Fortunately, Unfortunately

Fortunately,
I made it in time to parent pickup for the boys at school.
 

Unfortunately,
this is what the inside of the van looked like when the principal opened the door to put the boys in.

Fortunately,
I haven’t received a call from DCF yet.

Unfortunately,
Fed Ex men had to go to work today in the rain and deliver all day with wet shirts and squishy shoes.


Fortunately,
one of these Fed Ex men delivered my new canner today.
 

Unfortunately,
the boys ripped it open before I even saw it or brought it inside and there was a rather ugly battle over the box.



Fortunately,
everyone gave up fairly quickly, no blood was drawn and the canner survived unscathed.


Unfortunately,
the instructions were removed by a particular little boy and blew away before I could capture them.  Also unfortunate is the fact that canning without following said instructions can lead to fatal diseases like botulism.
 


Fortunately, 
this little boy does cute enough things that I've already forgiven him.



Unfortunately,
I have one small child bear crawling into the street right now.



Fortunately,
I have fairly good voice control over him and our street is quiet.





Unfortunately,
Gavin announced today that he will not be attending college.  He’s just going to be a professional scooter rider (Tommy announced last night that he wants to be a handicapped man when he grows up…it was later discovered that he meant handy man).
     


Fortunately,
this guy isn’t into professional scootering he’s satisfied with his pass me down bent and broken thrift store trike.



Unfortunately,
this very same trike is perfectly capable of running over anything in Finn’s way…sticks, rocks, and small boy children.



Fortunately,
no one argued when Finn announced that after playing outside for an hour and a half it was time to go in the house.
 


Unfortunately,
 the highly sought after box came in also and another battle ensued.



Fortunately,
I was able to sit on the porch for a moment and catch this sunset while retrieving my canner from the front yard before stepping back through the front door, my portal to chaos. 

Fortunately,
I really like these little boys that have created my chaotic life.

Not Me Monday

Since I work every weekend at the hospital I miss going to mass.  I do however receive communion from the traveling communion lady (a good Catholic would know the proper name for these people) each and every Sunday in the ICU.  I also fail to make it to confession on a regular basis so I'm hoping this will suffice for my way past due reconciliation.  GOD, if you happen to read this, please become a follower.  I really would like some input from time to time.  Here's a look at my latest week

This week a stray puppy didn't find us and I didn't let it in the house and I didn't tell the boys to name it.  I also didn't secretly hope Scott would fall in love with him and I most certainly wasn't a little disappointed when his owner came looking for him later that night.

This week I didn't find a pregnancy test while cleaning the van (I also don't have a van dirty enough to have a pregnancy test hidden in it) and run in the bathroom to use it.  That would be silly!  For all my family out there praying it was negative, you win, it was (I promise, the vasectomy will be soon, right after I finish my 2009 taxes and get Finn's speech screened)

This week I didn't ignore the low fuel light in my van knowing that Scott would be the next one to drive it and would have to fill it up.  That would be mean. 

This week it wasn't me who fed a stray cat and tried to tempt it up onto my front porch every night knowing that Scott doesn't want any more cats.  I wouldn't do that, but in the event that he figured out, all on his own how to use the cat door?  That wouldn't be my fault.

It wasn't me who fasted for two days before seeing my nutritionist.  That would be pointless, I've been eating all the right foods and definitely didn't find a new favorite cookie at Publix the other night.  What kind of person would go to a nutritionist for six months only to gain two pounds?  Someone with no self control, that's who.  I also didn't celebrate when she changed my goal from losing two pounds this week to not gaining any weight this week.  I would never premake excuses for why I probably was going to have a bad week.  I would never tell her I was being audited by the IRS and I would be really stressed.  That would most certainly bring bad karma. 

This week it wasn't  my husband who admitted that he loves watching I-Carly.  That would be childlike.  I would never marry a child.  I already have enough of them.

While in the ICU during rounds this week in front of several doctors and a cardiothoracic surgeon I didn't fall out of my rolling office chair behind the desk.  I'm not a klutz.  However, for those of you who may have done this at any point, I think it's ridiculous that any chair manufacturer would have a "dump" lever located very near the height adjuster. 

I didn't stop at our new favorite Mexican restaurant and pick up chips and salsa to surprise Scott with a late night dinner date snack and then eat them all before I got home.   Hypothetically if this did happen, I would never carefully hide all the evidence in the garage before going inside.

I would never leave a skink trapped in the game closet because I was too tired and lazy to get it out of the house.  If there ever was a skink in my game closet, it wouldn't be there because a certain orange cat brought it in through the cat door.  My cat would never do that (twice).  He is far too sophisticated to associate with skinks.  A blog about this second round with the skimk won't be showing up on this blog anytime soon!

