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.

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?

Day Three of My Captivity

I'm looking at DAY THREE stuck in our house.

So yeah, I don't have much of interest to blog about right now.

I've been barfed on six times in the last twenty-four hours. Surprisingly, that doesn't bother me. It exhausts me... but doesn't gross me out like I would have thought. Maybe because comforting my sweet Nils is more important than worrying about the vomit. Or maybe because I've spent my entire life as a barfer (oh man, I throw up easily) so vomit is commonplace rather than totally gross. Who knows.

Chris came home with a huge container of bath salts and a new candle and sent me straight into a hot bathtub. And while I was soaking away the smell of vomit, he dealt with the insurance mumbo jumbo that's been annoying me.

Last night included one vomiting child incident so I slept a portion of the night on his floor. At some point I awoke and wanted to move to my bed only to discover both of my legs were asleep. It was quite painful and comical. I ended up literally crawling to the couch where I once again attempted to stand twice, and collapsed twice, before turning into She-Ra and just using my upperbody to toss myself onto the couch. I slept there until I heard Nils throwing up again. I awoke Chris and upon going to Nils' bed, found that I must have dreamed the throwing up as Nils was fast asleep.

This morning began with coffee, more vomit, and more coffee. I miraculously got Nils to fall back asleep and wound up taking a nap as well. More coffee. More laundry. More of a day inside. I'm getting cabin fever and it might be getting weird around here. I desperately needed to get to the grocery store days ago. And needed a haircut last week that I put off until this week. So... that's a bummer.

If you would like to talk to me conversational choices are limited to Sir Ernest Shackleton, Eric Weihenmayer, Mt. Everest's Death Zone, our upcoming vacation, and Lorna's backstory on Orange is the New Black. Anything else and I can assure you I am only pretending to listen.

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!"

Just Beachy

For the first time (ever!) my mom and sister and I went to the beach together. Just us (with guest appearances by Jimmers).
It. Was. Awesome.

We drank margaritas and danced the night away at the Ship's Wheel and got manicures and laid out.

*Kidding*

We worked on puzzles and searched for sharks' teeth for hours (I found fourteen!). Then we worked on more puzzles. We wandered through the Gulf Coast Market and Bolivar's one and only thrift store. We worked on more puzzles. We blew right through nap time and looked for more sharks' teeth. We went out for dinner at seven pm (what?! wild and crazy!) and Kelly and I ate a mountain of bbq crabs at the Stingaree.We didn't change any diapers. We didn't refill anyone's milk. We were un-needed for over 24 hours while our own mother took care of us. It was pretty much mom-of-toddlers heaven.

I even stayed in bed until seven. What?!

And then... I came home... to the greatest family ever. One of the best things about going away is missing each other. Chris and I have known each other for longer than we didn't know one another. That sentence was confusing. I met Chris when I was fourteen and I'm now almost thirty-three. So, yeah, missing him every once in a while is kind of nice.

I came home to a clean house and a huge cardboard space shuttle in the living room (I paid 8 bucks for that thing at Goodwill. Score! It's bigger than it looks online). A clean house. Sleeping beautiful children. Bliss.

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.

Thanksgiving

Last night Chris came home to two smiling children. They were bathed and in their pajamas and fresh-faced and sparkling. Those two sweet crumpets sat quietly together reading a book while I handed Chris a drink and politely told him that dinner was ready and that I just needed a minute more to finish my own book. It was bliss.

Oh wait. Nope.

Chris could hear the screaming when the garage door was still rising. Mine? Carolena's? Nils'? Who knows? All I know is that you don't speak to your viking mother like that if you don't want to see her fly into a fit of rage. I think my own mother's Brooklyn accent came out.

And yet, when Chris said something about our "rough day" I had to admit that, despite a few low-lows, it really wasn't bad. We got the house cleaned up and worked on a surprise for someone we love. We went on a first-ever-in-the-kids'-lifetime-trip through a big machine car wash which was a huge hit. We had a blast "hootin and hollarin" and as soon as we drove out Nils started chanting "again! again! bunny! bunny!" ("Bunny" is how he says "funny" which is insanely adorable, especially considering the number of things he finds "bunny!").

