In the on-going war with trying to get my kids to eat healthier, I finally resorted to Jessica's Seinfeld's book Deceptively Delicious. I have yet to use it, but I have perused it. I can report that my kids have yet to eat vegetables by just perusing it. Dang! :(
Seriously, though. It sounds like a great concept. Puree veges and sneak them into food. So what if your mac n cheese is green, the kids will never taste that you put spinach in it! Skimming over the part about she and Jerry making purees together in their kitchen on Sundays . . .with their money, wouldn't they have a cook? Or a butler? But back to the purees, I wondered if I could just go buy a jar of baby food and dump it in my recipe. I mean, it's already pureed, and I didn't even have to do it. Come to find out, there is no pureed cauliflower for babies, and I couldn't seem to find spinach, either. I swear there was spinach when I was spoon feeding my kids.
Needless to say, I have not pureed. Not yet. But my intention is still there.
But here's the funny part.
My kids found the cookbook and looked through it. It also happened to be the same day I made brownies for when they came home from school. Next thing I know, Esther says, "Mom! Did you put carrots in these?"
I seriously had no idea what she was getting at. I wouldn't ruin perfectly good brownies by putting carrots in them. What was she talking about? "What? Why would I do that?"
"Because of that cookbook. Did you put carrots in these? I saw the cookbook, you know."
Then I laughed, because I hadn't done anything with that cookbook other than look at it and see if the store carried pureed cauliflower.
"Nope. No carrots."
Esther eyed me suspiciously, "Are you sure?"
"Very sure," I reassured her. And we all ate brownies happily ever after.
I still have yet to use the cookbook. But I laugh at how my kids were deceptively deluded. Hopefully when I DO use the cookbook, they won't have any clue.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Brace Yourself Honey, It's Gonna Be Expensive!
My oldest child needs braces. Poor guy, he inherited not only my good looks, but my crooked, crooked teeth. Granted, now my teeth are not crooked. But it took four longs years of braces to fix that. And now, he's facing life with braces and he is none too happy about it.
Knowing how long I had mine, and the palate expander, and other various contaptions (luckily, I never had head gear), I knew his braces prognosis was not going to be particularly pretty. And, it wasn't. To the tune of over $5,000.00 not pretty.
As luck would have it, our dental plan has no orthodontic insurance. Great.
Oh, and have I mentioned the oral surgery he needs?
Yes, he needs to have several teeth extracted, one tooth chained to gently yet forcefully "guide" it to it's rightful, natural position in his mouth. Sounds lovely, doesn't it. And last but not least, he may or may not have a bone cyst in the back part of his lower jaw. Could it get any better?
Supposedly insurance covers the oral surgery. We'll see. Dubious would be a good adjective for my thoughts about that.
The only upside to oral surgery is he would be under for the procedure. I wonder if they'd be willing to put me under too, just a little? It might dull the physical and financial pain I am going to have to endure.
My son does not understand that by getting braces put on, I am really doing him a favor. Even if it costs me a small fortune. He keeps trying to do ME a favor and tell me he doesn't need braces. But that really wouldn't be doing him a favor.
Someday he will thank me. Someday he will understand that I am willingly inflicting pain on him for the next (possibly) four years because I love him and want the best for him. Someday he will appreciate how his dad and I willingly inflicted (serious) pain on our finances to give him a beautiful smile.
And now I am going to start saving for when my last child, who also is a carbon copy of me, needs braces. Cause I know she will.
Lucky me.
Knowing how long I had mine, and the palate expander, and other various contaptions (luckily, I never had head gear), I knew his braces prognosis was not going to be particularly pretty. And, it wasn't. To the tune of over $5,000.00 not pretty.
As luck would have it, our dental plan has no orthodontic insurance. Great.
Oh, and have I mentioned the oral surgery he needs?
Yes, he needs to have several teeth extracted, one tooth chained to gently yet forcefully "guide" it to it's rightful, natural position in his mouth. Sounds lovely, doesn't it. And last but not least, he may or may not have a bone cyst in the back part of his lower jaw. Could it get any better?
