Ants

Since the end of last spring we have had ants in our kitchen and eating area. On and off throughout the summer, I warred with these little buggers. We had weeks where they were a distant memory and then, they would reappear. I even got the kids so fired up, that their "alarms" would go off and the sounds of children screaming, "ANTS!" would sound through the house. Even Owen gets into it. I'd come around the corner to find them, nose to the ground, squishing these invaders to oblivion. (And then we washed our hands *wink*)

Although this is not a family pastime that I would like to continue, it has been a good way for us to fight off a common foe and see how we handle frustrating situations. I cleaned like a mad woman, even putting off breakfast one morning to practically hose down the kitchen. I was diligent in my efforts, but they seemed to always find some other avenue for finding miscellaneous food. My kitchen has never been cleaner, and yet, they come.

But these ants. In the midst of calling them an assortment of colorful names (in my head, of course), I began to admire them. They're tenacious, single-minded in their purpose, and are not swayed by the occasional obstacle. Heaven knows that I could use some of their stamina, drive and even flexibility.

What I don't need is their presence in my kitchen.

Who knew that a small insect held such deep insight?


Ps. I've used a variety of products, which work for a while. Now, I'm glad to say that having the Orkin man for a neighbor is good thing.

Happy Birthday, Grandpa!

My Dad turned 60 recently. A few months before that my Mom did the same. They also celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary in June of this year. Which means that they got married when they were 20 years old. Just like me.

In preparation for making their anniversary video I looked through hundreds of photos of them throughout the years. It was amazing. I began to see my parents in a different way. I saw photos of them goofing with other young newly married couples, taking cute new-baby pictures, growing as a family, and posing in many wonderful vacation spots.

And it looked familiar.

Not just because I was in some of the photos (and certainly I had a whoosh of memories because of them), but because it looked like my life. Even though I sometimes believe that they have no idea what I'm talking about, I was quickly reminded that....They lived it and they survived. True, many things have changed over time in the way of child-raising and marriage roles, but in it's essence, they lived the life I live now.

In a way, it encouraged me to seek out opportunities for them to revel in this next stage of their lives...grandparenting. Even though they have been grandparents for over 7 years now, I want this to be one of the more enjoyable times of their lives. I love seeing them with their grandkids. My dad is right there on the floor with them, rolling around, laughing, teasing, and makin' noise. My mom is sweet and affectionate to them, always ready to sit and read them a book that she's read a hundred times before.

It's great to see them leap into this stage. To see them embrace the joys and sorrows of seeing their own kids raise kids. To see them envision a bright future for our family, one that includes a whole lot more birthdays, anniveraries and celebrations.

Happy Birthday, Mom and Dad. Here's to many more years together!


Ps. Here's a picture of the cake I made. Yes, I am loving my new cake pan and finding any excuse to use it!

Garden Goodness

I came around the corner of the house and saw this:

Then the first words I thought of were these:

God is great. God is good. Now we thank him for this food.

Amen.

Another birthday cake attempt...

Ellie turned five this week. Five. Years. Old. Kindergarten is on the horizon. School bus ride. Backpack filled with papers. Everyday. All day.

I have no real concerns for her as she starts this venture. Ellie is a spunky girl who knows her mind and what she likes. She has two brothers and she holds her own whenever the "love" they show her is beyond what a girl can handle. She makes friends easily and has an imagination that puts Dr. Suess to shame. I love so much about her, and I can't wait to see what this year brings. And although I've got mostly cliches to describe her at this moment, something tells me that she'll find some poetic words someday to tell stories about her mother made crazy cakes for birthdays every year.

I'm not sure what drives me to attempt these cakes. I'm not a very good baker, let alone a steady hand at anything remotely detail-oriented. I have little patience for most projects that don't have a definite result in a relatively short amount of time.

But maybe that's it.

It's a labor of love. It's a challenge for me. And I know they love it. I love the part where we snuggle up in a chair and discuss all the possibilities. How each idea represents a part of them, at this moment in time. When the idea is finally chosen, colors decided, frosting and cake mixes bought (oh yes, bought), I get to make something. Make something for them. Something that is all their own...before we cut it up and devour it's sugary goodness.

