Where did Kelly go?

Miss me?  Oh, I have missed you too.  I was lost in a sea of reality.  How real you may ask?  Well, let me tell you!  I was lost in that reality that exists OUTSIDE of your computer.  Yes, my dear friends, I was offline.  Did you know that real people live in the same house as me.  I know, right?  How weird is that?  I figured all I needed was on the Internet, friends, shopping and TV shows.  I didn't know that a whole new world was right at my finger tips.

OK, maybe I am being a little dramatic.  But, WOW.  The world is kinda cool when you unplug.  So why did I unplug.  Not on purpose, I tell you.  My computer coughed, hacked and breathed its last.  I really didn't want to buy a new computer.  I was perfectly willing to share Farmer Ted's computer with Farmer Ted.  He didn't like that.  So, I have a new computer.  It's blue.  The End.

That's what Sunday is for...

A really hard concept to grasp it the idea of taking a day off.  As westerners, the “Sabbath” is a dying practice.  There is too much to do, yards to mow, grocery shopping, laundry, even a job.    I have tried in the past to implement the “no work” idea off and on for several years, and believe me, I like to lay around.  Some may even call me lazy.  But, boy o boy, is it hard to take Sunday off.  Today I woke with a list in my head.  Canning salsa, plan my curriculum, clean the nuclear disaster that is my kids room.  Oh, yeah, and grocery shop.  Then I went to mass.  And then I went to coffee hour at the church.  (More of you need to take advantage of this time of fellowship, I mean, its DONUTS people!)  And I thought, forget it, it is Sunday.  My blood pressure rose, and I had to tell myself to relax.  I mean, the house is not going to crumble if I don’t can salsa.   And I relaxed.  Really relaxed.  And realized, we all need a day off.  Read a good book, bake cookies, eat ice cream, play a board game.  Have a conversation with your teen.  Make a little effort, and then make a bigger effort.  Time flies, and then you will wonder why you didn’t take that walk, or played horse shoes.  And don’t forget to thank the Lord for every little smile, every delicious bite of cookies, and feel your spirits soar.  Because, ladies and gentleman, that is what Sunday is for…

 

 

 

Throw out the new, bring in the old...

My husband sold my bookshelf.  On Craigslist.  Without telling me.  I realized this when a strange woman was in my dining room, ooohing and ahhhing over my book case.

 

Me:  Honey, who is this strange lady?

Farmer Ted:   The woman who is buying the bookcase.

Me:  Why is she buying my bookcase?

Farmer Ted:  Cuz I put it on Craigslist.

Me:  Why?

Farmer Ted:  It was part of a set.

Oh.

You see, he had a desk in his office, that matched my bookcase.  (Insert big head slap here.)  Duh.

So, Farmer Ted, sold my bookcase.

 That housed my books. 

And piles of unimportant stuff. 

And a dust bunny named Steve.

And so, I told him, in my sternest voice, that I would be taking his loot, and buying, get this, a BOOKCASE.  So with loot in hand, I went to the local antique market, and purchased another bookshelf/cabinet/super cute, old rickety thing, for 3X the amount he sold my bookcase for. 

SO THERE. 

That will teach him to sell my stuff.

Hmmm….not that I am complaining.

I am hoping he sells my living room furniture next…

I saw a really cute chair at the antique mall…a little out of my price range…but…

 

 

 

 

 

English as a Second Language

My mom lives with us.  My mom, at any given time has a stash or Oreos, Pringles and Peanut M&M’s.  We have tried to cure her of this insanity, but have learned to back off.  Possibly because she will disinherit me if I toss the stash.  But that is neither here nor there. 

This is a story about Oreos.

My children see the Oreos as something they deserve for a job well done.

“Grandma, I peed in the potty and not in your garden!  Can I have an Oreo?”

You get the picture.

