Readjusting

I got a good bit of advice this week from The Amazing Jill. The Amazing Jill is our school secretary. She knows everything. Seriously. You can call her anytime, day or night, ask her any question you can think of and she will give you a brilliant answer. Sometimes she might even be right. We love Jill. Without her the school would come to a screeching halt.

Yesterday Miss T and I got done cleaning our kitchen early so we went up to visit with Jill for a few minutes. She asked what plans we had for the weekend and that lead to our Summer plans. Jill told us that this Summer might be hard on us being our first. "It takes some getting used to. It can be rough, especially the first one." She also told us that if we had projects to tackle to get them done right off the bat. "If you think you'll take a week off before getting your stuff done, the entire break will go by and you won't have accomplished anything. Do it now while you're used to going all day long." I think she's got a point.

Yesterday, being my birthday, I decided I would spend the day lazing around. I did do laundry and picked up a few small messes, but otherwise I crashed on the couch and watched Netflix and Glee reruns all afternoon. The FarmHands played outside until dark and came in filthy and exhausted. My plans for this morning involved sleeping in.

That didn't quite go the way I'd planned.

To me, sleeping in requires a minimum of 2 hours past the time you normally wake up.....or an earliest time of 8:30 (oh how that time has changed since we were first married and I rarely saw 10 am).  I almost made it. 5 days a week for the past 9 months I've been up at 4:45 am. Today I slept until 6:30.  I was really pushing for that 8:30 thing but Buddy Joe and two of the FarmHands had other plans.

Bitsy & #1 Son were in the kitchen and Buddy decided he's been kenneled up long enough. He started barking and my darling, thoughtful children ignored him. Mom had to roll out of bed to let him out before he woke Husband.  I shooed the kids off to their room and crawled back in bed. Apparently they didn't listen and started chatting in the living room because just as I was dozing off, Husband hollered for them to get back in their room.

That was the end of my sleep. The next 30 minutes was spent laying in bed, trying desperately to slip back into something resembling REM sleep. But the harder you try to sleep, the more alert you become. Instead I laid next to a snoring Husband and went through my plans for the day. I'm going to tackle this house.

• Beds will be stripped and sheets hung on the clothesline to dry
• The birdcage will be scrubbed and the parakeets' wings will be clipped
• Surfaces and ceiling fans will be dusted and spiderwebs will be brushed from the ceiling
• Floors will be swept, vacuumed, and or mopped
• Bathrooms will be scrubbed
• The dogs will be groomed, clipped, and bathed and their bedding will be washed
• My room will be emptied of unnecessary junk and re-organized
• Pork chops, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans and rolls will be made for lunch

Well, a girl can dream, can't she.

I often lay in bed wishing my day away in this manner. The reality is normally more like this:

• Spend entirely too much time reading Facebook updates
• Harvest, feed, and plant everything possible in Farmville 2
• Play Candy Crush Saga until I run out of lives
• Peruse Cafemom.com boards until the drama gets to be too much
• Make sure I'm caught up on The Middle and Modern Family
• Do a few word search puzzles
• Toss some laundry in the washer and forget about it for 24 hours
• Chicken nuggets will be dug out of the freezer, tossed on a pan, and fed to the FarmHands around 8:30 tonight

Yeah, I pretty well fail at the Domestic Goddess thing anymore. Maybe if I set the bar lower I won't be so crushed when I fail to reach it.

Maybe I should start off with something like:

• Feed my kids
• Scrub the bathrooms

We'll see how it goes. I'll get back to you. 

Unless something needs fertilizing in Farmville.

Bits and Pieces of the past few weeks

Today I am 37.

That means 40 is just around the corner.

40 is kind of freaking me out.

But things are good. Really good. For today anyway.

A few weeks ago #1 Son came home from school and told me he thought he was ready to be baptized. I told him we'd talk it over with his dad and decide together. After a sit down with #1 Son and Husband we decided he was indeed ready so we pinned down a date. Normally a date wouldn't be a big deal. Normally if someone at our church wanted to be baptized they would simply go forward during the invitation hymn and be baptized immediately after church (we don't have a baptistry so we have to go to another church building to borrow theirs). #1 Son wanted QM and Daddy to be there but Daddy was having shoulder surgery that week.

So on April 28th, #1 Son was baptized into the Lord by his dad while his grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, and even 2 of his teachers watched on. It was a truly awesome day. I have never been so proud of one of my kids and I cannot wait for the day his siblings make their own decisions.

