Moi?

Oh, what? You think I'm supposed to be blogging?
I was under the impression I was supposed to be outside.

That's where I've been.
Outside.

All of the time.

So, if you need me... that's where I'll be... out.

My cell phone will be inside - let's face it, probably on silent, God only knows where. I'll be sweaty (hello humidity!) and happy and having fun with my munchkins or completely ignoring them while I search for fossilized sharks' teeth on the beach. I found 47 on our last trip. Yes, 47.

Pardon me, I have to go. The beach beckons.

Fun Things

One of the fun things about seldom checking my email means when I do in fact check it I find interesting things like urgent reminders to renew my cars inspection tag (or whatever it is) right now!!! and to get my (unfortunately still over goal) rear end back into Weight Watchers before my online access expires and they start charging me again! Oh the horror! Why aren't the urgent emails waiting in my inbox things like Free latte right now!!? If THAT were the case I'd probably be better about paying attention to my email.

Chris rolls his eyes at me in open annoyance that I never know what's going on at church. "It was IN the EMAIL!" he says in exasperation. Yep. I'm sure that it was. But, as I like to remind him, I am taking the clergy family perks where they come. If I have to put up with him working smack dab in the middle of long weekends then I think it is my prerogative to ignore the email and instead roll over in bed and say, "hey, is there Sunday school tomorrow?" unless of course I'm teaching it...

We went to the beach again this weekend. It's the start to a great summer when we spend the first three days of it at the beach. I found three shark teeth, we saw a bazillion dolphin jumping out of the water, and we fed the seagulls from the ferry. We went to the strand and had lunch at Fisherman's Wharf aka the restaurant where Chris and I went on our first date. We had ice cream at La King's. I told the kids they could each have five dollars to pick out something on the Strand. C looked at necklaces and mermaids and all kinds of things and then settled on a squeaking rubber shark toy. Nils followed suit. Other highlights of the trip include (but are not limited to): Nils' constant quoting of the Country Bears "As soon as I find a ladder I'll be riiight up! mmm hmmm!," ukulele playing, C staying up late to play Ticket to Ride, and this gem...
As C and I went into separate stalls in a somewhat crowded bathroom at the Fisherman's Wharf she called out to me in a loud voice, "wow! I am SO going to clog this toilet!" What?! Of course the entire bathroom starting cracking up. I replied "TMI!" which got more laughter. Geeze.

Cabin Fever

Given the number of days I've spent at home the last few weeks I have nothing of interest to blog about... as you already know.

C has had a fever that's been coming and going and then coming and then going so we've stayed home a ridiculous number of days since spring break. After a long morning of running tests yesterday the doctor's best guess is an otherwise asymptomatic sinus infection. So, here's hoping the new meds do the trick!

But that means were home today. Again.

The kids are watching Brave. I'm doing laundry and washing dishes and contemplating the fact that I should really clean our master bedroom.

It's a beautiful day outside. Maybe we'll head out to the backyard.

In a few months I will feel bad for Chris when the kids and I are at the splash pad with Sonic drinks and he is at work. When that time comes I hope he remembers this spring when I was stuck indoors for days on end with cabin fever and he was the one feeling bad for me. When that time comes, Chris, I'll bring you a Sonic drink and a free smile.

Oh Swell

Every once in a while I look around and see that I am the source of the problem. Everyone's new cubbies look like a mess?! Oh wait... it's just that mine has exploded with stuff. Our dresser is constantly covered in crap?! Oh... my bad. Tripping over shoes in the living room? Hmm... anyone else around here wear size 9 blue suede loafers? Rats. Me again.

Last night Chris came home to chaos. Total chaos. And this time it definitely wasn't me.

Had Chris come home to bathed and pajamed little angels it would have been because I'd lost my shit and forced the kids to take a bath while I drank a mint julep and read my book. Had Chris come home to a fresh mint julep it would have been because I was drinking one and pretended like I made it for him when he opened the door. Had Chris come home to a calm quiet dinner for two it would have been because the aforementioned children had peanut butter sandwiches while contained in the bathtub.

But he didn't.

He came home to people who were hungry and tired and melting down. He came home to a wife who was drinking water and trying to finish dinner so that we could enjoy a nice peaceful meal. He came home to kids who threw tantrums at the table (one of whom literally threw his veggies in protest).

I would have made a great 1950s housewife.

Monday Monday

Yesterday Chris had the day off of work (Monday after holy week the office is closed) and as the kids were at school we had a date day. It was the best day ever. The weather was perfect and we had lunch on the patio at Dish Society, a local farm to table restaurant. It's a very hipster restaurant in La Centerra (I love La Centerra. It makes me feel like I live in Aspen) and thus, much to my dismay, didn't have Diet Coke. I am one of those people who falls in between Gen X and the Millennials. I am much more like Ms than the Xers (almost M to a T) but have some definite X traits like being annoyed that a hipster restaurant didn't carry my poison drink of choice. Stupid hipsters carrying Maine Root drinks instead of Coca Cola.

