Ugh, The Winter Weather

Let me just first say, I can't stand the winter. Nope, not at all. Can't find one redeeming quality. John says I'll like it when I learn to ski, but until then, I'll just have to take his word for it. The coldness, the dry skin and nasal passages (yes, I'm getting old, thank you), the coldness, the bundling up kids and jamming huge coats into car seats, the buckling of those car seats with brittle icicles for fingers, the dirty boot drippings all over the car, and did I mention the bitter coldness?

It doesn't help that we just moved either. I'd love a nice, warm play date/mom chit-chat time. Instead, I feel couped up and stir crazy!!! Yet somehow, I choose to stay inside, slowly going insane, rather than wrestle my big belly and two kids through the snow and ice.

Oh, do I need to mention that I've been cranky and a little pessimistic lately?

Whatever, here are some pics of our winter thus far:
The first slide show is of our house in the "big snow" and the one day it all melted. Don't worry though, the water went down and was completely replaced by a new coating of snow overnight. We still haven't seen grass yet.

This slideshow is just a few pics of us on a day the family went sledding, Nat and daddy walked out on the ice of Pymatuning and we found a swing-set to play on.
Upon seeing the swing set, Nat was uncharacteristically sedate
Daddy: "whadda ya think?"
Nat: "about what?"
Daddy: "the swing set. Do you see the swings."
Nat: sadly, "yeah, but they're somebody's"
Daddy: "No, it's a park."
Nat: "A park? They're not anybody's?"
Daddy: "No, you can swing on 'em"
She was elated and ran. Upon Julsie and I catching up, she said, "Mom, look at these swings! And they aren't anybody's, this is a park!"
I figure she is so used to Hershey, where she would see lots of swing sets on our walks that she would have to pass up because they were in people's yards. =)

My Baby Is 5 =(

I can't help it. This was a very hard birthday for me. I am excited to see her grow and learn new things, but the prospect of sending her away to school is just ... well..., just horrifying for me. I know it's probably somewhat selfish, but I love her! I know she'll enjoy making friends and showing me all the new things she has learned, but I will be lost without her. She is my little buddy. I don't think I want to spend my day Natty-less.

Ugh, and then there's the mean girls, and the inevitable misunderstandings with teachers, etc. that seem so unfair, and little boys who think she's cute and... ugh. Anyway, I'm sure there will be much more agonizing over kindergarten in posts to come.

Back to the birthday -

There were many other stressors for my already emotionally-fragile pregnant self:

-Family scheduling issues causing us to have the party well after her b-day

-Miscommunication between daddy and me so that we did NOTHING for her on her actual b-day (no cards, no presents, no cake). Just "Um, it's your birthday. You're 5 now."

-The entire weeks leading up to her party, she was talking about how she didn't have any friends here and she would have no friends at her party. She even told Nana, "I don't have any friends anymore, so I just invited all my family."

I was completely ready to have a melt-down. How could such a big birthday be celebrated so un-eventfully? My heart was broken.

Anyway, we did have a party, although everyone had to leave early. She got a lot of cute outfits and some fun Littlest Pet Shops. I made her a special cake too. In the end, the day turned out okay. The cake was very good and she was happy eating pizza. It was not the party I would have liked, but I'm sure I took it much harder than she did and in the grand scheme of things, she won't be too emotionally scarred. ;)

Technology Stinks

Well, when it's broken. Does this seem like a bad cycle to you?
October - our 3yr old flat screen completely pooped out. The repairman didn't even want it for parts.
November - after a long time nursing it, our computer power cord finally died. (3rd one in 3 yrs at $70 a pop)
December - All the cord troubles have caused our battery to be unable to hold a charge so our lap-top is essentially now a desktop. A new battery will cost $120.
December - Got a fancy new mixer for Christmas... but it didn't work. Luckily we just traded it in for a new one.
January - Our digital camera no longer downloads to our computer and our EasyShare software is now missing ALL of our 50+ albums
February - John's trail cam (This is the replacement for the original that didn't work properly) stopped working completely.
Really?

