Oh, Just A Typical Morning...

Does anybody else drool in their sleep? Anybody? Because I do. I don't remember doing that when I was a kid, or really even as a teenager. But as an adult? Oh yeah. It's gross. Like a St. Bernard I am. It's a wonder I don't wake up dehydrated. That's how I awoke this fine morning. At least it's not every morning.

Then after I wiped the spittle trail from my cheek, I turned to see Ryan in the room. He'd just come in to tell me that "Amy can't open her eyes!" Well, that sounded interesting. I headed downstairs to find Amy, lying supine on the futon, forearm across her eyes. She could open the right eye, but the left eye looked a little swollen. She could hold it open, but couldn't just open those blond-lashed lids; it hurt too much.

Between Adrienne and I, we used a cell phone flashlight (sure does come in handy!) to peer into those baby blues. Amy held her eye open. I held the light. Adrienne looked to see if she could see anything that could be the cause of the distress. Light hurt Amy's eyes but it was kinda funny. You see, she has these amazing blue eyes and usually her pupils are larger, more noticeable. Shine a light in and wow, do those pupils constrict. She could be the model for science class the day the eyeball is discussed. But, back to the I-am-in-pain-something-is-in-there-I-think moment.

Adrienne thought she spied a hair on the surface of the orb. Amy did not want her touching her eyeball. I couldn't see a thing. Really, I couldn't because I'd left my glasses upstairs. So, getting a Q-tip we thought the hair-thing could be snagged. Amy said to make it wet first. Adrienne suggested that Amy put it in her mouth to moisten it. Amy and I looked at Adrienne with a "that is a weird and odd suggestion" and suggested that tap water would be just fine. Once she came back with the wet Q-tip, poised it ready over the eye, and Amy opened her eye, rolling it around so beautifully, we couldn't find whatever it was we'd seen before.

Amy decided to go look for herself in the mirror but then realized she didn't have her contacts in and it was pointless. Then she suggested that I look in the bathroom trash can for the tiny, clear, nearly invisible lenses. In case one of them had torn in her eye. I tried. I really did, but there is just some things a mother can't do. Sifting through the bathroom trash is one of them. I'd had enough to do with spit already.

But then, she suddenly realized that her eye was open of it's own accord. She was back in business. I looked out the bathroom window whilst she got in the shower. Then I turned and looked into the sink. From one side to the other was leftover toothpaste foam and spit.
Amy: "Oh Adrienne always does that."
Me: "Seriously, she can't rinse it down?"
(On a side-note, when this girl brushes her teeth, she means business. She looks like she has rabies with all the foam she produces. She could be the tooth brushing demonstrator at the dentist. )
Amy: "I take water and lick it down."
Me: "What?! You lick it down?!"
Amy: "FLICK! I flick it down, with water."
Much laughter ensues.

But where was Heather in all this drama? I went to her room and knocked. She was just sitting up, no spittle noticed anywhere in evidence, her eyes open, no foaming at the mouth. Was she the only normal female in this house? Then when I told her it was getting late, she just shrugged, "It's Saturday." Umm, sorry but it's Friday. She stepped it into high gear really fast. So maybe she does not know what day it is, but compared to the rest of us, still pretty normal I'd say.

And that is how a morning goes some days in this household. May you all feel either "more normal" after reading this or at the very least that you are not alone in the everyday things of life.

Have a Good Day!
Dianne

When a Hallmark Moment Leads…Go!

It's all Amy's fault. She started it with her one little comment on Facebook:

"I can only take so much Hallmark……."

The conversation that ensued was delightful; invigorating while sparking something in me that I didn't know was there.  Actually, lack of sleep will do that too, as in everything becomes just a little more silly, a little more random, a little more….well, here's a quote from our conversation, inspired by the endless array of Hallmark Holiday movies:

"... A coffee shop. A widow. Or widower. Perfect snowfalls. Cute, darling children. A lost pet that the gentleman with perfect teeth returns to it's owner who, of course works in the coffee shop (the 2nd of her three jobs) just to pay the rent on her teeny tiny 2 room loft apartment which is over a shoe store where a cobbler mends her shoes just in time to be dressed for the dance at Joe's Crab Shack down by the bay. Where of course Mr. Perfect Teeth likes to go on Thursdays for the all-you-can-eat-crab-legs. But what is this? He has an injury and the lost pet happens to be a rescue dog and as he is drowning his sorrow in ice-tea and crab legs, who should waltz in but Ms 3 Jobs. And it is love."