I actually love that restaurant. Farm to table? Awesome. Outdoor seating? Yes please. Normal sized salads instead of entire bag of lettuce in a bowl? Yes. I might leave and come home and eat a bag of chips (oops) but I love restaurants that don't overdo portions (unless its Mexican food and then bring on the chip baskets!).

We also volunteered at school for C's class' library time. It was so fast with two people and way more fun with Chris (as most things are). And we managed to get our announcement together for telling the kids where we are going on vacation this year and had time to veg on the couch. It was pretty much heaven. If we'd gone to Goodwill and bought a ton of books I would have exploded with happiness.

When the kids came home from school we had a big chest in the doorway with a note on it about how we'll be going on vacation soon. When they opened the trunk Mickey and Minnie balloons floated out and I dumped a bunch of small Disney balloons over their heads while we yelled, "We're going to Disney World!"

They were mostly excited about the balloons.

Yeah.

Now we can finally start obsessing about our upcoming trip and make a big countdown chart for the kids. I'd tell you when we're going but I don't want you to come rob my house, Kelly. Perhaps I should count the pineapple iced tea spoons before we leave.

The day ended with homemade pizza and mint juleps and dinner on our deck. Kids went to bed easily and we watched more It's Always Sunny. So, hmm, yesterday was pretty much an ideal day. What now Tuesday?!

In other news: I'm off the wagon on pretty much everything. I'm out of control on caffeine. I'm eating whatever the hell I want and thus over my ww goal (oh crap). I'm drinking mint juleps (duh, it's spring and we have a deck. Plus I'm rereading GWTW and that doesn't help). The only thing that I haven't gone off the rails on is working out. I've even been sleeping in til 6am. *SIGH* I wish I could get motivated to get a grip but I can't seem to find a "why" for any of those things. I know my neurologist would have something to say about my caffeine but I'm doing well with migraines soooo... bring on the coffee...? I know the mint juleps are adding to the ww weight problem but... it's spring. And they're good. I know I'm going to have to weigh in for April and I'll have to pay (I've been at goal for like 18 months. I really don't want to pay) but I just can't seem to get a grip. The problem is this: I've gained five pounds and I don't see why it matters. I don't want five to turn into ten and that's why I need to get a grip... but the five didn't really make a difference in my life other than having more fun. I know that five pounds less is about as small as I get. Five pounds heavier and my clothes still fit (not as well). Chris thinks I'm beautiful no matter what (God bless him). I'm still exercising. Losing the five gained will require the loss of my mint juleps and not eating enormous amounts of pizza. I need to find my motivation. Perhaps for now I will concentrate on losing weight so I don't have to pay for April. I'll let Future Casey deal with the caffeine. For now, another cup of coffee.

The Snake Came Back the Very Next Day... He Just Wouldn't Stay Away...

A friend sent me this (hilarity credit to Joann Doyle) and it just about sums up yesterday:

Yep. Pretty much.

I creeped out of my bed and watched the floor carefully as I got ready for bootcamp. Thankful to have not encountered Monsieur Snakey, I came home with two huge frappuccinos (one for me, one as a surprise for Chris). Thanks, DOK for the giftcard! As Nils says, "Party! Party!"

After caffinating up we got busy around here. Chris ran errands and worked on our sprinklers while Carolena, Nils, and I set to work cleaning and reorganizing Carolena's room. C sat down for the task of collecting all of the shoes from the floor of her closet and putting them in a basket. You know... her closet... the space that backs up to the wall that the snake crawled into.

I should have seen it coming.

Suddenly she was screaming and crying and flew out of her closet. "SNAAKKKKEE!!!"
I started yelling, "Go get Daddy! Go get Daddy!" over and over and C ran out of the room to get Chris.

Nils sat beside me looking at me quizzically. I kept my eyes on that snake.

Chris came back with a bucket and captured el snakeytan. Then the real crying began when he showed the kids.

I spent the next portion of the day scraping children off of my legs as they clung to me crying and pleading to keep the snake. Really?!

C and N followed me around crying, sobbing, begging, pleading. N kept saying, "Snaakkee!! Love him! Cute!" 

Seriously? 

Two kids who love snakes. This is what I get for being a Slytherin. 

I'm okay with snakes in the zoo. Fascinated by them in fact. I'm okay with petting a snake. I was once okay with holding them. I like the idea of them "out there" in the world doing their thing. I don't want to come across one in my house. Ever. Ever ever. Ever. 

{Shuddddder}

No, of course we didn't kill him.

Chris was instructed to get in the car and drive that little critter away from our house. He wanted to put him in the backyard but it knows the entry route to our house and thus had to be relocated.