A Mouse in the House

Yes, there is a mouse in my house. Well, probably many, but there is this one -

We set some traps after noticing one mouse scurry across the kitchen floor and immediately caught two of the little buggers. (John, of course, was somewhat saddened by the loss of the first, eulogizing "he was a good lookin' mouse.")

Unfortunately, that's when the real trouble started. Apparently, mice too, follow the pattern that squirrels did at my Great Uncle's home - "I shoot one and 10 more show up for the funeral." After the initial fatalities, we had traps tripped a few times and even blood trails with tiny, perfect paw prints leading away from the scene. Yet each morning the traps were empty.

Perhaps by nearly escaping death they were emboldened. Because now, only after the traps arrived, I am waking up to mouse droppings on my counter tops instead of mouse carcasses! I have had to splurge on tupperware containers to seal everything in my pantry. They have gotten to my un-opened sugar, brown sugar, coconut, crackers and cookies in Ziploc bags!

Now, if you know me and how I react to vermin/pests/parasites (think ticks), you know I consider this attack as a personal affront. Not only have they wasted my time in cleaning and disinfecting, but they have wasted my money too (and we all know how much I hate that.) Therefore, I have upped my game. In addition to the sealed pantry, I have placed additional and novel traps. I have sanitized my counters and vacuumed my kitchen each night before bed. I have even tailored the bait to their apparent penchant for sweets. Last night, I even left a trail of brown sugar leading right to the trap. (Upon seeing this, my husband laughed aloud. Notably, record of HIS effort in this mission of eradication has been absent.)

Anyway, what do I get for all of these additional measures of prevention? I'll tell you, the most fat and happy mouse you've ever seen scurrying across my counter tops at prime time! Yes, I've seen him the last two nights at progressively earlier times (8:15, then 7:45) while the whole family was still up and moving about.

I've had it. I have been in bed thinking about putting up John's infrared trail camera to scout the culprit's movements, about practicing my marksmanship with the bb gun. But wait, perhaps that's his strategy - push the envelope until I finally I drive myself into the looney bin and then he'll have free reign! Oh, the "Rats of NIMH" have nothing on this fella.

My Stinky Night

The girls and I hit the $2 movies on Saturday night. Beforehand, we ran a few errands ... and ran into a few snags.

Snag 1 - Jules poops in her diap as we walk into Michael's.
Snag 2 - I go to change her and realize my diaper cache is empty, but I know there are some in the car. Unadvisedly, instead of wrestling the kids to the car and back, I decide to risk it. I de-diaper her and let her go "commando."
Snag 3 - No SOAP! Although I rinse with water and use a baby wipe, I can't get the poo smell off of my hands - Yuck! I'm not even exaggerating.
Snag 4 - (a direct ramification of Snag 2) Jules pees all over the floor near the check out while Nat and I are contemplating the snack we should smuggle into the movies. I don't mention the "accident" to anyone and simply clean it up with my stash of diaper wipes which were, unlike my diapers, actually in my purse.
Un-snag 1!! Yay! : I get Jules to the car and my spare diapers and clothes are exactly where they should be.
Un-snag 2: We hit the bathroom at the movie theatre immediately and there is soap! We finally get the poo smell off of our hands.
Un-snag 3: We enjoy the movie and eat TWO (2) Jumbo popcorns!!
Snag 5: Nat forgets her bear at the theatre and we have to go back to get it.
Un-snag 4: It's there!
Snag 6: We come home and are immediately confronted with a terrible stench. I am afraid, and I run to take out the garbage, hoping that's what it is. No such luck. To my dismay, I see that Jazzy has gone diarrhea in her kennel. (Luckily it's only in her cage and not the carpet or walls). I give her a bath outside and bleach the kennel floor as it begins to rain and lightning is seen in the near skies. I do get inside just before it pours.
Snag 7: Nat decides to go potty in the training toilet seat instead of the regular toilet. You guessed it, #2. And I had to empty it, wipe the #2 from the bowl and sanitize. Ugh.
Snag 8: One more poopy diaper for Jules.
Snag 9: Nat spills an entire bowl of oatmeal on the floor. Between the Sham-wow and Jazzy, we cleaned it up pretty easily --- and at least that didn't stink.