Today was my last day of work for the summer. Yesterday was the last attendance day of school for the kids. I was so looking forward to having the summer off but now, faced with it, I'm a bit sad. I'm going to miss my co-workers, especially Miss T, and the kids. I'm going to miss the hustle and bustle. I'm going to miss having a schedule. I'm sure this will wear off in a few days, but right now I'm a bit down about it.

I came home from work today to a small birthday cake absolutely covered in candles. Husband and the kids had been waiting but I was late getting home so we had to rush through my cake before Husband had to leave for work. It was fun just the same. And my gift is a week in Tennessee at my folks with the FarmHands. It's been years since I've spent more than a night or two there. Bitsy doesn't remember ever having been there. Last time we were there I think she was 2 1/2. That makes me sad. As much as travel and being away from home stresses me out, I cannot wait to go. I really need some time at my mom's house (it's not Daddy's- he only gets his shed- HT's rule, not mine). I really need some time with my parents and siblings and Art. I need some time away from my house. I need for my kids to spend a decent stretch of time with their grandparents. And I'm getting all of that for my birthday!

Because bragging on Facebook isn't enough.

When I was preggers with BabyGirl we decided to get a cheapo Walmart pressed wood bookcase in which to store all her baby paraphernalia. Being 7 months pregnant and hormonal I had a toddler-esque moment of, "I can do it myself!" 30 minutes into the process I discovered I'd put the shelves together backwards and Husband had to come tear it apart and start over.  That was the beginning and end of my dreams of becoming the next Amy Wynn Pastor.

For the past year I've been dreaming of a gianormous bookcase in which to gather all the wayward books that live on The Farm.  My Daddy is going to build me this monstrosity. It's going to be beautiful and crammed full of every bound copy of literature I own. When that happens, the Amish built cabinet that currently houses most of my books will become home to the collection of DVD's that seem to be multiplying of their own accord in the two tiny cabinets in my entertainment center.

Unfortunately my Daddy had shoulder surgery this week and will be out of commision most of the summer. Not really a big deal since I've already waited a year (and haven't bothered to give him the measurements of the case I want him to build). But the DVD situation was getting dire.

Our DVD collection has grown from one small stack in one side of the entertainment center to 8 total rows in  basically a box built for 1 row. They're stacked 2 tall and 2 deep. Without fail, the FarmHands need to watch something on the bottom of the back row every time they're told they can pick out a movie. Every time.

The digging and resulting mess of DVD cases drives me batty!

Today I decided it would come to an end. I bought a second cheapo Walmart pressed wood bookcase this morning and hid it in the back of the van until Husband left for work. I brought it in and assembled it myself (got it right on the first try, I might add) and then realized it was about 3 inches wider than the wall I want it to live on. Crap.

Undaunted I grabbed a tape measure and headed into the boys' room where the original CWPWB (cheapo Walmart Pressed Wood Bookcase) currently resides. Turns out, it fits perfectly in the designated space.

So #1 Son and I switched them out and I filled them up.

 Above is the newly FarmWife assembled CWPWB complete with much more of the boys' collection of books, Legos, and Happy Meal toys than ever fit on the old one (it's amazing what 3 inches of space can do).

And below is the old case newly filled with the majority of the FarmHands' favorite DVD's organized in the only way that can really make me happy: by category.

• Pixar
• Disney
• Muppets
• Dreamworks
• Twilight Saga
• Indiana Jones
• Marvel Heroes (subgroups being X-Men, Spider-Man, and The Avengers)
• Narnia
• Lord of the Rings, etc.

Now, who wants to start off the pot by guessing just how long the two shelves will stay the way Mama wants them to stay? I've got a tenner in for 48 hours.

Pleasantly Surprised

When you bring a new puppy into a home you never know how things will go.  A young puppy can be coddled and easily influenced.  An older pup or a grown dog can be a bit more difficult. Make it a half grown pup who's been in at least 2 previous homes and weighs nearly as much as I do and it could be a rather difficult road to travel.

I knew that when we brought Sadie home.  But I also knew I needed a protector and she needed a real home.

Much to my delight, Sadie is a darling. She loves to lounge on my feet (which can be a bit painful at times), have her belly scratched, and tuck her head under my legs while I sit on the swing. She follows Husband around the yard while he does his chores. She lets Bitsy lay on her and give her hugs. She loves having the FarmHands around to entertain her. She barks at every passing vehicle. She takes her task of guarding us very seriously. She's not at all aggressive but her bark is enough to scare off anyone who wanders up that doesn't belong here.