Last night once the children were in bed and the fireplace was lit and all was quiet and calm, I looked at Chris and marveled. This is the dream. Eleven years ago we were engaged and our families were gathering together for Thanksgiving. We were full of love and hope... hope that one day we would be right here. Right here with kids and a home full of love and laughter and yes, sometimes yelling and tears. A home full of real life. And it's wonderful. And I'm thankful.

Yes, it's messy and loud (mostly due to me and the minis). It's up and down and all around. But it's the dream we dreampt and keep dreaming. Someday we'll be really old (and tattooed) and wrinkled together. Chris will still be talking and talking and talking. Kids will be grown. I'll be... drinking coffee. And we'll continue to give thanks. We'll marvel at our old and shrunken hands and inspect one another's wrinkled brows and smile. We'll look around us then too and say, ""Look! This! It's the dream! Thank God thank God thank God!"

I'm Being Swallowed By a Boa Constrictor...

Oh no, oh no, he swallowed my toe! He swallowed my toe!

With two little ones under the age of five and a second (very loveable but sometimes somewhat demanding) spouse named "the Church," life involves a lot of squeezing right now. Squeezing in the things that have to happen like laundry and dinner and vestry meetings and working to fill them with love as best we can rather than stress. My little helper monkeys folding laundry help to fill that task with love (and wrinkles) and the combination of working ahead, a freezer, and a crock pot sure does fill our dinners with less stress and more love. And pizza and a movie as the standing vestry night activity around here will forever be what my children think "vestry" means. Someday they'll be active adults in a parish, run for vestry, and be disappointed to discover that the meeting doesn't mean hitting up the redbox (or future equivalent), tossing on pajamas, and spreading "the pizza blanket" across the living room.

I don't have time for squeezing in Facebook or watching tv or movies. But I do have time for crafting with my kids. And baking a freezer full of baked goods for the school fall fair. And squeezing in the library, and decorating for Halloween (it's an on-going creative process around here), and more baking for the school fair. I've squeezed in time for reading for fun falling asleep snuggled with my book (Into the Wild at the moment) and am exactly one week ahead in my work on the Gospel of Mark... which isn't as good as it sounds because I really need to squeeze in the end of that and get to work on Luke! Yikes!

We've squeezed in ballet lessons, and pumpkin patches, and plenty of spontaneous family dance parties... most of which are initiated by Nils hearing a song he likes on Pandora and yelling "come on! come on!" dancing around the den. He loves my "Proud Mary" station. We're also squeezing in more than enough time for preschool humor knock-knock jokes. Nils loves those as well and has already added his own to the mix... spoiler alert: boy humor evidently begins before the age of two. You don't want to answer the door if he says "knock knock!"

I'm squeezing in my early morning workouts. We're squeezing in special family time being sure to mark it off in advance on the calendar... because we're taking the wisdom of older, wiser clergy families and refusing to let our family get squeezed out. And in the midst of all of the squeezing we find rejoicing and prayer and thanksgiving. Constant thanksgiving.

I'm being swallowed by a boa constrictor... but I'm a Syltherin so it's just fine. We're doing alright. We'll just toss the boa a party hat and invite it to the next Proud Mary living room dance party.

Grace-Full

Some days I nail it. Some days I have a seemingly unlimited amount of patience for critters in my household including but not limited to cats, children, a husband, and a plethora of spiders. Some days I am creative and fun and resourceful and kind. Some days I am generous and compassionate.

BUT...

But some days I have a secret (until Chris finds me) crying melt down in the laundry room because someone *cough*not-me*cough* unknowingly spilled bleach on the edge of the kitchen counter and I got it on my new shirt and one of only two pairs of shorts that fit me well. You know, my new shirt that I found at Goodwill this week (and is thus not replaceable) that says "think positive" across it.
And no, the irony of hiding in the laundry room to cry over bleach on someone else's cast-off "think positive" shirt is not lost on me at all.

Some days I have stressing melt downs over the fact that the work that I literally did not have time to get done until Saturday morning (scheduled to be done between the hours of 440-7am) was interrupted by the early rising of a chipper nugget who refused to "go snuggle with Daddy." It is a universal law of motherhood that any work left until the early morning hours of the last possible minute will be interrupted by a random early riser.