(Stay tuned. The ending is at the end. The P.S.)


And to think, this random Hallmark moment came after only one cup of caffeine  coffee this evening. Inspired I tell you, inspired.

Or just the ramblings of a tired mind that has been overexposed the last few weeks to the predictable, happily-ever-after story lines that make up November and December on the Hallmark channel. Not that these story's are wrong or harmful to watch, they are just not always reliable pictures of reality.

Reality that says not every ending is happy, and there are children who will go to bed hungry tonight. And let's not forget the mother whose arms ache to hold that which was snatched from her. Or the dad who really has exhausted every resource and now he has to tell his wife and kids that the next step is the street. And what about the reality for many who are facing large college debts, have a degree but no job? Or the one living with regret over harsh words she can never take back?

Okay, Hallmark does have something in that they show stories of people in hard circumstances, overcoming grief and heartache, regaining a positive attitude. They are trying to show uplifting, encouraging moments to touch the hearts of those watching. But, their happy endings are because everything falls into place perfectly. The timing is impeccable, the setting is romantic to the extreme. In real life? Not always so.

I keep thinking of a song, an ancient hymn often sung during Advent as we anticipate the birth of Jesus,  the Saviour that was anticipated to save us all, not from every hurt, every unhappy ending, but to give us hope in eternal life, a different kind of happyly-ever-after. He would be the one to see me through the hard times, walking with me in the midst of the mess. He never promised my life would be a Hallmark movie, but I'll take it.

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o'er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Love,
Dianne

P.S.Mr Perfect Teeth reluctantly returned the dog to Ms 3 jobs. He leaves the Crab Shack, stumbling out the door. The next morning, he hears a strange noise when he wakes up. (No, it's not from what he ate the night before.) He makes his way downstairs and finds, next to a freshly brewed cup of coffee, a note. As it directs him to look outside, he does, and there he sees a puppy. With a Christmas bow. And next to the puppy is Ms 3 Jobs who has decided on a new career of training dogs for service to those in need of a companion to assist. Music cues. They walk towards each other. They pause in the doorway, mistletoe dangles above them….

Goodwill is Just The Thing

Sometimes a trip to Goodwill is "just the thing".

"Just the thing" to do to have a little fun with your daughter. 

Of course, it helps if she tries clothing on. 

Like, oh let's say, a jacket. 

A really cute jacket. 

She even agreed.

Then, this happened:

Oh great…now what do we do?

Break the zipper completely? 

Oh no, let's work it down to the bottom instead. 

Tooth by tooth by tooth.

Painstakingly slowly.

Oh, but it was funny.

At least Mama thought it was funny. 

Now now Amy, you know you want to laugh. 

Then, finally, amidst bursts of snorted laughter and giggles

(as we tried to look inconspicuous),

the zipper came free and thus Amy was freed from the jacket.

And then she says, "Can we still get it?" 

"Can we still get it?'

Seriously.

I liked the jacket first, before her. 

Not anymore. 

She bought a dress, a skirt and something else (I forget).

But no jacket. Not today.

Yes, sometimes a trip to Goodwill is just the thing. 

Love,

Dianne

Yesterday…Quite a Day.

Yesterday was yesterday. I'd rather not repeat it.

Not that it was a bad day, it was just a day. 

Let's see. 

I got off work, slept about an hour, ran a few errands, then got home. I did a few work-related phone calls, worked on my schedule and to-do lists for the next two weeks, straightened up the house and put a load of laundry in. 

Walking up to get Ryan off the bus, I thought about the cupcakes I needed to make yet today so he'd have them for school tomorrow. Maybe I'd get them done before leaving for the girl's volleyball game. 

I didn't. 

The game was nail-biting. They lost one, won one, lost one, won one, then won the tie-breaker. I think my blood pressure went up a bit and the people around me probably wished I'd go sit down and quit pacing. I can't help it!

So home again, home again jiggity-jig. I still had cupcakes to bake. 

I started. I had ingredients in the bowl by 10pm. Then the  phone rang. Nora, the girl's horse, was frisking about, on the wrong side of the fence. 

Cupcakes on hold, we drove off gallantly to put things right. 