Husband and I were sitting in the swing today discussing her while she lounged underneath our feet. We are both so happy with how good she is and how gentle she is (I had just spent 20 minutes sitting in the grass with her head in my lap) and why anyone would want to get rid of her. Maybe she didn't house break easily. Maybe living in town and her need to alert you to all traffic was hard to deal with. Maybe having a large dog with a penchant for eating sticks didn't work well indoors. Maybe they weren't prepared for the massive amount of food a large dog can eat. I really don't know.

All I do know is that I'm glad she's come to us.

Why I am happy.

 It didn't take much. Just a little "puppy love."  Meet Sadie (middle name yet to be determined).

No, she's not a Great Dane. To be honest I'm not entirely sure what all she is. We know she's a Mastiff, but what type of Mastiff is yet to be determined. 

I was browsing Craigslist pets on Saturday and she popped up. The post said she was 10 months old, good with kids and other animals but that they didn't have the room for her to run. After a few (thousand) questions from me and an address from her, Husband was off to pick her up.

We don't have much information on her. The lady we got her from had only had her for 3 months. She (#2) got her from a man (#1) who had her a few months and he got her from someone in or near Chicago. #1 claimed she was registered but that he lost her papers when he moved. He said she was a full blooded English Mastiff. The problem there is English Mastiffs are not blue. Sadie is most definitely blue. There is debate on whether or not blue is a very rare recessive gene.

I have no idea why #1 gave her up. #2 said they didn't have room for her to run. So we are her third home (not including the breeder's home) she's been in. She's only 10 months old. That makes me sad.

Sadie is such a sweet girl. I was a bit worried that she would be hard to handle or have behavioral problems from being shuffled around so much, but that is not the case at all. She sits, lays, and shakes on command. She comes when called and we've been working with her walking on a leash. The first day holding her on the leash was a struggle but that had more to do with new surroundings and wanting to explore than with actually pulling on the leash. Today she did a great job on her leash.

She barks at cars that come up the drive and new people who wander up (which is exactly what I want) but settles down as soon as the car is parked or the person is obviously supposed to be here (again, exactly what I want). She spend most of the afternoon laying on my feet in the yard or rolling over to have her belly scratched. She let the kids love all over her and with the exception of a few excited jumps as soon as they ran to her after the bus, she followed them around and watched them play.

I think I'll sleep better now knowing we have a four legged protector again. I only hope QM learns to love her (I promise, Mom, she's not all slobbery and icky). 

Me (yes, that's really me) trying to get Miss Sadie to stand up so we could see how tall she is. She was tired and just wanted the treat that's in my hand so she could lay back down and be lazy.

Why I'm sad.

As many of you already know, we lost Bonpas (our Great Dane) the week before Thanksgiving. I miss her tremendously. She was such a loving and protective friend to all of us. Her death broke my heart.

Husband immediately started looking for another Dane for me. In the meantime his cousin had a litter of Huskies and we decided to bring the only girl home with us. Sasha is full sister to our Misha and the two get along perfectly. She's a poly, playfull little thing and I adore her but there's still a giant floppy eared hole in my heart.

I miss being a leaning post for a dog that weighs as much as I do. I miss having a long body stretched out in front of the back door every night. I miss knowing that even though Danes are notorious for being big babies that she was intimidating to strangers and therefore kept us safe from unwanted company.

The QM came to stay with the FarmHands when Art and I went to the wedding last month. When I came home she said, "You need to get another Great Dane. I couldn't sleep without Bonpas sitting on the back steps." I should point out that I'm pretty sure QM rolls her eyes every time we get a new pet. But she's with me on this one.

I've even named my next girl. She'll be Harlow after Jean Harlow. It struck me one day and I knew it was the perfect name for a leggy girl even if she's not a platinum blonde.

A few weeks ago I saw an ad for Dane/Standard Poodle pups. The idea intrigued me and the pictures I found were too cute for words. The only problem was the breeder wanted $300 to $800 for her pups. I'm sorry, but I'm not spending $800 on what is technically a mutt.

Yesterday Husband checked local Craigslist and found a beautiful black and white girl who was half Dane half poodle for $150. I emailed the owner immediately only to find out we were too late. Someone was coming after her in just a few hours. The post had only been up 45 minutes. I left my name and number with the owner in case the people never showed or changed their mind, but I was out of luck.