It wasn't me who waited until this weekend to finish my 2009 taxes.  That would be irresponsible.  I would never procrastinate like that.  Speaking of procrastinating, I also wasn't the library patron who checked out an audio book last month from the library called "Stop Procrastinating and Start Living".  I would never check out a book like that and never listen to it and owe three dollars in late fees on it and still do nothing about it. 

I need to go now because it's late and I don't still have two little boys who should have been asleep hours ago in their own beds.

Nope, not me!

Somewhere Over The Rainbow

Somewhere over the rainbow

Skies are blue

And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.

15 minutes tearing through the garbage in the garage...

Another 10 minutes of ripping and fitting...

And then he's transformed...

into a carefully crafted...

Bionic boy robot.

And then he was off to save the world (or maybe conquer it).

Handyman Wanted

Crazy, loud, destructive family in desperate need of a handyman

Lovely family in need of a handyman

Must not get upset if children watch you work and touch your tools

Must like small children

Must be able to acquire rare missing lampshade hats

Must be resourceful

Must know how to get crayon off all surfaces

Cleaning knowledge a plus

Must fix this right now before Scott sees

Prompt attention to family heirlooms appreciated

Must be able to reinforce towel bars to withstand the weight of 40 pounds

Commercial quality construction experience wanted

Must be able to tell me what this wire is, 5 years and I still don't know

Expect some light electrical repair

Must be willing to undo some of my shady construction errors without laughing at me

Looking for a sensitive, non judgemental candidate

Alright, just make all the towel bars strong enough to hang on (it rains alot, we need some form of exercise)

Once again extreme durability in all repair jobs a must.

This job doesn't necessarily pay actual cash.  Consider it a resume building reference and experience.  Think of it more as a community project.  It's time for you to give back  a little.  I will be more than happy to pay you with dinner.  Please see attached invite. 

http://thetestosteroneadventures.blogspot.com/2010/07/wed-be-honored-to-have-you-for-dinner.html

If interested, apply in person and bring your tools, no point in wasting any one's time.    Also looking for a cleaning help, a nanny and a personal assistant.  So if you have friends, bring them (all).

It's August, it's Florida and it's miserable.

You ride home in a van with no air conditioning and then you step out onto the concrete driveway and fry your bare feet as you run up to the front door.  You fumble with the key while your already scorched feet are branded by the cast iron welcome mat.  You run into the house looking for some relief in the air conditioning only to find out you turned the thermostat up to 83 before leaving this morning. 

So what do you do?

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.........

Sweet Sweet Reprieve!!!

Scars

A great scar...

is good for character building...

and is a great ice breaker story at a party...

A great scar...

is tough looking...

and makes you more unique...

A great scar...

means you live life on the edge...

and possibly that you and your Dad both need more supervision.

For all of you that questioned my parenting and emergency first aid skills rest assured he's doing just fine.  It's kinda like the first dent in a brand new car.  It may be the first, but it most certainly won't be the last.

For those of you who missed Tommy's tangle with the ceiling fan, you can catch it here.

http://thetestosteroneadventures.blogspot.com/2010/07/just-call-me-if-you-cant-get-bleeding.html

And for those less sensitive individuals, the ceiling fan is also recovering just fine.

Mourning in the Garden

 

In the garden today…

The the corpses remain, the sunflowers with the broken necks stare down at the new seedlings taunting them that they too will soon die

Today in the garden…

The neglected grapes mourned their loss of vigor as they seem to be coming down with something terminal

Today in the garden…

The morning glories mourned their lack of love.  Every morning they put on a spectacular show for me and I’ve never once been out there early enough to see it.  By the afternoon they close up and hide from the unrelenting sun

Today in the garden…

The rosemary mourned the death of Queen, the camera shy spider and protector fending off anyone who might consider harvesting a little rosemary to go along with their dinner. 

  

Today in the garden…

The cherry tree mourned the loss of her overgrown branches and baby cherries after a ruthless groundskeeper gave her a trim when she threatened to block the backyard gate.

Today in the garden…

The carrot patch mourned the sacrifice of one of their children.

Today in the garden…

The watermelons mourned their confinement and planned a subtle escape.

Today in the garden…

An a young rose mourned for his dying mother while she took her last breath. 

Today in the house…

One small boy mourned the loss of an afternoon on his swing set spoiled by a rainstorm. 