"Mom, just leave the car lights on. So we can see." 

(Uh-huh. Remember that part.)

The lovely Nora was enjoying the grass, which actually was greener on the this side of the fence.

Go figure. 

"You want me to go where? Now? Why? I like it out here." 

If I was Nora, I'd be thinking this:

"If I stay on this side of the gate, these girls pick the fresh grass and feed it to me. Go back? Nah!"

In the end, she did go back, quite nicely. 

My girls, horse whisperers. 

(Ignore the creepy horse eye.)

Okay, that's done. We are all freezing now and head back to the car. 

We need gloves. 

We need another jacket. 

We need jumper cables.

No kidding. 

My car battery is dead and no one is around to give us a jump. We could hitch the frisky horse to the car and tow it home…

We called Adrienne instead. Between the two of us, we got the cables attached correctly, no one got shocked and my car started. She's quite a gal! A flashlight would have been helpful, but right when we needed a light, my cell phone battery died. The way this was going, let's just say I was thankful I didn't have a pacemaker battery to worry about. 

Home again, home again jiggly-jig. Same song, second verse. 

By now, it's after midnight. My night shift brain has forgotten that I haven't slept more than an hour since Sunday morning and I still have cupcakes to finish. The kids went to bed, I baked. 

Gingerbread cupcakes. 

Spicy. 

Mmmmmm. 

 Suffice it to say that yesterday was a day.
What's today got that can beat that?

Love,
Dianne

Great Expectations

Expectations. To expect something. What does that mean? (And really, the more I say expect and expectations and spell it, the funnier it looks.)

Expect is to look forward (Merriam-Webster). Expectation is to be in the act or state of expecting (Merriam-Webster).

Expectations can be good or bad. Like, what I am expecting work to be like this weekend, or what I am expecting to do on my next vacation. And sometimes what we expect isn't what really happens or occurs when it comes down to it, and often we are disappointed.

Amy is working on a project for the life-sized CandyLand game the youth group is doing tomorrow. She is a fabulous artist with all kinds of talent (I may be her mother, and just a little biased, but she is really good!) and she can come up with drawings/paintings in a matter of hours that amaze me.

So there you have it. My expectations for this project are high because she has set the bar high. Not only are my expectations high, but so are many others who have seen her artwork. And therein lies the problem for Amy.










She is having a hard time coming up with an idea that meets what she thinks the expectations are. She has already scrapped a couple of ideas, even painting over some of what she had already had done. Right now, she is starting over completely, flipping over the board she is working on to come up with something new.

So much concentration...

The first side of the board that she decided not to use...

Okay, so she made this face just for me, but she has looked sad all morning :(

Amy is frustrated by her expectations. She is frustrated by what others are expecting from her. And it is making her unable to enjoy what she normally loves to do.  So, I hugged her and we prayed together because even what seems like small details in life are important to God. 

Then we brainstormed and looked on the internet for ideas and we found something that she thinks will work. Now if she can just keep those expectations under control and just enjoy the process. 

Expectations. Expectations. Expectations. Expectations. 

See what I mean? The more you focus on expectations, the funnier it looks and doesn't make as much sense anymore. Kinda like focusing too much on the real thing. 

And how did the project end? She is still working on it, but it will be at Salisbury School tomorrow for CandyLand (hey, you all can come on over and check it out!). I can tell you that this time around, she is at least looking happy as she works on it.

Love,

Dianne 

Slalom, Slush, and Snowplow

Last evening, my sister-in-law, Karen, took Amy and Heather to The Wisp to go skiing for their very first time. I haven't had a chance to talk to them, but the videos Karen posted looked like they had a blast!

I am glad they had fun. I am pleased that their first experience on skis was a positive one. I sure wish mine had been...

When I was in 5th Grade at Accident Elementary School (at least I think it was 5th grade), our class went to The Wisp Ski Resort in McHenry MD for the day. Despite not owning any "official" ski clothing or having any experience, I was excited.  That morning, I layered on lots of clothes and headed to school. Soon, a busload of happy kids was headed for the slopes.

Upon arrival, we were fitted with boots and skis and shown how to put them on and also how to stand with them on. This skill of attaching your ski to your boot was a very necessary one for me to learn, because every single time I fell down, which I might add was frequent, my ski would fall off. I spent half the time there on the ground reattaching equipment.