The kids and I went back to working in Carolena's room where she told the story of finding the snake. She said she was picking up shoes and touched the snake and it shocked her to find it in her closet. Uhhh. Yeah. That could come out in therapy as an adult. For sure. Except she loves snakes (always has) so it will probably be a story about how awesome it was and how her mother wouldn't let her keep it.

Carolena's 2nd birthday looking at snakes at the pet store.

After cleaning her room... wait for it... we took out one of her beds! What?!
C has had two twin beds in her room because we have a three bedroom house and wanted room for people to spend the night. We decided though that day to day life trumps that and took out the extra bed (wish we would have thought about that a few months ago when we bought a mattress and boxspring for Nils. Argh).

She now has a better space all to herself. We moved in my childhood desk and her doll house. It is fabulous. She is insanely excited and got her desk adorably organized with arts and crafts and spent the rest of the day in there working.

At some point in the afternoon both kids packed their bags for the beach and put them by the front door. Nils was devastated to learn that we weren't leaving at that very second and spent time angry about that. He spent a sad amount of time holding his suitcase and trying to open the front door, all the while crying and whimpering "Moom's house." You're welcome for that mental image, Mom.

After all of the snake brew ha ha and bedroom transforming and kids crying I was in party mode last night. It was cool enough outside to don my Mexican poncho hoodie. Chris tells me I look like a 90s stoner in it which I take as a compliment so I spent the rest of the night with Pearl Jam songs in my head. My waistline was thankful to receive the calories of three beers and fifty million toasted marshmallows. It's only March 12... what's happening to my resolve?! Chris cooked burgers while Nils and I snuggled on the deck and listened to Jimmy Buffet and enjoyed the perfect springtime weather.

My children cried because we didn't keep the snake we found in our house. This is why I drink so much damn coffee people. I'm not sure exactly what the correlation there is. But, there it is.

Rain, Rain, Go Away So the Snakes Won't Come to Play

Dear Snakes of Fort Bend County,
I know it has been raining a hell of a lot. I know that construction all around our neighborhood with a new boardwalk, a new park, a new water park... all that jazz... has really put you out. I know you have few places left to go and, recently, little to no places that are dry. However, our house is not an option. Do not come into it again. Ever.
Sincerely, Casey


Last night I lived into an insane female stereotype. I went into the kids' bathroom and when I went to open the door and walk out THERE WAS A SNAKE IN OUR HOUSE!!!!!

I literally jumped onto the stool that the kids keep at the sink and started shrieking, "CHRIS!! Snake in the house!!" over and over. I don't know how the kids slept through my freaking out.

Let it now be known that the snake was approximately the size of a pencil. Maybe smaller. Yeah, smaller I think.

Chris came to rescue me by first seeing the size of the snake and then (probably inwardly rolling his eyes at the proportionality of my huge freak out to the small snake) grabbed an empty toy bin to catch it in... and that's when... it slithered into the smallest crack ever IN OUR WALL!!!!!

Ahhhhhh!!! Why God, why?!?!?!

Needless to say I was hyperventilating. Olive (who will henceforth be known as "the best cat ever") came prowling around with obvious hopes of catching the snake. Thanks, Olive.

Then... I saw another snake! Which turned out to be a rubberband.
And then another! Which was my cell phone cord sitting where it always sits.
The third snake turned out to be a pair of sunglasses. Then a pair of shoes. My toothbrush. My own feet. Everything looked serpentine.

After texting my sister for moral support, checking my sheets nine hundred times, and trying to think about anything else in the entire world, I finally fell asleep.

How's that for a Slytherin gal?

Let's Go to the Movies. Let's Go See the Show

For the last month or two we've thought that Nils was ready to tackle sitting still for a movie in the theater. He watches entire movies at home. Why wouldn't he sit still in the theater happily munching popcorn, sipping lemonade, and enjoying Zootopia big screen?

Yeah. Right.

I'm pretty sure it was only two minutes into the movie that he stood up and declared, "No more tv" and attempted to walk away. He ate about two kernals of popcorn (which was to be both dinner and a bribe to stay seated). Luckily the theater was empty with the exception of some other small-child-type families. Nils and Daddy spent the middle portion of the movie wandering AMC.

I felt a smidgen of guilt that I was the one to stay with C, who is a born-movie goer, but then I remembered that I had just taken both children to the bathroom in the middle of the movie and the last movie I saw was Rio 2. We saw Rio 2 on the summer dollar day TWO years ago. C sat happily snacking and watching the movie. Nils slept in his carseat as he was months old. I kept waking up with a start to find I had once again dozed off during the worst movie ever. So yeah, I didn't feel that guilty about Chris being the one to chase the monkey Monsieur Nils around the theater.

Things we learned at the movie theater last night:
Nils is in fact not ready for the movies.
Casey does not get out enough if a "put your cell phone away" pre-movie commercial makes her laugh out loud for several minutes. 

Back!

On Monday I really needed to go grocery shopping and decided to put it off until Tuesday.