Supposedly insurance covers the oral surgery. We'll see. Dubious would be a good adjective for my thoughts about that.
The only upside to oral surgery is he would be under for the procedure. I wonder if they'd be willing to put me under too, just a little? It might dull the physical and financial pain I am going to have to endure.
My son does not understand that by getting braces put on, I am really doing him a favor. Even if it costs me a small fortune. He keeps trying to do ME a favor and tell me he doesn't need braces. But that really wouldn't be doing him a favor.
Someday he will thank me. Someday he will understand that I am willingly inflicting pain on him for the next (possibly) four years because I love him and want the best for him. Someday he will appreciate how his dad and I willingly inflicted (serious) pain on our finances to give him a beautiful smile.
And now I am going to start saving for when my last child, who also is a carbon copy of me, needs braces. Cause I know she will.
Lucky me.
Monday, September 19, 2011
It's Like Waiting For That Boy To Call
You know, back in the dating days, when you went out with a boy that you really like, that you think is perfect, that you think you could easily fall in love with? Yeah, that boy that ends the date with "I had a really good time. I'll call you," and you wait and wait and wait for him to call?
You don't expect, but secretly hope, that he will call the next day. Isn't that, like, dating protocol? To wait at least one day before calling, so as to not look too anxious. So if date night was Friday night, you think maybe Sunday he will call. But then Sunday comes and the hours tortuously tick away without the phone ringing. Okay, maybe he is really busy with church, or something.
Monday will definitely be the day he calls. Because then he won't seem too anxious and he can make plans for the next weekend. Plans with you, that is. Instead of going to the library to study, like you need to, you go home and wait by the phone (this is back in my college days, when we didn't have cell phones.) Or, you keep checking your messages, emails and facebook page to see if there is any sort of anything you can remotely consider him contacting you. Nope. Nothing.
Tuesday is going to be the day. You just know it. And it's the perfect day to call for a date on Friday. You spend another day staring at your phone, checking any sort of messaging, waiting for his. The refresh button on your computer is started to wear out.
Wednesday you are just mad. What is his problem? If he said he was going to call, why hasn't he called? How dare he promise to do that and then not. Or, if he really didn't like you, and had a really bad time, and really didn't want to call you, then why did he say he had a good time and would call? Maybe he should have ended it with a handshake and a thanks!
Thursday, well, maybe, just maybe, he left your phone number in his jeans pocket and washed them? Maybe his phone got stolen? Maybe his computer crashed? Maybe his car crashed with him in it and he's too injured to get to a phone to call you and ask you out? There has to be a darn good excuse why he hasn't called you. And yet, with all the excuses, still no call.
By Friday, you just hate him. You are spitting nails and saying his name laced with venom. Fine! If that's how it's going to be then you can move on. You didn't like him that much anyway. Besides, he chewed his pasta weird. You'll show him that you don't care. (But still, secretly you wonder, why hasn't he called?)
Saturday is the day that your phone battery dies because you checked it so many times yesterday and you fell asleep staring at it, willing for it to ring, wishing for telepathy. Since the weekend is practically over, you plug in the phone, trudge to the grocery store, eat a bag of oreo's and watch some really crappy made-for-tv movie about some heartbroken girl trying to move on some personal tragedy. You could relate, since you were currently living in the middle of your own personal dating tragedy. You check your phone one last time before going to bed at 11:30 pm, and there it is, one missed called.
And of course, it's him. And of course, he called when you were home, watching the pathetic movie stuffing your face with shortening laced cookies. And of course, it's too late to call him now. Bummer.
Sometimes there's a perfectly good reason for his silence, like his mom was in the hospital and he was out of town, or his grandma died, or his phone really was stolen, or he really washed your number in his laundry. Whatever the reason, you are so excited to hear from him. And so what if he eats his pasta a little weird?
Or you never hear from him and need to get over it or get another man, whichever one comes easily or quickest.
