Spring is a' Comin!

I have the most sure fire way of knowing spring is about to begin. And its is better than that silly groundhog shadow thing. Want to know my secret? Itchy feet. Not literally (I don't have a fungus or anything) but the symbolic kind. As everyone knows, I love new projects. I love planning them, thinking of ways to finish them and ways to convince Doug to let me start them. And this time of year, that excitement grows dramatically. My body has a built in timer that lets it know that winter is almost done and "PING!" spring will arrive any second so I have to be prepared for all the new projects to be done outside. I start sleeping less and daydreaming more. I begin to make sketches of my new ideas like the treehouse I want to build for the girls this summer or the new turkey coop I need to design. I start making random stops to Home Depot to check out prices. And Doug starts getting nervous. Crazy? Ya. But it makes February bearable as I watch spring slowly wake up outside. It is a' comin.. my feet are itching terribly this week.

All this for a Plastic Medal?!

You know, parents can be crazy when it comes to their kids. I am a parent so I understand this from a unique perspective. I am in charge (under protest) of a art program at my daughter's school called Inspirations. Basically, it is a contest once a year where kids send in their "theme" photos, art, film ,etc and I find judges to pick the winners who get a little medal/trophy. Sounds simple, right? Well, it is until parent's egos get involved. Than, the cheating begins. Or the accusation of cheating. Yelling matches insue and screams of "no fair!!!" fill the air. And that is from the adults. The kids? They are delighted with the chance to enter and the party afterwards that all the kids get to go too. Ya--the trophy part is neat, but not worth screaming over..that is unless their mother convinces them it is. Why do we create competition and future hurt when there is none? My daughter had a blast painting her picture and I need to remember THAT is the most important part of the contest. The rest is not worth screaming over. And that trophy would would just be one more thing to dust.

What will the new year bring?

And another year starts. Time does move faster as we get older, doesn't it? 2010 was a busy, unique year; the economy kinda decided to wake up but looks to be sliding back into that drunken stupor of 2009, the government made a lot of outward changes yet really didn't change anything that mattered, and Mother Nature got a bit grumpy at us with weather and earthquakes. What will 2011 brings us? Hopefully, more in the peace and calm department! Personally, I just hope 2011 brings less hospital visits, less raccoons/skunks, and less general chaos. But I probably just jinxed myself. Where's some wood to knock on...

Dentists....Bill Cosby had it right

Went to the dentist today. And I have a question. Why do dentists insist on having a conversation with you while their hand is stuffed in your mouth?! Am I supposed to answer back? Because the whole awkwardness of the situation only grows with this one sided conversation going on. Does the man really care how my kids are doing in school at that moment? Cause I would prefer if the man would shush up and just concentrate on what he is doing with that rather sharp instrument he is jabbing my teeth with. Jeez. But, all went well and I got my bi-yearly lecture on how " Flossing is important and I should be a good example for my kids". I always try real hard not too laugh at how life threatening they make it all sound. No cavities so I don't know why I got the lecture in the first place anyhow. Oh well. I got 6 months free of awkward-dentist-conversations to look forward too!

And I 'm BACK!!!

Wow, people actually read this thing?! I had several unnamed people track me down this holiday season and demanded to know why the heck I never write on this blog anymore. I was just shocked anybody actually followed it! (Which was why I stopped in the first place. I assumed no one was reading this and figured I could just talk to myself at home and accomplish the same end) Sorry folks--I appreciate that anyone WANTS to listen to my ramblings and "adventures".

Today's adventure: new pet. Ya know, I am a sucker for pets. Petsmart has a poster of me hidden in their drawer that alerts them when I walk in that "Yes! This woman will buy anything pet oriented you put in front of her!" I actually have a monthly budget for pets. Not kidding. Anyway, Kyri randomly asked today in the car if she could have a hermit crab someday. "Sure!" I said, "-lets go get one right now! " And TADA! we now have three of the ugly little things crawling around. (Petsmart saw me coming) The girls are tickled, I am unsure at my hastiness and Doug doesn't know yet. Maybe I just won't tell him. But I doubt the girls can keep mum about it; they have yet to keep any of my...um..projects secret.

"Ya wanna a chick with that...(hiccup)"

Chicks, chicks everywhere. You know, I should be part of some group for addiction to buying animals. Maybe AA...Animals Anyomonous. Back in Januray, I talked Doug into agreeing to redo our chickens. Selling the old and getting new ones...better ones. I researched lots of breeds and found just what I wanted---all of the ones I looked at. So, I ordered a little here a little there and POOF! I ended up with too many. Twice this week, I have had 6 am phone calls from grumpy postal workers (never a good thing) who want me to pick a box of ear-piercing cheeping chicks RIGHT NOW. 15 minutes later, I am home, with the box open looking down at over 75 little fur balls and thinking "Oh boy, I'm in trouble". Twice. No--I do not have 150 chicks now because most I sold to others. I only have 40. That sounds much better than 150..right? (This is the tactic I tried with Doug. Didn't work). 40 is a lot. They sounded a lot less on paper. My computer room turned brooder for baby chicks smells and keeps us up at night with the noise. I am constantly checking chicks for bum problems (we won't go into detail here..just trust me), refilling feed containers and making sure Adreana is not throttling one of the little buggers. One week to go until they are all out in the shed until it's warm. Unfortunately, I have 25 more coming Monday. Yikes. Maybe I should just turn myself in to rehab or something.

Sweet and Sour

As many know, one of our 5 year old twins was back in the hospital this week. Not the truck hit one, but the other, Elora. She had the bad luck of having the Strep Virus attack her lungs with pneumonia before deciding to add more chaos in our lives by going after her kidneys . Doug and I noticed something was wrong when the twins suddenly became easy to tell apart. DING! DING! DING! alarms bells went off when we no longer had to ask "Who are you now?" one morning because Elora's face was swelled up like a bee had stung her and her skin was turning a pale yellow. It got more troublesome when she kept throwing up everyday, including a memorable scene in Brick Oven Restaurant in front of a crowd of disgusted teenage waiters. (they spent ten minutes moaning about who had to clean it up. Wimps) We really became panicked when she started to pee colors like cranberry and root beer. But, no worries, after last September, we knew the way to Primary Children's Hospital blindfolded. Three days later, and about 10 thousand dollars, we got to go home again with Elora still peeing colors but no longer feeling sick. Her kidneys would mend. We had dodged another bullet. But I truly knew all was well when I went to tuck the girls in and found Tahlia and Elora curled up side by side in Elora's bed fast asleep. And I couldn't tell who was who once again.