Some days I awake tired because of the Halloween festival that I forced everyone to go to at bedtime the night before which was not really even fun. Some days the coffee just isn't strong enough. Some days the scheduled on the calendar "family day nothing else!" turns out to be a day when everyone should really just hide from my wrath.

And days like this are the days I'm reminded of grace. Free, unearned, undeserved, free flowing love.

Chris took the kids to the park for the morning so that I could finish my work. Pizza dough is rising. Beer is in the fridge. Aggies are on tv much to the glee of Nils who cries out "football! football! and is happily eating two suckers and a box of Nerds while watching the game (duh, didn't I already convince you it's that kind of day around here?). Supergirl is flying around ready to "save the people!" and now that my slightly postponed work is finally finished I know that a good book and a calm bed are calling my name.

Yes, grace abounds. Grace abounds.

Clergy Spouse Confessions: Spousal Support

Every year I know that the fall is going to be busy. And yet every freaking year I do nothing to prepare for it. It's like I see the hurricane icon swirling on the map and all of the little lines projecting pathways only to my house, and then I'm like, "oh hell let's just see what happens." Maybe some year I'll think to fill up some water bottles and purchase some batteries, but alas, once again, we're swirling around in the hurricane winds wondering where some damn dry matches might be.

Every clergy spouse reading this right now is nodding.

The fall is just BUSY. Busy might be an understatement though. Busy as in, sometimes the person who makes up the clergy portion of the clergy family works everyday kind of busy. I don't mean to lesson the busy-ness of others. And actually, *helllooo hypocrisy* I hate when people talk about how busy they are. I'm lucky enough to have a spouse that isn't a work-a-holic. But busy is just how it is.

I'm not the kind of spouse that is "anti" everything. I'm actually totally into it. I love the Episcopal Church. I'm the one who raises her hand when asked on the spouse retreat, "who's kind of into the whole church thing?" as opposed to raising it for "who wants to just sleep in on Sundays?" So that means that I'm teaching Adult Christian Education every week and leading Children's Chapel here and there along with all of the other things that pop up. Plus I can't stop signing up for things for the fall. What the hell is wrong with me?!

But I'm actually not complaining right now. I kind of like the franticness. Is that sick? I love fall in the clergy family. It's crazy and insane and busy and ministry ministry ministry. And it's an exhausting blur of signups and smiles and love and feeling too tired to function and scheduling days on our calendar that say "family day! nothing else!"

I just need to remember to be better prepared for it. I thought about it this year. In August I filled the freezer with frozen meals and crockpot dinners and muffins. And then I was so proud and excited to be ready for September and October that we ate them all.

And by that I mean we ate them all before life got too busy to deal with dinner.

Crap.

Luckily we (the kids and I) don't have anything that we have to do tomorrow. So Halloween crafting and cooking to refill the freezer are on the agenda. Except just the former and not the latter because I really can't handle going to the grocery store for a third time this week. It is only Monday night after all. And returning library books... we've got to do that for sure. And hopefully go get flu shots. Because dear Lord we do NOT have time for the flu around here.

A few months ago (like last spring) I was thinking about contacting other minister's wives of all denominations in Katy and starting some sort of group. Then I blew it off because, eh. Reasons. Excuses. Life. The usual. Anyway - I guess the Holy Spirit started the group anyway because randomly THREE of us all exercise together at 515 in the morning three times a week. Weird, huh? A methodist minister's wife, an episcopal priest's wife, and a nondenominational pastor's wife all walk into bootcamp... sounds like the start of a lame joke to me.

Thanks to the 515 meeting of my clergy spouse support group I know that I am not the only one who didn't put together the hurricane preparedness kit this year. Whew. Next year... next year...

Clergy Spouse Confessions

Chris was first ordained in June 2009 (in the Episcopal church you are ordained first to the transitional deaconate and then later to the priesthood). So, six years ago this month! And during this time I have made a few observations from my spousal point of view...

Confession: clergy spouses crave community.
Confession: clergy spouses (at least I have found) seek community with one another.
Confession: clergy spouses fall into two camps. There are the whiners. And everyone else.

Well, that about sums up life as a clergy spouse. Now, bring me a slice of leftover wedding cake and some rum and let's call it a day.

What? You expect some sort of explanation of that? *sigh* Well, alright. I'll do my best.