My whole point to this (yes, there is a point to this) is waiting for that guy to call is like waiting for my book to be accepted for publication. When you send in a manuscript, the general rule is that you will hear in 8-12 weeks. I heard at 12 weeks that they had received my manuscript. So that was good news. Next it was going to be evaluated. That's another 4-6 months. After that you will either hear a "no thank you" or you won't hear anything until after it goes to the deciding committee (the final YES or NO). All in all, it takes a little more time than I realized. But if the outcome is a YES then theoretically I should be happy to wait for however long it takes. But instant gratification is apparantly not in the business of book publishing.
So I wait.
I'm sure I'll hear any day now. Maybe they're all on vacation? Maybe they all got food poisoning after a catered company meeting? Maybe the flu hit Utah early this year? Maybe all their computers crashed, wiping out everything . . .
You don't expect, but secretly hope, that he will call the next day. Isn't that, like, dating protocol? To wait at least one day before calling, so as to not look too anxious. So if date night was Friday night, you think maybe Sunday he will call. But then Sunday comes and the hours tortuously tick away without the phone ringing. Okay, maybe he is really busy with church, or something.
Monday will definitely be the day he calls. Because then he won't seem too anxious and he can make plans for the next weekend. Plans with you, that is. Instead of going to the library to study, like you need to, you go home and wait by the phone (this is back in my college days, when we didn't have cell phones.) Or, you keep checking your messages, emails and facebook page to see if there is any sort of anything you can remotely consider him contacting you. Nope. Nothing.
Tuesday is going to be the day. You just know it. And it's the perfect day to call for a date on Friday. You spend another day staring at your phone, checking any sort of messaging, waiting for his. The refresh button on your computer is started to wear out.
Wednesday you are just mad. What is his problem? If he said he was going to call, why hasn't he called? How dare he promise to do that and then not. Or, if he really didn't like you, and had a really bad time, and really didn't want to call you, then why did he say he had a good time and would call? Maybe he should have ended it with a handshake and a thanks!
Thursday, well, maybe, just maybe, he left your phone number in his jeans pocket and washed them? Maybe his phone got stolen? Maybe his computer crashed? Maybe his car crashed with him in it and he's too injured to get to a phone to call you and ask you out? There has to be a darn good excuse why he hasn't called you. And yet, with all the excuses, still no call.
By Friday, you just hate him. You are spitting nails and saying his name laced with venom. Fine! If that's how it's going to be then you can move on. You didn't like him that much anyway. Besides, he chewed his pasta weird. You'll show him that you don't care. (But still, secretly you wonder, why hasn't he called?)
Saturday is the day that your phone battery dies because you checked it so many times yesterday and you fell asleep staring at it, willing for it to ring, wishing for telepathy. Since the weekend is practically over, you plug in the phone, trudge to the grocery store, eat a bag of oreo's and watch some really crappy made-for-tv movie about some heartbroken girl trying to move on some personal tragedy. You could relate, since you were currently living in the middle of your own personal dating tragedy. You check your phone one last time before going to bed at 11:30 pm, and there it is, one missed called.
And of course, it's him. And of course, he called when you were home, watching the pathetic movie stuffing your face with shortening laced cookies. And of course, it's too late to call him now. Bummer.
Sometimes there's a perfectly good reason for his silence, like his mom was in the hospital and he was out of town, or his grandma died, or his phone really was stolen, or he really washed your number in his laundry. Whatever the reason, you are so excited to hear from him. And so what if he eats his pasta a little weird?
Or you never hear from him and need to get over it or get another man, whichever one comes easily or quickest.
My whole point to this (yes, there is a point to this) is waiting for that guy to call is like waiting for my book to be accepted for publication. When you send in a manuscript, the general rule is that you will hear in 8-12 weeks. I heard at 12 weeks that they had received my manuscript. So that was good news. Next it was going to be evaluated. That's another 4-6 months. After that you will either hear a "no thank you" or you won't hear anything until after it goes to the deciding committee (the final YES or NO). All in all, it takes a little more time than I realized. But if the outcome is a YES then theoretically I should be happy to wait for however long it takes. But instant gratification is apparantly not in the business of book publishing.