Which is More Ridiculous?

-That it is now 13 days past the state budget deadline
OR
-That in his 7 year tenure as Governor, Rendell has NEVER passed a complete budget on time

I'm sorry, apparently the state education system is in the gutter because even our highest elected officials can't remember that July is the month immediately following June. Otherwise, they could have seen this coming, right?

-That while prospects for resolution are still dismal, the legislature has taken off the last 2 weekends
OR
- That a House of Reps member said in reference to his state car "my girlfriend usually drives this car."

I think I know where we could trim a few dollars off the budget.

- That PA state employees including State Troopers, corrections officers, etc. have been working for "free" since July 1, and will receive no paychecks beginnning on July 17th
OR
- That inmates in State prison will continue to be paid for their "important work," while the guards watching them will not.

Isn't there just something philosophically wrong with that? Check out this article to read some of the statements made by the Gov's office and DOC about this situation. Ask yourself what their statements say about the non-incarcerated prison staff. Oh, and do you believe their paychecks are their only source of cash? Kind of blows holes in their theories.

One last fact for you to chew on: The state deficit is $3.2 Billion dollars. That's $3,200,000,000.00, or $8,760,000.00 per day, or $365,300.00 per hour.

Finally, check out this article about the budget and how state employees are "held hostage" in order to get pet projects funded.

Accountability at the Gym - A Real Look in the Mirror

I went to the gym 3 times last week. I didn't eat the greatest though. We went to a friend's house on Wednesday and I was tempted with some vegetable pizza. When it comes down to it, I need to plan better. I can see the words on the shirt participants in John's "Transformation Challenge" class received: "Failure to Plan is Planning to Fail." I need to make sure I have good food ready and available. Oh well I'll try better this week.

While there, I happened to pick up a magazine (which I never do.) I started flipping through some of the pics, I read a few lines from an article and kept reading. A woman wrote about seeing a picture of herself that was hanging on a friend's bulletin board. "Oooh! I hate that picture of myself. Why would you hang that up?!" It was a picture of her laughing whole heartedly with her mouth wide open and eyes squinting and wrinkly. Looking at her friend, she knew she had offended her. Her friend said, "I love that picture of you. When you laugh you completely let go and there is just this pure whimsy about you." Over the next few weeks, she started to notice that if a friend had a picture of her displayed, it was of her laughing. Somehow, her friends saw something in her that she couldn't see.

The author went to another friend's house and saw a picture of the friend on the refrigerator. She was rail thin. "Why do you have that picture up?" "It's my favorite picture of myself." It was a picture taken right after the woman had come home from India, where she caught dysentery!!!!! The author remembered all of their friends helping to nurse the woman back to health. She could eat nothing but broth for weeks, had no strength, and was practically bed-ridden. Why on earth would that be her favorite picture? It only reminded the author of terrible times.

Isn't it funny how we see ourselves? I typically hate pictures where I'm really smiling. The sides of my nose pull up while the tip pulls down, making it look gi-nourmas. You can see my one funky tooth that always reminds me I should have kept better track of my retainers (lost one, broke the other). Oh, and I hate it if my eyes are squinty. That's my favorite feature and if you can't see them, I figure there is no other redeeming quality.

Then, I think about it. While it may horrify me, no one has ever run when I laughed because of my "monstrous" appearance. I KNOW that I can be super critical of myself in all areas of life, not just appearance. (Try NOT being critical with a double shower door made of glass in front of a 3ft by 5ft mirror) ...... And so, sometimes I will close my eyes and say "Let me see myself as other people see me" and then open my eyes. I find I'm more forgiving =)

Don't get me wrong, I am all for getting healthy and being the best YOU you can be. But sometimes, our distorted view of ourselves can depress us and almost paralyze us into inaction. If you are like me (and I think a lot of women are... and worse) give yourself a break. Try to see yourself as other people see you - without the harsh lenses of self-criticism. Remember, God made you who you are. You are just as you are supposed to be (funny nose and all).