Brothers for Life

People often comment on what polite and well mannered boys we have.  I gladly take the compliments but sometimes wonder if they are really referring to the same boys that are currently wrestling in hopes of drawing blood on the living room floor right now.  Excuse me while I diffuse this situation. 

"I don't care what a choke slam is, you don't use that on your brother."

I think Gavin is most happy when Tommy is getting punished for his latest crime and there is nothing more pleasing to Tommy than when he makes Gavin cry.  Some days it seems like they're at it from sun up to sun down.  I often refer to them as the pit bulls when venting to my mom via the telephone.  There are days when, to preserve my own sanity, I have to keep them separated like viscous dogs.  Tommy on one side of the house and Gavin on the other and the two shall not even make eye contact. 

So you can imagine my surprise when I picked them up from the skate park today.  I loaded all the skateboards and scooters and some very sweaty boys into the van and we started home and this is the conversation that followed:

Tommy:  Mom, do you know why I was sad today?
Me:  No, what happened?
Tommy:  You forgot to pack me my Gatorade and didn't pack any money for the Gatorade machine
Me:  Sorry Tommy, why didn't you get a drink from the water fountain?
Tommy:  I kept trying but I'm too short
Me: Why didn't you ask Miss Tammie to help you?
Tommy: Cause Gavin came over to help me
Me: How did Gavin help you?
Tommy:  He laid down on the blacktop and let me climb on his back so I was tall enough
Me: SPEECHLESS...

I couldn't believe it.  There are days when I feel like my children might watch each other drown and not stick out a hand to help.  Just picturing Gavin watching his brother in a this situation and problem solving and then laying down on the super hot blacktop and telling Tommy to climb up.  I wanted to pull the van over and get them out and hug them.  In all reality we were stuck in traffic on the bridge so I just praised them over and over.  They were really concerned when I had tears in my eyes calling Scott to tell him what incredible boys we have.

If true character is the person you are when no one's looking, may be a child's true character is the person they are when their mom isn't there looking over their shoulder.  If that's true then I'm so proud of the little men I'm raising and maybe some of the character building and compassion I'm trying to instill is sinking in.  I wish I could see some of these moments for myself but for now I remain the ref and things are getting pretty heated in the ring. 

"If you guys are gonna continue wrestling you better get outside where I can't see you... NO... NO CHOKE SLAMS"

What's Your Kitchen Sink?

This was mine for about 16 years.  When I tell the boys stories from my childhood, this is the place I draw from.  They have no concept of a house without cable, computers, a giant swing set and more toys than any young boys have business owning.

Growing up in sunny FL, the boys could never imagine sitting in the living room in the middle of January with the wind howling across the frozen lake and feeling a breeze even though the doors and windows are all closed.  Insulation was not really a feature that  was included in this one of a kind house.  Privacy was another issue.  We had no actual bedrooms or bedroom walls anyway.  With three other siblings it was kind of a pain  having a bathroom with no ceiling open to the loft above and a bathroom door with a large hole in it.  Our house was a constant project patch worked together with no consistency or cosmetic appeal. 

This may not sound like fun, but I have nothing but the fondest memories from my humble childhood.  We never went hungry although there were days when we ate most of our meals out of the garden.  We always had new shoes and were allowed to participate in as many extra curricular activities as we desired.  We would however, be required to be picked up in the family cruiser after said extra curricular activities.  This could be a little embarrassing depending on the latest cheap used car we were driving. 

Christmases were small although I never realized this until I was old enough to compare with friends and by that time, I understood.  I recently had a conversation with my mom.  She reminded me of one Christmas when all I wanted was a crystal lamp for my makeshift nightstand.  She bought me one and I kept my tiny faux crystal lamp all the way through high school.  There were years when we had to be the "mitten tree" family.  My older brother Pete received his all time favorite Christmas gift this way.  He loved to take apart and fix things so on his mitten my mom requested small broken household appliances.  The church ladies emptied their cabinets and wrapped up a giant box filled with assorted mixers, toasters, radios and the like.  I'd like to see Gavin or Tommy unwrap a gift like that this Christmas.  Probably wouldn't go over real well. 

