed without another peep, but I lay awake wondering what in the world I was going to do about CC. Since today was the last day of CC for the semester, I had some extra responsibilities and the kids had their hearts set on being there with their friends. I finally convinced myself that it could simply have been something Clay ate and that things would be better in the morning and I would make my decision then. Well, at 7:00 am it was clear that things were not much better. The only difference was the end that was producing the foul odors. So, I went through the process of cleaning up the child and changing the bedding once again. I knew I couldn't take him to CC and expose the other kids to whatever this might be, but I wrestled with whether to shirk my responsibilities and disappoint the older children. While stewing about what to do, I started packing lunches, reminding people to get their water bottles and backpacks, and loading an incredible amount of paraphernalia into the van--which included our regular massive amount of gear, as well as lots of last-day stuff: teacher gifts, three batches of cookies for various class parties and much, much more. Thirty minutes later, I was on the phone with my father-in-law, desperately asking if there was any way he and my mother-in-law would be willing and able to take on a sick kiddo for the day. They happily agreed, and soon arrived at the house to pick up Clay and take him to their house. I can't tell you how thankful I was! I then made another phone call to the CC director to let her know we would be a little late.

On the way, the cute little teacher gifts (potted plants) spilled their contents all over the floor under Max's feet. Ruth was close to tears, thinking her gift for her teacher was ruined. Max was close to tears as he realized he was going to have to step in that dirt in order to exit the vehicle. And I was close to tears because I had a sick kid, I was running late and now I had dirt all over my van.

We finally arrived at CC, where I single-handedly unpacked all the gear, so that the kids could go on in to the assembly time. It took For-Ever. Then, I had to set up my classroom, interrupting a class already in progress in order to procure another table. When everything was done, I turned my class over to a sub, so I could test two young ladies, individually, on all of the memory work from the whole year. I finally stepped back into my classroom five minutes before class ended--just in time to give out the participation certificates and special treats I had brought.

The afternoon was going along smoothly, until I had a chance to meet a mother visiting our campus with thoughts of joining us next year. We chatted for a while, and then I kicked in to "director mode," telling her I had registration forms, if she was interested. I walked her through the forms and explained everything as best I could, and she very sweetly listened and acted interested, and then said to me, "I actually designed these forms." Turns out, she was one of the very first directors in the state of Texas. And, she's going to be on my campus next year as I fumble my way through my first time to direct anything. Awesome.

I made it through the rest of the day just fine and then rushed Ruth over to piano lessons. It wasn't until Ruth came out of the lesson that I realized she had gone in without any shoes on. That was a first. And I still don't know what possessed her to do that. It was just another awesome aspect of the day.

Then, we were off to pick Clay up at my in-laws. Somewhere along the way I picked up a killer headache. Fortunately, my sweet father-in-law offered to make dinner for us, and I didn't put a fight. Dinner was obviously going to be way too hard for me to pull off tonight. Another bit of good news was that my in-laws reported that Clay had been happy and healthy all day and seemed to be completely over all his tummy troubles.

But, the minute we walked in the door at our house, he proved that the tummy troubles were not completely behind us. Even now, I seem not to be able to get the stench out of my nose.

I got him cleaned up and put to bed, and then turned my attention to the packing that needs to be done before we can leave on our trip tomorrow. And Jeff got home in the midst of that. Woohoo! Just the bright spot I needed. Unfortunately, I have yet to get back to the packing. Or to vacuuming up the spilled dirt in the van. Or to a million other things that need to be done before we leave. And, frankly, I'm thinking about just ignoring all that stuff. Though, I'm having a hard time ignoring the 4-year-old crying (still!) because he doesn't want to go to bed.

If you need me this weekend, I'll be on the beach. With a fruity little drink in my hand.

The End.

Sweet Tuesday

On Mondays, Max goes to preschool from 8:15-3:15, while the older two are doing their school work here at home. We usually try to squeeze in a few errands and a trip to the library after we pick up Max and before Ruth has to be at her Martial Arts class at 5:15. That class ends at 6:00, and we either have to try to scarf down some fast food before Cub Scouts at 6:30, if Jeff is out of town and I have all the kiddos with me. Or, we rush home to eat before everyone is at their breaking point, just in time see Jeff and Weston off to Scouts, if Jeff happens to be in town. Cub Scouts ends between 7:30 and 7:45, so it's just about bedtime when we get home. On Wednesdays, we repeat the whole scenario, just leaving off the Cub Scout meeting. On Thursdays, we are at CC from 8:30-3:45, and then Ruth has piano lessons from 4:00-4:30. Fridays have Max back at preschool. And, here lately, we've also thrown in a Friday field trip, an out-of-town weekend trip, a Saturday birthday party, a visit to the orthodontist and a neighborhood get-together. I feel like I'm running all the time!

Ah, but then there's Tuesday. We have no extracurricular activities planned on that day, and I feel like I can breath. That's my day to get stuff done around the house. To actually cook a meal for my family--maybe even trying a new recipe. To prepare the material I will be presenting in CC on Thursday. To exchange emails with long-time friends. To plan upcoming birthday parties. To do a little online shopping. To take a walk with my family in the evening. To read books to my kids before bed.

Don't get me wrong; I love our full and busy life. But, I'm so thankful for Tuesday, that wonderful day of rest!

A house full of stuff

It's official!

Favorite box of the day.
(That's an almost six-foot-tall, bubble-wrapped giraffe, poking his head out for a peek at the new place).