Just Wondering ....

Does it take anyone else three (3) hours to get their kids in bed? I mean, tonight was a short night because Nat was so tired she fell asleep while I was telling the Christmas Story. But even today, I started around 5:30 and left their room at 8:00. Some how I really don't think that is normal, but by the time we:

-take a bath (read in the bath, play in the bath, lolly-gag in the bath),

-chase naked babies around the house to get lotioned and dressed,

-get a bed-night snack,

-brush their teeth (they brush their teeth, we brush their teeth, nat hides her toothbrush, we have to find it),

and then any combination of the following:

-tell Nat a story "from my mind" while I rock Jules,

-put Jules down and "cozy-up" Nat,

-sing a lullaby to Nat, and one to Jules if Nat requests,

-prayers,

-"Jack and Bill" nursery rhyme,

- oops! Nat needs to go potty,

-"where's my drink?" "I'll be right back."

- "leave my door open"

-"but I'm a little bit scared" and subsequent reassurance of safety

-"but I'm a little bit sad when I don't sleep with you."

-"but my bed is not comfortable"

aaahh!

And then, if I'm not lucky, Nat will be back out in the living room in 5 minutes "I have to tell you something." "What." Insert the line-of-the-day "I'm a little bit..."

She also has been sneakily climbing into our bed in the middle of the night. John caught her one night, moving like an elite operative - cracking our door, checking for signs of consciousness, tip-toeing to the side of our bed, peering over the top to make sure we're still asleep... like stinkin' 007! She even tells us now "I'll just sneak in." Daddy said, "well, I'll just start locking our door, then what will you do? You'll have to go back to your bed ...or sleep there on the floor." "Well I like floors!" Another time she said, "I'll just try and scream."

Here's the new one she came up with tonight. You see, last night both daddy and I were home when I put her to bed. So, in the tub tonight she said, "When you put me to bed last night, I sang a song to myself." "You did?" I said happily, thinking it's a song to help her go to sleep. She began to sing, "Mo--mmy and Da--ddy are having FUN witho--ut me." oooooooh that little stinker!

I wish they were both 4 months old. I got better sleep then!

My Gram

I tried to write this post on 9/3, just before we left for Montana. I just couldn't finish it and it was getting so long, I just had to stop and put it away for a while. I hadn't been sure whether to write about this subject or not, but decided I NEEDED to write it out - even if after I was through, I erased it all.

(Sigh) I lost my Gramma Sanner on August 22. (I pause and read it again then watch the cursor flash... sigh). Sometimes I feel just devastated and my heart broken. It may sound naive or ridiculous, especially because she was 90 and in light of her long battle with Alzheimer's, but in my heart of hearts, I did not think that day would ever come.

I mean, I have thought about that day and worried about that day ever since I was 3 years old. Yes, literally, three, but when push came to shove, in my heart I believed what I'd told her once as a small child. She was standing at the kitchen sink, I walked directly to her from the living room and frankly announced, "Gram, you'll never live without me and I'll never live without you. Either the the Rapture will come or we'll just die in a car accident together." I know, a little morbid, especially for someone not big enough to see over the kitchen counter, but that is what I said. And ever since, something in me really believed it. Even as we prepared to drive up home on Wednesday night as we knew she was failing, I was paranoid that I would be in a car accident. The other half of me was waiting for "the trumpet" to sound. I guess I stopped thinking like that once I got to the Home. It was less about me having to live without her and more about her being okay... I mean, not in pain or distress.