I've been bummed about it ever since. Miss T at work tells me that just means my dog is still out there somewhere. I hope she's right.

And we even looked like grown ups.

Have you ever had The Best Weekend Ever? I have. But I'm cool like that. Don't beat yourself up if you haven't. Not everyone can be quite as cool as I am. Art can. But then no one is quite as cool as Art. Not even me.

Years and years and eons ago I went away to college. There I met some really awesome people. Then I decided not to return to that college the next year and within a year I had lost touch with the majority of the people I'd met and loved.

One person in particular stayed in my extended circle a bit longer than most of the others. His name will hence forth be Lane. Lane and I continued to talk on the phone on and off the summer after I left. To be entirely truthful my efforts to keep in touch with him stemmed from a bit of an unrequited crush. He and Art began talking and after many years, many conversations, and a few bumps in the rocky road of life became very close friends.

Unfortunately life gets in the way. Neither Art nor I had seen Lane in 17 years. And then he was engaged. And we both got invites. Perfect gifts were hunted. Perfect dresses laid out. Hours were spent on shoes and hair and foundational undergarments (if you do not understand the importance then you most definitely are male) and nail colors and trip arrangements and hotel reservations and child care arrangements.

Last weekend found Art and I fully dressed and made up in our very best in a hotel room 14 floors from the maze of streets that is down town Springfield, IL staring at each other with the sudden realization that we were about to lay eyes on Lane for the first time in 17 years. Not only that, but there was a decent chance I would see others I'd known "back in the day" and having never been to a class reunion, I wasn't sure how to deal with that possibility.

At one point Art said, "Do you think the bride is this nervous?" It was a good question. I had no answer.

Up to that point the day (and evening prior) had been packed full of hysterical laughter, random singing, car dancing, long conversations, driving, pictures outside The Circle K, and my brief but thorough check under the hotel beds for dead prostitutes (one can never be too careful).  As we wove our way to the wedding venue we were jittery. Much too jittery for a wedding that was not our own.

After a very brief ride in a parking garage elevator where I'm 99% sure someone had recently lived for an extended period of time....or had recently died...we found ourselves bravely trodding down the street pretending we do this every day.

Moments later it was all over. Lane was there. We were there. Hugs had been shared by all. And it was perfect. There was no weirdness. There was no awkwardness. It was just Lane and Art and Farmie chatting and waiting for the former to get married.

The wedding was lovely. Lovely is the perfect word for it. The groom looked like he was about to sprint down the aisle to hurry the procession along. The bride was stunning and sweet and looked like something out of a book on how to get married.

You know that amazing brooch bouquet everyone's been drooling over on Pinterest for the past 2 years? Yeah, she carried one of those. One she made. From brooches belonging to Lane's much loved and recently deceased grandmother.

Art had predicted many tears but I was self assured that I would not cry. Art was right. I was wrong. The bride and groom took communion together after saying their vows and exchanging rings and that's when I fell apart.  Technically I held it together until Lane lowered his head and prayed with his bride. After that it was all over for me.

And then, then it was time for the reception. Art and I had decided that if we were uncomfortable or bored or if things got weird we would duck out gracefully and spend the night hanging out in our pajamas instead.

Yeah, that didn't happen.

In fact, we were still there when the lights came on. We were there when the cater waiters cleared away all the dishes. We were there when Lane packed up his collection of vintage cameras that served as centerpieces. We were there when they took the table cloths off the tables.  I'm pretty sure we were 15 minutes from being bodily removed by the wait staff.

There were a total of 3 people there I knew other than the groom and one more I think I may have met in passing 18 years ago. By the time we got back to the hotel that night my face hurt from laughing. Old friends and their "new" wives were the perfect antidote to my tired-mom-ness. The only thing I truly wished for was that the night could have gone on a few more hours.

And my amazing Art never missed a beat. She injected herself into the midst of the reminiscing and laughter and arguments just as she always does. It didn't matter that she hadn't gone to college with the rest of us. It didn't matter that she had almost no history with these people. She loved them and in return they loved her. But then who wouldn't love Art? She's amazing (I may have mentioned that).

Last weekend was exactly what I needed. I'd take a few more like it if they were offered. And the best part of it all was that I got to spend 28 uninterrupted hours with my very best of friends. I'd take that every day.

Plus, I ate a bacon cupcake. Yup. Bacon. And it was good.