On Tuesday I really really needed to go to the grocery store and thought, "Nah. Let's just take it easy today." The kids and I stayed home and played and cleaned up the house and read. I made a big batch of black beans and rice. We had plans to go to the rodeo on Wednesday night so there was really no point in going to the grocery store until Wednesday or Thursday... right?

On Wednesday the stomach flu came to visit our home.

On Thursday we were still homebound. On Thursday night the stomach bug took up residence in my digestive system. Carolena threw up once and was over it. That kid must have an immune system of steel. Everyone else will be puking their brains out and she's like, "I think I'll take a nap."

On Friday I slept the entire day and through the night. I think I slept nearly twenty-four hours. Chris was impressed. On Friday I had one coke. One. Coke. I was excited that my caffeine cycle was broken in the wheel of fortune of stomach bugs.

On Saturday we finally all arose alive and well. I drank two cups of coffee (why? why did I do that?!). C and I went to Kroger and our fridge is now full! Hooray! We hit up the arts festival nearby and went to the park. We discovered Nils' hidden talent of dancing and squawking like a chicken.

It's Sunday and we are back into our routine. Three or four or ten cups of coffee? Who's counting? Oh... my neurologist... crap.

Yes! We're back.

True Love

When we were in college Chris would often surprise me by hopping on my bus with a cold Diet Coke for yours truly. He would then ride around sitting in the seat behind me talking my face off while I drove in circles for a few hours.

Cold Diet Coke? Riding around on a miserable bus just to see me?! That's true love.

Remember the tires?

Chris got a handmade Valentine from me that said "I'll never tire of you."
The inside read, "I got rid of the tires. Happy Valentine's Day. You're welcome."

Getting rid of a potential craft project?! That's true love.

Yesterday we stayed after school to play on the playground. Carolena skipped on over to her music teacher and plopped down on the seat next to her "for a snuggle." She then looked up at her teacher and announced, "When I'm in college my boyfriend is going to bring me queso everyday."

Queso everyday?! That's true love, my friends. That's true love.

Friday

I'm currently reading Touch the Top of the World - the firsthand account of a blind man who is a mountain climber and the only blind person to have summited Everest. He also climbed the Seven Summits. So, yeah, he's basically my new hero. I found a signed copy at Goodwill, and as that sounds right up my alley, I of course tossed it in my cart. I'm totally sucked in - it is fabulous and fascinating. Weihenmayer lost his vision just before high school so he talks about what it was like and how he got into mountain climbing. The thing that makes the book so insanely good isn't that Weihenmayer talks so frankly about losing his eyesight, or even that he is so inspirational - it's that he's just so freaking likable as a person. Fabulous book.

Speaking of vision, Chris and I had a lunch date this week! What fun! Kids were at school and we met up at the eye doc to pick new glasses for Christophe. We were successful (too successful as I also picked out a new pair for myself and wore them around for a while. I'm thinking about going back to get them. They may or may not be basically a pink version of something similar to what I have now. PINK!! Oh, I love them) and then we went out for lunch. I think we need more lunch dates in the future. I'll wear my (yet to be purchased) pink glasses.

We bought a bike helmet for Nils this week and the kids and I rode bikes in the cul de sac. Well, they did. I don't have a bike so I just hung out and helped Nils. I think I'm going to ask Santa to bring me a tandem bike next year. Can't you picture me and Chris on a bicycle built for two? Yeah, me neither... we rarely fight but I have the feeling that would draw it out. Eh... worth it. Goodwill shoppers of the world keep your eyes peeled: Casey wants a tandem bike!

Yesterday I saw a baggie full of ashes on our kitchen counter and the thought immediately came to mind, "uh, why is a cremated person on our counter? That is so going to get lost" and then I quickly remembered the day before was Ash Wednesday. Whew. I thought Chris had lost his mind.

We got one of these things and set it up yesterday. Chris hung upside down by his legs on it. I was impressed and tried but chickened out. Turns out my dream to join the circus when I go back to work might not be the best option for my talents (or lack thereof).

Well, I just got home from bootcamp so I'm off to drink more coffee. It's spring weather outside so I'm feeling upbeat and carefree and thus my coffee intake has increased drastically. I'm okay with that seeing as how Chris will be out of town for the weekend and I'll have two little monkeys to keep up with all on my own. Wish me luck!

The Five Best Words

Contrary to what one might think the five best words a woman can hear from her husband are not, "I love you so much" or "you look so incredibly beautiful" or even "you are so insanely smart." I mean, don't get me wrong, those are wonderful. But... I mean...


The five best?

"I just cleaned the bathroom."


"I'll make dinner this week."


and... perhaps the best of all... in response to Mommy's announcement that she's going to go take a shower: "Let's give Mommy some privacy," and then when out and getting ready, "I brought you some coffee."

*sigh* Love. True love.

Reading, Eating, and Rising (Too) Early

Reading: The Casual Vacancy. I am totally sucked in and spent all of yesterday ignoring my children and reading. I don't feel guilty about that at all... that's how you teach people to love reading isn't it?