Some of the best parts of living in such an informal household stemmed from the lack of rules.  You were allowed to "build" a bedroom wherever you wanted.  This entailed taking the staple gun and a bed sheet and making a wall.  The sheet was stapled to the bare studs and Viola, instant bedroom.  We tied ropes from the loft rafters and would swing out into the living room.  You were allowed to paint anything you wanted, doors, window frames etc...  Unfortunately for most of my childhood we only ever had one bucket of paint so most everything I touched was transformed into sickening turquoise color that I now despise. My little brother volunteered to bring home the baby chicks the kindergarten classroom hatched so my dad built a coop.  While the coop was being built, the chickens lived in the bathtub, try having to unload 12 chickens from your bathtub just to take a shower.  Our "playroom" where my sister and I kept our dolls was an abandoned car across the road that was slowly sinking into a swamp.  My brothers built a bomb in the basement and even detonated it.  That was an exciting day. I had a cockateil that lived in a nest in the rafters, not a cage, a nest.  She was allowed to fly anywhere she desired she was like a watch bird.  She would fly toward and land on the heads of unsuspecting strangers who dared to enter our house.  I think this happened to a police officer once.  What fun!!  We were given the room to be creative and the freedom to do whatever we wanted with what little we had within some very generous guidelines. 

I spent some time here on our last trip up north.  It's for sale now and will most likely be ripped down when it's purchased.  For many years I had no desire to step foot on this property, however, walking through the doors a few months ago I couldn't help but imagine spending the summers up here on the lake here with the boys.  It's such an innocent place.  The northwoods is filled with wholesome, kind hardworking people and the country lake setting is so appealing now that we're living in the middle of the high speed rat race. 

The boys were very excited to see where I grew up.  They charged through the front door, took a few steps in and stopped.  I think it took a minute to take everything in.  The filthy unfinished plank wood floor, the lack of interior walls and the interesting construction were all a little shocking.  After a second or so they were off again, climbing the ladder (yes ladder, who needs steps?) and peeking their heads up into the loft, Gavin commented, "This is dangerous... and I like it."  A sense of adventure is just what these boys need.  They live in such a plush environment now sheltered from anything even slightly uncomfortable.  It's hard to let them be boys when even an innocent bike ride by themselves surely would result in being attacked by a sexual predator.  This is the reality we live in now.  Nothing is innocent my guard is always up and it's hard to have much of a sense of adventure when your mom is hovering over your every move.

I realize that many of the parenting quirks I have come directly from childhood experiences.  I insist on matching bedding for the boys.  Most of my life we had handmade blankets and thin worn non matching sheets.  I would look through the JC Penney catalog entire afternoons trying to picture each one of the matching comforter sets on my hand me down bed.  I always want to have a house that the boys can feel proud to bring their friends home to.  Growing up I shuttered at the thought of inviting the girls in my class for a sleep over.  I would have been humiliated.  I didn't even have plan on  letting Scott see the inside of my house and then one day in high school we got into a snowmobile accident near our house and he had to come in.  I was tempted to make him wait in the driveway while his mom picked him up to bring him to the ER, but he had a dislocated shoulder so it just kind of happened.  I'm sure he was a little surprised but he never brought it up.  This was probably a pretty good sign of his character and a pretty good indicator even at 17 that he was going to be the right person for me marry and build a family with. 

I feel like my boys might be missing out on some of the character building experiences I had growing up.  I learned a lot of great skills growing up the way I did.  Things like how to make a meal with nothing but ingredients from our garden and how to build a fire in a wood stove and how to get ready for school in ten minutes with zero privacy (to this day, Scott takes longer than I do to get ready) and how to sew curtains and scrunchies (yeah we really did this) and how to raise guinea pigs for profit.  Priceless life skills I tell you...Priceless.  Maybe it's not the actual skills that are so important, but the problem solving techniques that were developed when we had to make something out of nothing.  These creative problem solving skills are hard to develop if one never has a problem and if everything is handed to them.  If we wanted money for extra things, we had to earn it.  I spent many Saturdays cleaning the church (and turning the microphone on singing to my imaginary audience at the pulpit and playing the church organ) or helping my Dad and brothers put a dock in for the rich cottage owners, and raising guinea pigs to sell to the pet store (in hindsight, not as profitable as one might imagine, at one point the guinea pigs lived in a dresser, 13 of them).  My boys have no idea what the concept of money is and how one might earn it (other than asking grandpa) or any concept of struggle or embarrassment. 

Here's a pair of curtains I sewed for my mom for Christmas one year.

I created a photo journal of my last visit to my homestead.  It felt important to document the things that were slowly becoming fuzzy in my memory, the magazine pictures hodgepodged to my bedroom wall, the outhouse, and the carpet covered dock.  I hope to preserve some of my experiences by passing them on the my boys, the stories, the skills and the importance of knowing your roots and bettering yourself.  Time to brainstorm.  Turn off I Carly, we're playing board games tonight.

I challenge you today to reminisce about your kitchen sink and cherish some part of your childhood.  We are the people we are today because of our childhood experiences and quite frankly, I kinda like the person I've become.  How about you?