So I wait.
I'm sure I'll hear any day now. Maybe they're all on vacation? Maybe they all got food poisoning after a catered company meeting? Maybe the flu hit Utah early this year? Maybe all their computers crashed, wiping out everything . . .
Saturday, September 10, 2011
My loose interpretation of "Schedule"
I have a cute little sign that says, "Welcome to my loose interpretation of clean." I find it hilarious, because that is my attitude toward housework. My husband, who prefers to have the house a little cleaner than my "loose interpretation", does not find the sign so funny. In fact, I think he secretly tries to hide it when I'm not around. But, with that said, I want to clarify that I am not a total slacker living in complete filth. The dishes get done, the laundry gets washed, the floors get vacuumed, I'm just not obsessed with getting it done. (In fact, as I write, I'm in my bedroom blogging instead of being out in the living room spearheading the Saturday morning clean up! :) )
I am the same way about being scheduled. I am not one of those people that have their whole day scheduled. I have some friends that are that scheduled. And bless their hearts, because I could not keep up their pace. It stresses me out just hearing about their busy schedule. My schedule revolves around my kids going to school. I'm glad that it has started and it gives us just enough structure to our days. But this year, the school district mixed things up by changing the school starting times and it has completely screwed me up and after two weeks of school, I have yet to adjust to this new schedule.
Last year, Emmett went to middle school from 8 am-2:30 pm. He was picked up by our carpool in the morning, so getting him off to school mainly consisted of making sure he did not walk out the front door with a milk mustache.
The girls went to elementary school from 9 am - 3:30 pm. So I had time to shower in the morning before I took them to school. Because I actually had to get out of my car and be seen, getting ready for the day usually needed to get done. Since I always have a bad case of bed head, it sort of made showering a priority. I wasn't anxious to share my bed head with the whole school.
But now the school district has mixed up the schedule. The girls need to be to school by 7:50 and Emmett needs to be to school by 9:00. So now, I have to be ready to get the girls out the door by 7:30 to get them to school and Eve to the Kindergarten yard. Then I feel the need to stay with Eve until the bell rings, because she just seems so young and little to just leave in the school yard (even though there are other kids there). Then I get home, and have a half hour before Emmett needs to go to school. I'm driving the morning part of the carpool instead of the afternoon, so when I get home from dropping kids off at 9:00, I have until 10:30 before I need to go pick Eve up from school.
This has completely screwed me up. So even though I am not a tighly-scheduled person, my loose interpretation of a schedule like the one I had last year has been completely messed up by the school schedules.
But enough whining and complaining. At least the kids are back in school and the long, hot summer is over, right?
I am the same way about being scheduled. I am not one of those people that have their whole day scheduled. I have some friends that are that scheduled. And bless their hearts, because I could not keep up their pace. It stresses me out just hearing about their busy schedule. My schedule revolves around my kids going to school. I'm glad that it has started and it gives us just enough structure to our days. But this year, the school district mixed things up by changing the school starting times and it has completely screwed me up and after two weeks of school, I have yet to adjust to this new schedule.
Last year, Emmett went to middle school from 8 am-2:30 pm. He was picked up by our carpool in the morning, so getting him off to school mainly consisted of making sure he did not walk out the front door with a milk mustache.
The girls went to elementary school from 9 am - 3:30 pm. So I had time to shower in the morning before I took them to school. Because I actually had to get out of my car and be seen, getting ready for the day usually needed to get done. Since I always have a bad case of bed head, it sort of made showering a priority. I wasn't anxious to share my bed head with the whole school.