Eating: Too much. Ugh. I dread weighing in at WW this week. *sigh* What happened???
Oh, I remember. I switched migraine meds and have been crazy eating every since. Crap.

Coffee: two cups and sometimes a Diet Coke with lunch. What happened???

Amazon recommended this for me this morning: Pass the Tooting Stinky Pig - Funny Hot Potato Farting Dice Game Toy.
I'm speechless. Amazon, do you not know me at all? That seems like something someone would buy for me all the while thinking "Casey will love this. This is so her sense of humor" and I would open it and smile and think, "wow. This person does not know me at all. My feelings are so hurt that they think I would like this" and our friendship would be forever changed in subtle ways because of it. Amazon, that friend is you.

Nils has been waking up before 5am. I blame Chris.
Okay, okay, put down your pitchforks. Here's why: because like a week or two ago Chris said with a sigh, "Neither of our kids have ever come and slept in our bed."
I was like, "umm... yes. We're lucky like that."
To which he responded with "I wish they would. Just wake up during the night and run and hop in our bed and snooze. That would be great."
Me: "No. It wouldn't. That's why parents complain about that."

Fast forward to this morning. 430am Nils in our room.
Me to Chris "I blame you for this."
Chris, "I just want him to do this and not wake us up."
Me, "aaaargh!"

Tale as Old as Time

Chris' response to this?

"Aww man. Looks like I'm going to stay a beast forever!"

Well, at least that means we get to keep Mrs. Potts.

Ta-Da!

As Nils likes to say (about anything and everything of note), TA-DA!

Ladies and gents, we have a clubhouse (my term)/fort (Chris' term)/pirate ship (Carolena's)/sliiide! (Nils')!

We've been talking about building something for our kids since... well forever really. Even before having kids we talked about how we would one day build something for them to play on in the backyard.

This time last year we started really talking about it more and couldn't come to a consensus. Chris wanted to build a huge ship to the tune of like 4.7 million dollars. I wanted to find scrap supplies and build "a series of platforms" to the tune of roughly the cost of screws.

So we dropped the conversation and continued to think about it on our own. Then we went to a friend's house where we saw a small platform he'd built for his kid... and the light bulb finally went off. Chris was like, "ohhh NOW I see what you mean... why would you call that a 'platform?'"

And then our idea for "platforms" grew into "with a slide!" and "a deck underneath!" and extra room on the end so that "maybe one day we'll add on a swing!"

Very little conversation actually went into the finished product. Chris whipped up some plans (because he's awesome like that). I tossed in a few ideas (very few because he looked deep in thought and calculations).

I think all of the planning happened on Friday morning, and then Chris went to Home Depot, came home with a truck bed full of supplies, and we went to work!

I committed to the project as "the brawns" and dubbed Chris "the brains." As long as he gave me clear instructions I would just work. And... low and behold... it worked! No fighting went into the making of our clubhouse. I became a master at holding up boards while Chris attached them (helllo shoulders! yikes!) and then I became a master at using the drill as I attached more than half of the boards on that bad boy. Chris was in charge of measuring and cutting as that made me nervous. So, no fighting went into it, but plenty of blood and tears (there would have been sweat but the weather was a perfect Texas spring January day). The tears were Nils' (it's hard to be two) and the blood was mine as I once missed the screw and hit my finger with the drill. Eeeww.

Chris and I had a blast building something together, we have an awesome (insanely sturdy) clubhouse/fort/pirate ship/slliiiiide, the kids are giddy, and all is right with our backyard (for now!).

We finally got around to putting out the mailbox I found in Goodwill months ago and c has had just as much fun with that thing as she has the huge "pirate ship."

There were only two snafus along the way (well, besides drilling my finger which went by with a lot of blood and little to-do). Snafu one happened on Saturday morning when I awoke worried that the structure was too tall. We weren't home that day to work on it and when we came home I confessed my concern about the height. After some thinking and talking about the height (and consulting my bro-in-law), we Chris turned the entire thing on its side and cut off a foot from the bottom! Hercules! Hercules! We hadn't built the bottom deck yet if you are wondering how that was possible.

Numero dos? Wellll as you can probably imagine Chris and I have different ideas as to what should happen with all of the leftover wood. Yesterday Chris and I dubbed our project "finished!" and while I gazed lovingly and thoughtfully at the pile of scrap, Chris was already walking into the backyard with the trashcan. Hmph. So we compromised. I gave Chris plans for two "planters" and he built two boxes. Free?! And we can put some cute plants in there?! Yes. Then I agreed to let him to throw away a bunch of stuff while he agreed to indulge me in sticking a bunch of very useful and awesome and "we paid for this already!" boards into the garage. You know, to sit next to the fence boards I salvaged from our new fence project two years ago... oops.