Confession: clergy spouses crave community.
Well, don't we all? I believe that we (humanity) were created for community. God himself is a triune being who exists as community. Clergy spouses, I have found, often have a spoken desire for community. I don't think it is necessarily a different or deeper desire than that of anyone else, but, in my experience, it is articulated and intentionally sought after. Why this might be the case is open to more speculation and I have plenty of thoughts. Too many in fact to go into here. If you want to talk about it come over and we'll drink coffee or rum according to the time of day.

Chris' ordination to the deaconate June 2009

Confession: clergy spouses (at least I have found) seek community with one another.
This too, is open to speculation and I can only speak to my experience. However, thus far, in my six year tenure as a clergy spouse I have found that other spouses (of any denomination) perk up immediately when they hear about this particular role in my life. I think it has to do with understanding. Everyone wants to feel understood, right? Back to that whole craving community thing. Perhaps clergy spouses crave one another because we "get" each other in a way that others don't fully understand.

I recently became friends with a pastor's wife of a different denomination in town. She told me that I am the only pastor's spouse she knows and said this with an expression of deep relief on her face. I can't imagine what her life has been like until now. Her husband works for what most would call a mega-church. How has she not had anyone to call on days when her entire Sunday morning fell apart due to kids with fevers? Or kids getting too crazy in the pew? How alone has she felt on Sundays when friends have introduced her to new people as "the first lady" (ugh, never do that. We haaaatteeee that)? Who listens compassionately and then tells her to suck it up when her husband leaves tuck-ins to her because he has to head to the hospital? Who helps her laugh through the busy seasons and knows to leave packages of coffee and cookies on her doorstep when she's home alone during all of September, Advent, and Holy Week? Wait... why don't my friends know that?

Yeah, clergy spouses crave community as much as everyone else does. We find it in a variety of places. I am lucky enough to have a truly fabulous community in our church home. I am also lucky enough to have a great support network of spouses to call when (*ahem*) too many people ask me questions that require me to answer laughingly "I don't work here!"

People, seriously! I love you. I really do, but stop asking me these things. I never know! I don't work there!

Chris' ordination to the deaconate June 2009

Confession: clergy spouses fall into two camps. There are whiners. And everyone else.
Isn't this true of everything? I try to fall into the latter camp. One of my favorite friends in the spouse world has been a clergy spouse for 40 years or so. She and her husband married in their twenties and he is now near retirement. Their children are grown and have children of their own. Her attitude is this, "I choose to be happy." Now, isn't that a great outlook on life? Fabulous. She once spoke (spontaneously) at a spouse retreat (yes, we do that) about how her husband can be a bit of a work-a-holic. Truth be told, my husband is not a work-a-holic (thanks Chris, good job!) but all clergy family can sometimes feel like the church is an extra spouse. Anyway, she said that her husband works so much. Her words? "What am I gonna do? I can't change him. Lord knows I've tried! I'm not gonna divorce him. I love him. So, a long time ago I chose to be happy. So that's what I do. I choose to be happy."

Wow, typed out that sounds crazy and unhealthy. But I know her. And it isn't. It's awesome. She decided to accept the things she can't change for what they are and make changes in her own life accordingly. Instead of pouting that her husband was at work (which is sometimes super awkward, "What do you mean you're going to go bless someone dying?! I thought we were going to watch The Blacklist together!") she took on a life of her own. She made a life for herself and enjoys their life together. Certainly something for all spouses (of any occupations) to aspire.

I hear more coffee percolating so there is nothing in the world that is going to keep my hiney glued in this chair any longer.

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord!

Caped

A year or two ago my mother showed up with a Christmas tree skirt for Carolena to wear as a cape.

Yes, that's the way we roll around here.

And then Carolena watched Frozen 50,000 times and her cape became "Anna's cape" and made its way into the costume box for more frequent caped escapades.

My friends, Nils has discovered the cape. And, not surprisingly... it... is... a... HIT.
King Nils. What a guy. 

Tune in tomorrow to find out what Nils, Carolena, and I surprised Chris with when he got home from work today. Hint: it involved $0, a ladder, paint from our garage, and lots and lots of painters' tape.



Actually, I'm not sure I'll care about blogging it by tomorrow. Here:
Nils helped me tape...

Carolena helped me paint...

and, voila!