But now the school district has mixed up the schedule. The girls need to be to school by 7:50 and Emmett needs to be to school by 9:00. So now, I have to be ready to get the girls out the door by 7:30 to get them to school and Eve to the Kindergarten yard. Then I feel the need to stay with Eve until the bell rings, because she just seems so young and little to just leave in the school yard (even though there are other kids there). Then I get home, and have a half hour before Emmett needs to go to school. I'm driving the morning part of the carpool instead of the afternoon, so when I get home from dropping kids off at 9:00, I have until 10:30 before I need to go pick Eve up from school.
This has completely screwed me up. So even though I am not a tighly-scheduled person, my loose interpretation of a schedule like the one I had last year has been completely messed up by the school schedules.
But enough whining and complaining. At least the kids are back in school and the long, hot summer is over, right?
Monday, August 1, 2011
Adjusting Reality
I have two friends with daughters getting married. Hearing about their preparations, the inevitable problems that arise and having just had my 15th wedding anniversary, it has caused me to think back to my wedding.
With weddings, and with life, I think there is a gap between expectations and reality. The gap is called experience. We all have certain expectations, say about our wedding, that we have accumulated over the years. From other weddings, movies, books, bridal magazines. We all want the Princess Diana fairytale wedding, but more than likely end up with a Meet The Parents experience. Because Meet The Parents, or Father of the Bride, even though a bit over the top, are the reality of weddings. Something is bound to go wrong, tensions are running high, plans don't work out, miscommunications happen, something gets lost, overlooked, ripped, stepped on, dirty, whatever. Reality is something will happen that will cause the bride to stress out.
Real life is the same way. What our perception of what life is supposed to be and what it really is are two different things.
Motherhood is a great example of that. The idea of having a baby and actually having that baby were two totally different things to me. It was not like babysitting, something that I loved to do when I was a teenager. I came home from the hospital and thought, "Now what do I do?" My expectations about what kind of parent I was going to be has been somewhat obliterated as more kids came along, each with their own personality. The disciplinarian I thought I would be has slowly eroded, being worn down by persistent kids.
Taking care of the house, another completely different reality. Most houses, with kids, do not look like a page out of House Beautiful, Better Homes & Gardens, or Martha Stewart Living. Even with kids in the photos of those glossy pages, I've decided that kids don't really live in those houses. My house is lived in. Very lived in. Reality is even if I clean and organize my house to look like a page out of one of those magazines, it doesn't stay that way. That is not a realistic expectation for me. I can't keep it up. I've had to adjust my reality that my house is more in a "lived-in" look than a model home look.
In life, at church, at work, wherever, I think it's easy to look around and see someone else that seems to have it better than me, or more together than me, or is more spiritual than me. But appearances and perceptions are not reality. There's always the trade off. Or the counter reality. Someone may be wealthy, but not healthy. Someone may be successful job-wise, but never has enough time to spend with the family. Or maybe someone is beautiful, but doesn't have any self esteem. I don't know of anyone who truly has it all.
But. By adjusting reality, realizing our expectations and perceptions may not be how things truly are, I think we can have peace. I can make peace with the fact that I will never be a Martha Stewart. I really don't want to be, anyway. My house is not going to look like a page out of a home magazine. Experience has taught me that is definitely not my reality.
I think if we adjust our reality to what is realistic for each of us individually, there is so much more happiness to be had than holding ourselves up to unrealistic, perceived expectations.
With weddings, and with life, I think there is a gap between expectations and reality. The gap is called experience. We all have certain expectations, say about our wedding, that we have accumulated over the years. From other weddings, movies, books, bridal magazines. We all want the Princess Diana fairytale wedding, but more than likely end up with a Meet The Parents experience. Because Meet The Parents, or Father of the Bride, even though a bit over the top, are the reality of weddings. Something is bound to go wrong, tensions are running high, plans don't work out, miscommunications happen, something gets lost, overlooked, ripped, stepped on, dirty, whatever. Reality is something will happen that will cause the bride to stress out.
Real life is the same way. What our perception of what life is supposed to be and what it really is are two different things.