At least she was not alone throughout the last days. My aunt took the day shifts and we (mom, Jess, and I) took the evening/overnight shifts. Luckily for us, Jess and I were there at the moment she took her last breath. We figured she knew that was as peaceful and alone as she was going to get. She could never get rid of us in her lifetime - two little stinkers following her around, hanging on her - why would it be different now? Maybe she waited for my kids. I don't know. She had seen everyone else and she passed about an hour and a half after my kids and husband left. Or maybe she didn't want Nance or mom to have to be there...... Or maybe she just wore out.

Either way, she was a fighter. She was a fighter by nature. From the moment she was born at around 2 pounds, she fought. She survived while her bigger, seemingly healthier, twin brother died in infancy. She dealt with a sick child and when he was diagnosed with cerebral palsy, she and grandpa worked for a dollar a day on a neighbor's farm to be able to get a ride up to Shriner's Hospital to see him every Sunday. That went on for about 3 years. She buried her husband when she was 54, all 4 of her brothers and her sister, all three of her step-children and all of her brothers and sisters-in-law except one.

I know many other facts and figures to describe her. I know lots of stories about her life like they were my own. I often asked her to tell me stories, even the same ones, over and over again. We were together a lot. I spent my entire childhood right next door to her and spent every non-school night sleeping in her bed until about the 8th grade. (The only exception was Christmas Eve, when she would sleep in my bed. ) Her house was my favorite place to be and she was my favorite person to be with. I still clearly remember saying good-bye to her as I left for college. We were both crying our eyes out. (My sister was beaming, because she finally got my room and gramma all to herself =)

Instead of more facts and figures, here are some adjectives: honest, hardworking, virtuous, loving.

She was insanely honest. I remember playing hide-and-seek at her house and having to make up a rule that you couldn't ask Gram where the hider was. You'd ask "Did they go upstairs?" and you'd know by the look on her face. She didn't WANT to tell you, but had to. (I only know of one time in my life-time where she held something in, not lied, but didn't tell. It caused her actual physical illness.)

She was a hard worker. Another farmer's wife described my gram as the hardest working woman she knew. I only saw her in her sixties and beyond but even then she was still a wonderful example of (... I looked it up in the thesaurus, there are no good synonyms for hard working.... industrious, no... diligent, eh... I propose a new adj: Weaziness ... (from Louise)...) I remember her throwing hay bales from the wagon onto the escalator in her seventies, hauling water 100 yards to her parched garden, and beating back huge cows from a watering hole with a big stick. (I also remember her being kicked against the barn doors by one of those same cows, breaking her ribs. Did she go to the hospital? You can probably guess, she didn't.)

She was caring. When my grandpa was alive, their house was like a half-way house; supplying a home to most anyone, from a wayward teen, to a distant relative, to a swarthy North Carolina chicken fighter. Her brother's mother-in-law and an old ailing farmer each asked to come live with Weazy and Mose in their final days, just knowing she would take good care of them and be of a good attitude in doing it.

She was loving. She loved her grandchildren. We knew it from her hugs, her kisses, her kindness, her generosity, her delight in taking care of us, and because she told us (and you just knew it was true.) Jess and I clearly spent a lot of time with her and if there is one thing I know, it's that she loved each and every one of us the same. Even if she didn't see them much, she had a story about each one and would beam from ear-to-ear while telling me of this cherished memory. I have to be honest... sometimes her fairness in love with us irritated me. I felt like, "she loves them just as much as she loves me!..... but I love HER more!" The "I love you more" game was a favorite of Jess and mine... each telling her we loved her more than the other. =) ... then mom would always trump us with "I loved you first."

Finally, she was a faithful Christian. If you'd come to the house and didn't find her doing chores, you'd find her reading her bible. She took me to church, taught me to pray, and had a huge impact on me being saved. Accordingly, I felt a very special and unique bond with her. We were even baptized together. She is what I aspire to be, as a woman, as a worker, as a Christian, as a grandmother.