So here it is. The latest installment in the birthday cake making years. It's not perfect, but it's a cake made with love. And pink frosting. She'll love it.


Happy Birthday, Elle Belle.


Ps. Big thanks to Aub and Paul for finding this great cake pan at a garage sale and donating it to the cause.

Landmark Purchase

As a young lady, there were many landmark purchases that signaled momentous occasions, or the passing from one stage in life to another.  The first clothes purchase with money earned on your own.  The mortifying trip to your local department store to buy your first bra.  With your mother.  Who smiled the whole time, like she was thinking, "you have no idea what you're getting into."  Of course, there are similar necessity purchases that coincide with a certain time of the month.  Those get easier as time goes on.  Purchases like a wedding dress and clothes for the honeymoon  elicit a bit more excitement and fonder memories to be sure.

As a mom, I've had even more landmark purchases.  My first pack of onesies as I registered for all things baby while I was pregnant with Josh brought tears to my eyes ("will it really be that small?").  Diapers were a drudgery, but the purchase of special undies as that first one made the leap from diapers to boyhood was just as thrilling for me as it was for him.  Of course, the first few copays at the doctor when your little one gets sick, bumps his head or needs shots make their mark in your memory as well.  Soon your kiddos grow. They get into various extracurricular activities and you're quickly on your way to purchasing all manner of sports equipment.  Before you've pumped up the first soccer ball, you notice your garage is being engulfed by all kinds of balls, bikes, trikes and spikes (shoes, that is).  

But my latest purchase is one I did not expect.

I bought Josh's first sport's cup.

I'll assume you all know what I'm talking about. But maybe I shouldn't as my story will soon show.

He needs one for baseball this year.  "It's not required," the Coach said, "but my son will be wearing one."  (read: "If you care whether or not you have grandchildren someday, you better get yourself to the store, momma.")

So I went.  Checked the under.wear aisle with no luck. (I have to preface this to say that it had already been a frustrating morning and wandering around me.ijer looking for a boys' peep protector was not getting me through my list as fast I would like.)  So I got the guts to ask a nearby saleslady for help.  (I can only say that this moment is probably tantamount to a man asking someone where he could locate the tam.pon aisle.)  

She didn't know what I was talking about. 

I tried to describe what a cup was without sounding like a pervert or snickering.  Then she whips out her walkie-talkie.  I began to panic.  Is she calling for help?  Will there be that embarrassing announcement relaying the need for a young boys' althletic supporter?  Will a crowd gather as we all try to figure out where this mystery object is located...until I finally scream, "It's to protect his peep and my future grandchildren!"?

Deep breath.

I further explained that it was for sports.  AHH!  Then we should look in the sports section, she says.  Ok, thanks, I'll be on my way, then.  I walk away.  She follows.  I wasn't sure if she followed out of sheer curiosity, or out of some customer service obligation, but I could have done without the escort.

We found it.  The way it was packaged reminded me of the head of a Transformer.  Maybe Decepticon.  Odd.  But it's a boy's item.  What could I expect?  Anyway, after a brief pause to decided on the size (oh dear) and a gracious "thank you!"  to my fellow cup hunter, I tossed it into the cart and high-tailed it out of there for safer territory.

I headed for the baking aisle.  I needed chocolate.

The little Train that could...look any more less like a train

In an effort to document my follies as an over-eager cake maker...

Note the engine of the train. If you look closely you can see how it is starting to separate. Apparently gravity works and toothpicks were not doing their job.

Here the birthday boy is getting instructions from Dad about how to blow out the candles. His eager face is what I'll remember, not the slouch of the cake or the fact that jelly beans DO NOT taste good on cakes.

The first candle gave him some trouble, but....

He succeeded!!
(Here the slouchy engine can be seen actually
being supported by the train car behind it.)

My eagerness to make fun cakes for my kids matched with a slight competition between some more crafty sister-in-laws makes for good memories, eh?

Happy Birthday, Owen!!

Just don't get into Star.Wars or anything too complicated by next year, ok?? Not sure the Millennium Falcon is on my list of "can-do" cakes!!

Because they were just too white, I guess...

As I've noted in the past, my daughter's creativity knows no bounds. Especially when related to the medium with which she chooses to express said creativity.