Motherhood is a great example of that. The idea of having a baby and actually having that baby were two totally different things to me. It was not like babysitting, something that I loved to do when I was a teenager. I came home from the hospital and thought, "Now what do I do?" My expectations about what kind of parent I was going to be has been somewhat obliterated as more kids came along, each with their own personality. The disciplinarian I thought I would be has slowly eroded, being worn down by persistent kids.
Taking care of the house, another completely different reality. Most houses, with kids, do not look like a page out of House Beautiful, Better Homes & Gardens, or Martha Stewart Living. Even with kids in the photos of those glossy pages, I've decided that kids don't really live in those houses. My house is lived in. Very lived in. Reality is even if I clean and organize my house to look like a page out of one of those magazines, it doesn't stay that way. That is not a realistic expectation for me. I can't keep it up. I've had to adjust my reality that my house is more in a "lived-in" look than a model home look.
In life, at church, at work, wherever, I think it's easy to look around and see someone else that seems to have it better than me, or more together than me, or is more spiritual than me. But appearances and perceptions are not reality. There's always the trade off. Or the counter reality. Someone may be wealthy, but not healthy. Someone may be successful job-wise, but never has enough time to spend with the family. Or maybe someone is beautiful, but doesn't have any self esteem. I don't know of anyone who truly has it all.
But. By adjusting reality, realizing our expectations and perceptions may not be how things truly are, I think we can have peace. I can make peace with the fact that I will never be a Martha Stewart. I really don't want to be, anyway. My house is not going to look like a page out of a home magazine. Experience has taught me that is definitely not my reality.
I think if we adjust our reality to what is realistic for each of us individually, there is so much more happiness to be had than holding ourselves up to unrealistic, perceived expectations.
Timing is Everything
So we all know I wrote a book. So far, that's been the easy part. Now to get it published.
When I started out on this project (sorry, can't say process or journey. The Bachelorette has ruined those two words for me), I naively thought it'd take a couple of months. Publisher websites generally say you'll hear back from them in 8-12 weeks. The secret, though, is the longer it takes, the better your chances are. Who knew? But back to being naive, I hoped a publisher would receive my manuscript, happen to leaf through it upon it's arrival, get hooked and have to read the whole thing immediately. I know I'm not alone in the delusion. But that is not how it went.
First publisher: eight weeks and three days I got my manuscript back and my form rejection letter. Sad. :( I had written "no, no! Don't send me back!" on the back of the return envelope, hoping that might influence the decision. Obviously it did not.
Next I turned to Becca Wilhite, since she had two books published. I asked her how long it took to hear back on her books. She said seven months. I thought: Holy moly!
Then I went to the Utah Valley University Book Academy, got some great advice from Kirk Shaw of Covenant (my original first choice), did what he said (minor things, you know, like change the title and cut out 50 pages) and sent it to Covenant around Thanksgiving.
Patience is not my virtue. Especially since instant gratification is so easy to achieve.
I heard back after twelve weeks that they had received my manuscript and it was going to go through their evaluation process. Add on another 4-6 months. Okay, I won't complain because at least it wasn't an initial "no thank you."
Another 8 weeks later, I hear back (luckily this is all done by email, so it's more instant that snail mail), and my author questionnaire was coming up blank, so I needed to redo it and send it back to them. Yay! A small glimmer of hope, meaning it made it past the evaluations from outside readers.
Now I'm back to waiting again. I check my email an obnoxious number of times everyday looking for an email from "Submissions." I dare say I'm obsessed.
My whole point in this is if I step back and look at the situation, I know that timing is everything. Everything will fall into place when it's supposed to. When I started writing the book, I got the idea in August, Eve started preschool in September, and I actually had time to write. It all worked out perfectly. By the time I do hear, (hopefully a yes), school will be starting soon, or maybe already started, and I will have time to work on it while my kids are in school.
At least that's my plan anyway. But I do realize that it is not my timing, but the Lord's timing, and I just need to be patient.
Now if I could just stop checking my email 50 times a day . . .