Man, speaking of things I've salvaged... I have four truck tires in our backyard right now. I had big plans for those tires like "sink them in the grass!" but it turns out they are too rubbery/springy for that, and "make alligators!" but none of our saws can cut through the metal in the tire (believe me I tried and tried), and now "uhh... tire swing?" crap.

I'm looking forward to hours and hours of fun in our improved backyard. Let the mint julep season begin!

Yesterday and the Land of Lincoln

Yesterday I did the unthinkable: I watched tv (okay Netflix) all day long.

*gasp*

At Kelly's insistence I've gotten hooked on Jane the Virgin which has upped the number in the overlap of the venn diagram of tv shows Kelly and I like.

Chris is making breakfast for the kids right now. I'm making a venn diagram of tv shows my sister and I like. He's a patient man. Although... he doesn't know that's what I'm doing... bwah ha ha ha!

Back to yesterday. Yesterday I dropped kids off at school and then came home and crashed on the couch. My brother was passing through town and I met him for some great Tex-Mex and then I came home and crashed again until it was time to pick up kids. Guys, I don't think I've EVER spent a school day like that. It was great. Certainly not something I want to do regularly but once a semester or so for sure.

After picking up the kids from school we did this:

My parents gave Chris a HUGE container of Lincoln Logs for Christmas. See that huge blue container? When all of the Lincoln Logs are in it... it's FULL. My plan is to sneak all of the train tracks out of Nils' room one day when he's napping so we can build a huge log cabin village with a train running all through it. I would include Nils except that the majority of the time he plays construction games with us we dub him "Godzilla."

Yesterday was great. Today: a trip to the library, a huge trip to the grocery store, and of course, the Lincoln Log container is already open.

This Morning

This morning I can't help but wonder how many Americans who are angry, scared, prejudiced against Muslims have ever actually really known anyone who is Muslim.

This morning I am worn out from yesterday... a day that began full of promise and list item check-offing. A day that crashed into a migraine with aura (the worst scariest kind), a sore upper back (the spot on my body where I used to repeatedly pull the same muscle and thus was freaked out that I might pull it again and be unable to move for days), and a sick Nils. Luckily, migraines with aura (though I lose my vision due to the aura and they hit fast and hard) don't tend to last very long (a few hours) so I was out of bed by the evening and able to help Chris when he found that Nils had thrown up in his bed and merely scooted over and gone back to sleep. So, with sore head and sore back I slept on Nils' floor and awoke periodically with him to "shush" him back into slumber.

This morning I keep thinking about Sarah Condon's latest for Mockingbird: Of Lice and Life and the Relief of Naming the Mother in the Room. Yes, yes, that resonates around here.

This morning I am relieved to have an email from the church where I have been the guest speaker as of late, telling me that people have been talking about the topic and anyone who has missed one has been worried about what they missed. Whew. I put so much work into teaching and it's hard to tell if people care or not. It's nice to know when they care.

This morning I'm thinking about the things that I can do while staying home all day with poor Nils. Laundry of course... because there is always freaking laundry. Perhaps I should pack for the wedding. Thanks to Kelly, grandmothers expect kids' hand print ornaments every year so I better get those rolling. I shouldn't complain because they are awesome and I'm happy to have them as well... but dang, Kel, you couldn't have chosen easier hand print ornaments to make each year than sewing them?! Those are a labor of love far above and beyond any pot of caramel corn.

This morning kids are watching Thomas the Tank Engine and I'm just thinking about how someday they'll be old enough to watch 30 Rock and they'll be like, "what is this crap? This is so weird! What year is this from?... and wait... I know that voice... is that guy the narrator from Thomas?!" and I'll just say, "Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice!"

Mary Has Chosen the Better Part

Currently reading: still in the depths of Benjamin Franklin. As it turns out if you just read a paragraph here and there when you steal a minute or two to read... then it takes forever to read a book. Better than not reading though.
Number of cups of coffee gulped down this morning: wouldn't you like to know? Hmph. Yeah, like I'd admit that number. You'd probably send that info straight to my neurologist. I don't need that kind of blackmail information hanging out there.
Number of various to-do and check-offs and grocery lists and what-nots stacked up in the kitchen: too many.


I'm not the person who gets caught up in the Christmas consumerism. Oh Heaven's no. Have you met me? No, no, no. I am guilty of the same thing Martha is in Luke (10:38-42). Martha, as it turns out, is "distracted by her many tasks" (Luke 10:40).

In the Greek it actually says that she was distracted by her ministry.