Once we had boots and skis, we headed out in small groups to the beginner slope to have a ski lesson. You know, the basics. How to start, stop, snowplow, reattach skis, etc.

My instructor liked everyone in our group but me.

No, really. When a student learned the snowplow technique, he would move them to the next group to advance their skills. After a few attempts, not counting the one where I got turned around and was going backwards towards the parking lot, I figured out how to snowplow. I never got moved up to the next level. He never even told me I did a good job.

Oh, the heartbreak of a 10 year old on skis.

After the lesson, we were on our own. I was off to tackle the rope tow. It certainly looked easy enough. Just grab ahold of the rope gently and as you do, it will pull you up the hill. 


For the record, they lied.

Every time I got the rope and did what they said to do, it would violently jerk me forward, and with my face planted in the snow, would begin to drag me up the hill. I could hear voices yelling, "Let go! Roll out of the way!" They didn't need to tell me twice as there were people behind me, successfully managing the rope and they would've skied right over me.

The next thing I tried was walking up the hill (still the beginners slope), turning around and skiing down. I think that only happened twice. The first time, I plowed into an unsuspecting person and knocked them down, nearly skewering them with my pole. The second time, I ended up in the row of pine trees that divided the slopes.

The best part of the whole day was eating lunch.

My grand ski adventure never got off the beginner's slope. And I never tried it again.

Watching my girls ski made me think that maybe I should try it again. Maybe I could actually ski. Maybe I should add that to my list of life goals. I've never broken a bone before; what better way to try?

And maybe, just maybe, that ski instructor is retired...

Love,
Dianne

The Torture Photo Session

2011

This morning, 9am.
Be at the tree. 
Look Festive. 
It's Christmas Photo by the Tree time!
No, I don't care what you wear.
Yes, you need to look somewhat presentable.
No, this is not for Christmas cards.
Yes, it will most likely show up on my blog.
No, you can't sit like that for the picture!
Yes, please look like you are enjoying this.

Hang on guys, I can't get the lighting right...

Okay, still trying to figure out the lighting...

Okay, last one. Make it goofy (like they really had to try hard for that!)

And after about 20 pictures, we got 1 or 2 that everyone was looking the right direction, and looking normal...Thank you Adrienne, Aaron, Amy, Heather and Ryan!!!!! I love you bunches and bunches!!!

Home is Where The Heart Is

The gifts are wrapped, the lights are up and for the most part, the cards are either delivered or in the mail. There are just a few that I am trying to find the current address for. You don't realize how much of a mobile society we are until you try to find addresses. (Phone numbers are a whole other ballgame!)

In the 23 years we've been married, we have lived 5 different places.

Our first home was in an apartment over Lura Folk's garage in Springs PA. We were there 3 sweet years. Our marriage started there and we brought our first baby, Adrienne, home to that apartment. I don't have a single photo of the outside of our apartment, but here is just a sample...

Leo and Adrienne...awwwww...reading farming magazines together

That's my man!

The second place we lived was in a trailer down by Leonard's parents. Small home, but large with memories.  Aaron was born while we lived here and so in our little trailer, the 4 of us lived and learned about life with toddlers. We were here for 3 years.

Dec 1992 Snowstorm! I am pregnant with Aaron.

Wootsie and Leonard

Adrienne and Aaron eating PB&J in the kitchen

Leonard and Adrienne heading to Paps to do the chores. A favorite of mine.

Then, we felt led to the mission field and while that didn't take us to a far-off country, it did take us to Louisville, KY for 2 years. Of course, coming from the country, living in a city felt a bit like a foreign country to us. So much was learned there and neither of us would ever trade the time we spend there. There is certainly a part of us that still calls Louisville "home". And, while we were there, Amy joined our family!
I have my KY album all put together so I didn't pull pictures out for here. Guess you'll just have to come visit if you want to see more. :)

2217 Bonnycastle Ave

Aaron and Adrienne; another favorite pic of mine.

In January 1997, we moved back to the area we had been away from. For 3 months, we lived at my grandparents farmhouse in Accident MD while they were still in Florida. That was an interesting time of living out of boxes and suitcases with a 5yr old, a 3yr old, and a 1 month old. It was an adjustment going from being shepherded by a mission organization, to figuring out what we were going to do now to make a life for ourselves.