Today's choice: New. White. Shoes.

To further explain why this a big deal (they were washable crayons, came off in a flash, bought at the cheapy shoe store, with a coupon, so really not a big deal), I must say a few things.

I am Dutch. I shop mostly at resale stores. This was only the second pair of real, live, brand-spanking, "I've still got the shoe box" shoes that I have ever bought. For any of my kids. Thanks to a very generous aunt who had boys and girls with a plethora of shoes and the resales, I have been able to avoid the shoe store.

Now I see a bit even more logic in skipping the store.

And just tying plastic bags to their feet.

Or maybe paper. She can color on paper.

He's Two!!

My youngest has turned two! Although it is extremely clique'...I can't believe he's two already. And this child is, as they say, All Boy. He's dirty, rowdy, loud, loves to land on his bottom for no reason except for the fact that it makes a fun sound, tackle, throw (every)things, and thinks colliding humans are hilarious.

And I love him.

He's very different from his big brother in how quickly he's joined ranks of the rowdy, but still has a sweet side to him as well. In fact, when he sees one of his sibs in tears or feeling sad, he'll head over and with a slightly tilted head and a gentle pet on the arm, he reassures the ones he loves that all will be ok. And then he runs. Full tilt in any direction. E.R., here we come. We haven't totally celebrated yet, but I'm looking forward to watching him open some presents and chow on some boy-design birthday cake very soon.

This little boy, he is my third, my last, my Owen.

Happy Birthday, buddy. Momma loves ya!

Wordless Wednesday

What???
Doesn't everyone eat their bagel this way??

Looking for the bright side

In a bit of writing therapy, I'm hoping to write out a bunch of things that are bringing this family down and hope that they will then magically disappear. Also that maybe I can also see a few positives in all this mess.

My knee is in serious need of attention. An MRI tomorrow will hopefully shed some light on how old my knee thinks I am and what to do next. For now, just call me "step-and-a-half." The most frustrating thing is that I'm having a hard time making plans because I just don't know how much the ol' bod will take here. Or how much it will take back!

We have all succumb to a couple of nasty springtime colds. Ellie has taken the brunt of it. Poor dear was up often last night just trying to ignore her ear pain long enough to drift off into some fitful sleep. My mommy's heart was hurting because it's been awhile since one of my little partygoers really needed some serious TLC. But we muddled through and went to our fourth (yes f-o-u-r-t-h) doc's appointment in a week to confirm the reality we already knew. Whopper ear infection.

Which brings me to our personal attempt to keep our docs in business. Ellie was there a week ago with a sudden fever and suspected strep. No strep, just the beginning of this doosy of a cold. Owen went on Thursday for his two-year well baby appointment and they generously agreed to look at my knee while I was there. I figured my part of the appointment to be the more hefty one until the doc came back and said that Owen was also needing a trip to the hospital radiology department for an echocardiogram on his heart. Apparently, he has a heart murmur which hasn't presented previously, so they like to check it out with further tests. NOT what I was expecting. I'm not terribly worried at this point, but it's the unexpected that's got me going and I'm glad they can get both of our tests done tomorrow. Sooner is definitely better than later for me when it comes to gettin' some answers.

My beloved Hubs has not been immune to the cold bugs and is also fighting a pretty decent cold with all he's got. So on top of doing all the legwork that is harder for me to do right now, he's battling to see the forest through the fog. Bless. His. Heart.

So....The Bright Side??

We have doctors who can take care of us.

At least it's not both of my knees. (then I'd be "no-step")

We're on Spring Break this week, which means, no missed school, sub plans or working around schools schedules.

Josh is fighting a small cold, but still has enough energy to power a small city. Man, how do they keep him busy at school? (thank goodness for baseball practice tonight!)

Owen is Owen. I thought it would be a good time to start taking away his pacifier, but hey, someone needs some comfort around here when times get tough, right?

I'm praying. A lot. And not always in petition for our needs, but recognizing with gratefulness the blessings He has given us. A home. Food. Medicine. Family. Sunshine.


Ps. I don't want to post this as a sympathy-getter, but just a bit of therapy and an honest record of our days. Let's hope for brighter ones soon!