So, what have I been distracted by this Advent season? Well, I'm teaching an adult forum on Luke. I spent a million hours stuck at our stove while I labored over caramel corn for librarians and teachers and various other people for whom we give thanks (side note: thanks a lot Houston December humidity for ruining so much of that). We brought cookies to the employees at the Goodwill near our house. We've got a huge thing of chocolate bark peppermint candy that needs to be packaged and given away. Gatorade and candy packets are waiting for the recycling truck guys to pass by so that I can run out with a cheering Nils on my hip. A hundred packets of Martha Stewart's hot cocoa we're made for the church Christmas party. I'm in charge of the craft for Nils' Christmas party so instead of being a "normal" mom and just buying some sort of kit I wanted to use things we already had on hand and created a bunch of snowmen for them to glue together. Of course. Logical. And all family gifts have been carefully created or selected, wrapped, and put away. Well, almost all.

Yes, Martha, I too have been distracted by my ministry. That's the kicker about Advent, isn't it? Even if you're doing good things, they can still be insanely distracting. And the problem for me is that I love it. I love all of those things. As my sister always reminds me, we all have the same amount of time and just choose how we spend it. I, for one, don't watch tv. And ever since my Facebook epiphany I don't waste much time online either. Thus, I have "plenty of time" (or do I?) for all of this other stuff.

Isn't it interesting that Luke notes that Martha was distracted BY her ministry and not FROM it?

My goal was to be finished with the lists after this weekend (which for us meant when I went to bed on Saturday). It didn't happen. Instead I turned into Martha, burned my arm, and stood crying over a pot of hot caramel. Had Jesus been sitting in the living room I would have stormed in and demanded that he send someone into the kitchen to help me. Man, I hope that batch of caramel corn doesn't turn out Like Water for Chocolate!

The funny (sad?) thing is that if I were caught up in the Christmas consumerism, that would be an easier habit to break. I think it's much harder to keep oneself from getting too distracted by ministry. Saying "I'm not going to spend $500 on electronics for our kids this year!" is much easier than saying, "We aren't going to give presents to our garbage truck drivers anymore" (because, duh, of course we are. They are the people we are more thankful for than almost anyone!).

So, what's the solution?

I don't know actually. Starting preparations earlier? Maybe. Typing up a list of things I do every single year so that I at least know what I'm in for next year? Maybe. Setting aside times for sitting like Mary? Yes. For sure. And, well, maybe giving up some of the ministry actually. Perhaps I don't have to do everything. Maybe the teachers don't care if we give homemade caramel corn or just pick up a bunch of Starbucks gift cards. Hell, maybe they'd prefer the gift cards.

But that's the problem. I don't want to give gift cards. I LIKE doing it all. I like handmade gifts. I like the thought and effort it takes. I like that my children see the work and love (and yes, sometimes tears) that goes into giving around here.

You know what would have lessened the stress this year? Had I not gotten rid of all my winter clothes last summer. I mean, in my defense, they were all way too big (woo!) but it is pretty damn anxiety-producing that we're leaving town for a wedding on Thursday morning and I LITERALLY don't have clothes to bring for all of the events.

WHY AM I BLOGGING WHEN I SHOULD BE BUYING SOME CLOTHES?

At least Advent is supposed a time of active expectation. Christmas is the time for joyful contemplation and celebration of incarnation. Maybe I'll just slow down for Christmas.

And maybe next year I'll do a better job at Advent.

Christmas Vacation

Our cats, Snot and Snot, are drinking all of our tree water. I thought that our tree was just taking up an enormous amount of water, but they've now become incredibly bold about it and just sit drinking the water like it's their own personal Evian bottle.

Someone has also been "nosing through the trash" and it's impossible to throw anything away in this house without C walking by, screeching that it's insanely valuable, and pulling it back out. Oh yes, I forgot that we needed to keep that Happy Meal box until the end of time rather than send it out for recycling.

Clark put up Christmas lights this year. Fewer than some of our neighbors but more than others and certainly much more than we've done in the past.

Aunt Bethany lives here too. I wish I could use pointer fingers to show where she is but... I have to use thumbs I suppose. Knitting, wearing crazy hats, hearing funny squeaky sounds... but there is something in the damn attic again!

What if the thing in the attic has put on an old funky hat and is teary-eyed and watching old Christmas videos?! Oh geeze.

Clark's been working on our toilet because "shitters full" - not really - somethings weird though as it keeps making a random flushing noise. Thank God I have a husband who fixes things.

Last year Cousin Eddie gave me the gift that kept on giving the whole year (a book of the month club that she made) and I opened the last one yesterday. It's actually the gift that will continue to keep on giving next year as well since I still have plenty of books to read.

Just kidding, Kelly. You're not Cousin Eddie. If I'm Aunt Bethany then of course you're Uncle Louis. hahaha!!! Oh HOLY MACKEREL - you're Uncle Louis.

Pause

Someone recently asked me if I like living in Katy.

And...

Well...

I hesitated before answering "yes."

BLARGH. I feel so guilty! I feel like my poor suburbia home was standing right there behind me about to say "hi!" and then overheard and turned away shedding a single tear (not that I would ever personify a city or anything). I feel like Olaf should have popped up next to me to jab a pointed stick arm in my face and screamed "you hesitated!"