MD Bearcreek Farm

The kids with my Dad 

Amy and Adrienne with Grandpa. He and Gordon would come in for breakfast after morning chores. The kids always enjoyed that time.

Another picture from our short stay at Grandpa Bender's farm.
Aaron, Amy, and Adrienne with Leonard

April 1 1997 was moving day! We ended up on the farm where we currently are living. The past 14 years have been a roller coaster of farming, nursing school, kids starting Kindergarten and graduating high school, and of course, adding Heather and Ryan to our family unit.

Home Sweet Farm

Carrot Harvest
Heather and Amy

Adrienne, me and Amy

And then there were 5....

We have been blessed in so many ways by each of the places we have lived and by people that we have met along the way. I am thankful for the ways in which God has provided!

"By wisdom a house is built, and through understanding it is established; through knowledge its rooms are filled with rare and beautiful treasures." Proverbs 24: 3-4


"As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord." Joshua 24:15

Christmas Photos

Every year at Christmas I try to get a photo of the kids either by the tree or somewhere else for Christmas cards. I thought I'd share some with you all today. I like to look back and remember. I think my kids would like to tell you how much they look forward to this time and that the bonding that occurs makes the torture photo session worth it.

I don't have a photo from last Christmas because a little boy borrowed the camera and kindly deleted ALL the photos on the card. Then he hid the camera behind the couch. In his defense, I don't think he meant to delete them; I think he was just checking them out and....oops.

But...there is always this year...so get ready for the photo session my 5 little pretties....muwahhh ha ha ha...

2003

2004

2005

2006

2007

2008

I am trying to find (either on the computer or in my many stacks of photos) of 2009...Maybe I'll have to find some of the ones that never made it to the Christmas card Hall of Fame. Cause some of those are kinda funny. : )

I've seen the movie!

Today is Amy's 15th birthday. Happy Birthday! I love you! For one of her gifts she got a riding helmet. For horses, not motorcycles. And when I think of horses, I think of the classic story of Black Beauty.


I read that book numerous times growing up; a favorite along with The Wizard of Oz and The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe (part of The Chronicles of Narnia). The funny thing is, when I asked my family if they'd ever read Black Beauty, all my children said "No..."

..."but I did watch the movie."

Gasp! Have I failed as a parent? How could my oldest 3 escape childhood without having read Black Beauty? I mean, really! We live on a farm, AND we have horses!

Amy this past Spring

Heather this summer

But, wait just a second. Have I read books that are considered "classic"? Like The Grapes of Wrath, Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, or Treasure Island? Have I ever read classics by Charles Dickens, other than A Christmas Carol?

Oh wait, I saw that as a movie.

So, maybe over the next couple of days, as I relax with a hot mug of coffee and something deliciously baked, I will explore a classic, a book that has stood the test of time. Any suggestions?

And, of course, one cannot overlook the classic of all time: The Bible. I do believe that the first chapters of Luke are on the reading list.

So, you NEVER get sick?

About 2 days ago, me and a few of my kids were taking about how so many "bugs" are going around right now. The nurse in me is emphasizing the washing of hands to keep the germs away. Amy proclaimed loudly, "I NEVER get sick!"

I warned her not to say that. Adrienne told me not to be superstitious. I said that I didn't think I was, but that Amy still shouldn't say that. It was like being prideful and "pride goes before a fall." So what does Amy do then? She says it again!

Last night, on our way home from shopping, my cell phone rings. Heather was calling to tell me that Amy was sick and could I bring home some soda for her.

"I NEVER get sick!"

So, instead of baking cookies with my mom and sister Valerie today, I am taking care of Amy. I never like when my family is sick and I just want to help them feel better. She is camped out on the couch, with tea, tissues, and cough drops. Her temperature is 101.5F and it's time for more Tylenol.

I asked her this morning how she would feel if I left for the day since she is turning 15 on Saturday and could probably take care of herself. She did not like that idea. She said that when any of us (meaning her or her siblings) are sick, it is comforting to have me here. So, I am here where I want to be, being her mom.

Feel better soon Amos!

PS. The search for red shoes came up empty...so far.. I mean, really, do they really think I can stand, let alone walk, in 6 inch heels?

Hangin' the lights

Amy, Ryan and I hung the LED white lights on the barn door tonight. I am not sure how people who do a lot of decorating outside make it look so good! It is not as easy as it should be.