So,  Boo some how finagled some Oreos from Grandma today, and being the kind, sweet boy he is asked if he could take some to his brother Greg.  (Secretly he was hoping to get another Oreo.  “Grandma!  I shared YOUR Oreos with Greg, can I have another?”)  What Grandma didn’t know was at that moment, Greg was in the bathroom.  So Boo slid the cookies under the door.  Into the bathroom.  A bathroom where 4 boys do what boys do.  Daily.  Do you understand what I am telling you?  THE COOKIES WERE ON THE BATHROOM FLOOR.  And, brace yourself….Greg ate them.  Take a moment.  I am sure you need to compose yourself.

This brings me to another subject…germs.  And germ warfare.  Specifically, flu vaccines.  Did I mention that my mom is a nurse?  She, after hearing about the cookies on the floor fiasco, quickly dialed the vaccine hotline and made her appointment to combat germs that may be present in our house, on our floor, in HER Oreo cookies.  Actually, in a calm voice, she mentioned that it may be time for her vaccine.

I pointed out, that my family doesn’t get the vaccine, and we tend to be healthy.  (Of course we are healthy, we eat our germs off the floor, disguised as Oreos) 

Boo, remembering that Grandma was a nurse, and gave other people shots.  So he asked her,

“Grandma, why don’t you just shoot yourself!”

 

And, that my friends, is the story of the Oreo.  Anyone wanna come over for cookies and milk?

 

 

 

 

The Bed...

Our bed squeaks.

 

Whoa!  Wait!  What?

 

Not what you think.  Farmer Ted and I went away on a vacation and came back to a squeaky bed.  It didn’t squeak, and now it does squeak. 

Bad.

 Let me tell you about our bed.  The only TV in our house is in our bedroom.  (Farmer Ted hates this, but I think it is more ugly in the living room)  So, because of this little tidbit, our bedroom has heavy traffic.  Our kids bounce on the bed, read on the bed, play with wee little army men on the bed (that I find under my pillow) and watch TV in our bed.  Basically, our bed has more going on than any other room or piece of furniture in our home.   I have no idea what our kids did while we were gone, but now our bed squeaks. 

You sit on it, it squeaks.  You cough, squeak.  You get the idea.  It wakes me all night.  Squeak, squeak, SQUEAK! 

So finally, I mentioned to my husband, that maybe he could remove the mattress, and tighten the screws to hopefully fix the squeak.  Then I made a tactical error.  I looked for something under my bed.  And realized the horror and carnage that resided under my bed.  And if Farmer Ted removed the mattress, he would not replace the mattress until I cleaned under the bed.  I don’t have time to clean under my bed.  So, I have decided that a squeak isn’t so bad.

 

 

 

Call me Crazy

St. Anna    Mother Teresa    St. Clare

 

My niece turns 2 tomorrow.  I painted her these little dolls.  (I am not creative, I took someone else’s idea, and am going to pass it off as my own, shhh)  Any how, a few days ago, my niece came over to my house and started to play with the unpainted pegs.  So I decide to do something very Catholic, and painted holy women for her to play with.  Of course, she will only care that they are cool pegs.  As women,  I think it is important to introduce our daughters to strong faithful women who do small things in extraordinary ways.  Sigh,  too bad I don’t have a daughter.  I guess I will just have to borrow my niece.

 

BTW, I am aware that the picture quality is terrible.  Note to self, don’t take pictures of little things at night.

 

 

 

 

 

Homeschooling, week 1

Well, just finished up our first week of homeschooling, 2010.  Are they any smarter than they were a week ago?  Nope.  We are still trying to catch up.  Who knew that 7 and 10 year old brain cells died.

 

Just kidding.  They did great.  We are doing our plans different this year, now that Gus went off to a “real school”.  I feel a burden has been lifted, in the sense that we can do more small kid stuff.  Sing silly songs, do some crazy chicken dance and make complete fools of ourselves.  Not that we couldn’t do it with Gus around.  But the little guys want to be like Gus.  Literally.  They want to be 14.  With mustaches.  Ok, I am kidding about the mustache.  But it is hard to be cool when you are doing the “ loob dee loo” in front of your infinitely cooler older brother.