Because... I hesitated. It was the briefest of pauses. But it was there. Yep, there it was. It was one of those just long-enough-to-notice pauses before my saying "yeah!" And I feel insanely guilty about it. I LOVE living in Katy. And yet, I hesitated.

I'm sure that the other person (Marriott, a classmate I hadn't seen in years) took it to be a statement on how I feel about my current hometown. It wasn't that at all. It was actually a pause to wonder how my "yes" would reflect upon me.

Ugh! Oh no! That might make me feel even worse. Oh, poor Katy suburbia, why must I continue to deny you?

But, the thing is, when we lived in DC (Alexandria to be exact - hellllooo Americana Quaintsville!) it was easy to proclaim our love for the area in which we lived. We fit there. It was diverse. It had seasons, real seasons for Pete's sake! We spent weekends at Smithsonian museums or trips exploring the east coast. People ask(ed) me how I like(d) living there and I shout(ed) "LOV(ED) IT!" before the question even leaves their lips.

And then we moved to Austin. And we lived in Austin proper. It was funky and eclectic. We went hiking and exploring and enjoyed life in another fabulously unique and diverse city. And once again, I fit in there and proclaiming my love for my city felt just fine. I was totally okay with saying I loved it there because of what that said about me.

I'm not someone who cares a whole lot about what other people think of me. But the thing with that is this: I do care that other people not misunderstand me. It bothers me when people assume things about me that aren't true. If they don't like the truth about me then that's fine... but when people think things about me that aren't true (even if they like it or agree) ugghh that gets under my skin.

So what does it tell the other person when I now announce that I love living in Houston burbs? I'm only living 80something miles from where we grew up. Do they then assume that I am a Texas cliche through and through? okay... I just typed out a list of what I think that looks like... and then deleted it so as to not offend the masses. If you haven't lived outside of Texas... we don't always look that great from outside our state. I'm an expert as I've lived in a whopping two other states one of which for a few months (that was snark in case you didn't catch it).

*sigh*

So, yeah, I paused.

Had we still lived in either of those other places I would have felt perfectly comfortable telling this old classmate that I loved living there. Because that fits in line with who I see myself to be. This girl doesn't know me at all. We haven't seen or talked to one another in about fifteen years. So, telling her that I love Katy was going to be one small slice of identity. Who is Casey now? Someone that lives and loves suburbia Tejas.

Is that me?

When we moved to Katy I met like one person my age who didn't wear sweatpants with a word across the buttocks and have big bleached out hair and bedazzled everything (and thankfully she quickly befriended me, hi Katie!). To be honest I was a little shell shocked by all of the... well... not Austin or DCness of the place.

And then we began to get settled in. We started meeting people at church and school. I got involved with the Y. I met people in our neighborhood. I became one of the regulars at our grocery store. We added another nugget to our household. And we found that Katy fits pretty damn well. We love everyone we've met here... including the previously prejudged-by-Casey-bedazzled. We've made friends (great friends!) and a life for ourselves. It's a life that is... well, it screams in fact... SUBURBIA!

We love Katy for its people. We love its small town feel and proximity to "tha big bayou city" (also said in a weird made up cajun country accent). Our church in Katy (which you clergy fams know has a big impact on life) is my favorite church of any church I've ever attended (which would be a total of six churches plus this one). We love love love the life we have here in Katy.

Evidently, as I learned about myself last week, Katy (the suburb) is like some strange ugly crush that I'm trying to keep secret. I didn't realize that about myself.

But here's the other thing it made me realize: anyone could love living in a diverse interesting exciting place. What does loving Katy say about me? Maybe it doesn't scream that I love guns. Maybe it doesn't say that I hate people of other race or religions. Perhaps it doesn't tell people that I prefer trash to recycling. Maybe it doesn't tell people any of those things... because I am none of those things. Perhaps it just says that I bloom where I'm planted. Hopefully, it tells people that I am willing to embrace where I am. Hopefully the next time I'm asked I won't pause before answering. I'll believe that saying "yes!" tells them that I see the good in any place and love meeting new people and sinking my roots deep into whatever soil we happen to be in.

And, hell, let's face it: evidently I'm suburbia. Did you see the list? {I love my church, my kids' preschool, my grocery store, and the ymca?} shit. I might as well sell the Prius for a minivan covered in stick figures right now. I guess I AM a stay-home-mom wearing reindeer pajama pants writing a blog for no one at 5 in the morning while I drink coffee and listen to whatever critter has now taken up residence in our attic. Hmph. The attic critter is probably wearing pjs, drinking coffee, and writing a more interesting blog than me. Well, just as long as its not smoking anything up there. Although... smoking a pipe with an attic critter miiiigghhttt make life in suburbia more interesting...

Wait... I'm a suburban "pastor's wife, mother, and housewife" - why didn't I realize that?!?!

Man, one stupid pause and my whole image of my interesting eclectic self is shot. Totally shot. Damn it Marriott! I blame her.