When I started out on this project (sorry, can't say process or journey. The Bachelorette has ruined those two words for me), I naively thought it'd take a couple of months. Publisher websites generally say you'll hear back from them in 8-12 weeks. The secret, though, is the longer it takes, the better your chances are. Who knew? But back to being naive, I hoped a publisher would receive my manuscript, happen to leaf through it upon it's arrival, get hooked and have to read the whole thing immediately. I know I'm not alone in the delusion. But that is not how it went.
First publisher: eight weeks and three days I got my manuscript back and my form rejection letter. Sad. :( I had written "no, no! Don't send me back!" on the back of the return envelope, hoping that might influence the decision. Obviously it did not.
Next I turned to Becca Wilhite, since she had two books published. I asked her how long it took to hear back on her books. She said seven months. I thought: Holy moly!
Then I went to the Utah Valley University Book Academy, got some great advice from Kirk Shaw of Covenant (my original first choice), did what he said (minor things, you know, like change the title and cut out 50 pages) and sent it to Covenant around Thanksgiving.
Patience is not my virtue. Especially since instant gratification is so easy to achieve.
I heard back after twelve weeks that they had received my manuscript and it was going to go through their evaluation process. Add on another 4-6 months. Okay, I won't complain because at least it wasn't an initial "no thank you."
Another 8 weeks later, I hear back (luckily this is all done by email, so it's more instant that snail mail), and my author questionnaire was coming up blank, so I needed to redo it and send it back to them. Yay! A small glimmer of hope, meaning it made it past the evaluations from outside readers.
Now I'm back to waiting again. I check my email an obnoxious number of times everyday looking for an email from "Submissions." I dare say I'm obsessed.
My whole point in this is if I step back and look at the situation, I know that timing is everything. Everything will fall into place when it's supposed to. When I started writing the book, I got the idea in August, Eve started preschool in September, and I actually had time to write. It all worked out perfectly. By the time I do hear, (hopefully a yes), school will be starting soon, or maybe already started, and I will have time to work on it while my kids are in school.
At least that's my plan anyway. But I do realize that it is not my timing, but the Lord's timing, and I just need to be patient.
Now if I could just stop checking my email 50 times a day . . .
Saturday, July 2, 2011
It Just Keeps Getting Better
Two vomiting kids, possibly two to go. A broken dryer. Gross, pukey laundry. When it rains, it pours. Or when it pukes, it spews. So getting up this morning, I figured we'd go buy a dryer, a hit to the pocketbook, but we'd get over it and have dry clothes once again.
Then Steve called on his way home from work to say his car broke down. Like died. Like possibly it needs to be put to rest. It has 184,000 miles on it, so it's not like this comes as any big surprise. But really, today? Of all days!
The clutch went. Fun. and expensice to repair. Is it even worth repairing at this point?? But buying a dryer for a few hundred bucks is a lot easier to swallow than buying a car for many thousands of dollars! Ugh!
Last night I could laugh at the irony of having a broken dryer and puking kids. Today, after the car news, not so funny any more.
Luckily, Steve was able to fix the dryer by replacing the belt. One crisis averted. There might be a small chance he can also fix the car. Hopefully. But if anything else breaks this weekend, I might have a mini-breakdown! :)
Then Steve called on his way home from work to say his car broke down. Like died. Like possibly it needs to be put to rest. It has 184,000 miles on it, so it's not like this comes as any big surprise. But really, today? Of all days!
The clutch went. Fun. and expensice to repair. Is it even worth repairing at this point?? But buying a dryer for a few hundred bucks is a lot easier to swallow than buying a car for many thousands of dollars! Ugh!
Last night I could laugh at the irony of having a broken dryer and puking kids. Today, after the car news, not so funny any more.
Luckily, Steve was able to fix the dryer by replacing the belt. One crisis averted. There might be a small chance he can also fix the car. Hopefully. But if anything else breaks this weekend, I might have a mini-breakdown! :)
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