Bye-Bye BUD-ie

Budweiser, Anheuser Busch, being owned by some company in Belgium? Are you kidding me?Does it make anyone else sick? I mean, I'm not a big Bud drinker myself, but I'm fed-up with American icons being bought by foreign companies ... and being sold in the first place for that matter. Is it all about the buck? Ugh.

Does anyone remember in Pretty Woman, when Edward (Richard Gere) is explaining his business to Vivian (Julia Roberts)? He is a corporate raider who takes buys a company's stock then breaks it up and sells it off piece by piece. Viv says, "...so you don't build anything and you don't make anything?" She was kind-of confused and disheartened by that.

This Bud thing just reminded me of that. I know that Bud will still be made here, but I can't help but feel a little disheartened and confused either. Maybe its because I live in Hershey and have heard reliable rumors that all their chocolate making jobs are moving to Mexico. Maybe its because I lived in Pittsburgh, PA - the one time heart of the steel world (and steel was the heart of the building of this country), with mills running up and down each barge-filled river for literally miles and miles. Today, there is not one functioning steel mill in Pittsburgh ... but they have turned some of the cites into nice shopping centers! What are Pittsburghers now? Doctors, Lawyers and the people who serve them. Maybe its because my home town is now a ghost town and I hear of the good-ole days of the Viscose and Talon and the more recent good-ole days of the tool and die era - when a regular guy could get a good paying job and really have the American dream.

Sorry for the rant.

Be Careful Batman! Robin is Really a Joker

Where I work (John says "worked") is a total joke. I like getting cash and feeling like I am financially contributing to this family, easing financial burdens, but this is ridiculous. For example, despite being shift leader, being HUGGED by one customer and being told I was the best waitress ever, I was tipped an avg of 10% that night. Note to restaurant goers: If you have the "best waitress ever" or want to hug her, it is not appropriate to tip her 10%.... ever. Adding insult to injury, I had to pay the bartender and buser $15.00 of my tips (almost 1/3 of what I made that night). Worse yet, I was forced to claim that I made $52.00 for tax purposes when I really only made $37.00. Talk about utter disappointment. I was almost sick.

About 10 days later, its a Saturday night and I'm shift leader again. Again I think I should be able to make some decent money but realize I only have 2 really usable tables (the other 2 have bar stool chairs which never get sat.) Not only that, but this night (and the prior 3 I worked) I had to almost beg for tables even with a line out the door. I to tell them I had clean a table (one that I had cleaned myself despite knowing I would have to pay the bussers for doing it anyway.) I was frustrated and bored and pretty much just ran other people's food all night. Finally, it's nearing close and I should be getting sat more tables because everyone else is getting sent home but I'm not. Oh well, right? Then, I am bussing my tables and get caught up with a big party I had. I just left some glasses and a couple baskets on an unused table. I ask the busser to come up and help me clear them... but he never did. Five minutes later, the boisterous, rude and short (can we say "Napoleon Complex") manager comes up and gives me a hard time about the glasses (not really talking TO me, just talking to the crowd of staff hanging around). I assure him I'll take care of them, but another waiter just picks them up and takes them to the dish room. I go to the computer and the manager comes out of nowhere, and says, "did you hear that clanging back there?" I stutter, "huh? what? No?" "That was your **** and now they're all broken." ya-da ya-da (Apparently the kid who took them back dropped them.) He continues to loudly rant and rave as he walks away from me and I hear him yelling something about "if it says Made in China on your check." By now, he's yelling in a completely different room.

You've got to be kidding me, right? He's a manager? It seriously took all that was in me not to just walk out the door. In the following week, I have run my options through my head a million times and have had at least 3 nightmares about the whole thing. I know what I would do if this was a "real" job... but if this was a "real" job would someone so completely inept at dealing with people be in such a position?

Seriously. I know I'm a great waitress and a hard worker. I'm not a teeny bopper who needs to be scared into working, ... or who doesn't know any better. Maybe they like the teeny-boppers who practically make out in the bus stand, text message the entire time they are "working," peel wheel and shout profanities in the parking lot ... but I digress.