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.

Why Alanis Doesn't Suck No Matter What Art May Tell You

Here's the story. Art and I were living in a tiny (400 square feet, maybe?) apartment stuck to the back of her parents' basement. It was 1995 and we were 19 year old girls. That means we were required by law to listen to women whine to an instrumental accompaniment. While there were many such CDs to choose from I was inexplicably drawn to Alanis Morrisette's Jagged Little Pill. I played it all the time. All. The. Time. 3 am? Sure. 7 am? Sure. 10:30 pm? Sure. While Art was sleeping in the adjoining room? Sure. I was all about Jagged Little Pill.

Art took a bit of a different path and put Pearl Jam's Nothing Man on repeat for a full month. It was sandwiched between long bouts of Counting Crows August and Everything After. Neither one of which I mind listening to now. But for some reason Art has a deeply ingrained aversion to Alanis's brand of whine.

Flash forward a few years and I was newly entrenched in Southern Illinois and dating a FarmBoy.  I was a bit of a mess. My previous relationship had left me pretty seriously damaged. FarmBoy was ridiculously patient with me. I tried to keep my distance and put up some pretty tall walls. Luckily he's a good climber. I'd push and he'd let me. I'd keep him at arms length and he'd stay there until I wasn't looking. Then he'd scoot a little closer. He was very clear about his feelings very early on. I was ambiguous for months. He was kind. He was steadfast. He didn't give up and wasn't easily dissuaded by the hot mess I was.

 I had pretty deep feelings for him but wasn't willing or able to state them on my own so I turned to music. Oh, how I miss the days of the mix-tape.  The one I made FarmBoy was called "The Yucky Love Stuff." I'm pretty sure it still lives in a kitchen cabinet somewhere around here. The first song on it was Alanis's Head Over Feet.

I had no choice but to hear you
You stated your case time and again
I thought about it

You treat me like I'm a princess
I'm not used to liking that
You ask how my day was

Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole
You're so much braver than I gave you credit for
That's not lip service

You are the bearer of unconditional things
You held your breath and the door for me
Thanks for your patience

You're the best listener that I've ever met
You're my best friend
Best friend with benefits
What took me so long

I've never felt this healthy before
I've never wanted something rational
I am aware now
I am aware now

You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault

That pretty well summed up what was going on with us, especially that line in red. It became "our song" almost instantly. 

And that is why Alanis doesn't suck no matter what Art may say.

Updated: It has been pointed out to me that Art has a completely legitimate reason to hate this song. I will not share the reason but I will say that she is fully in her rights to detest this song and were I here I would also hate it. But I am not her so I still love it in spite of a particularly crappy circumstance. 

The weekend of Art (and TMI)

Art came to see me this weekend.  At first the trip was to be a surprise, but she gave up on that idea very early on in the game.

I was so excited to have her coming...and then Thursday hit.  I ended up sick.  Without going into gory details, I was having stomach issues.  I figured it was no big deal.  She wouldn't be here until Friday night & I'd be all better by then.

Well, I wasn't.  Friday afternoon rolled around & I opted to take an Imodium AD thinking it would take care of the problem & I'd be good to go for the weekend.  It took care of one problem, but seemed to lead to a whole mess of other issues.

I was in pain.  A lot of pain.  Like pre-appendectomy pain.  Saturday, Art convinced me that I needed to go to the doctor.  Unfortunately we made it to town a little late & ended up in the ER instead of the walk-in clinic.

3 hours later they sent me home saying there was no infection so my pain was probably related to my surgery (that happened a  month and a half ago....that hasn't caused me pain of any kind in weeks).  They gave me a shot of Torodol that wore off before we ever left the hospital.

Saturday was spent laying on the couch- hurting.

Sunday was spent laying on the couch - hurting.  Sunday morning, when I found myself unable to pee, I called the hospital and made them page my surgeon.  He was off on vacation and had a house full of people. But he told me he wanted me on clear liquids for the rest of the day (by this time the only thing I'd eaten in nearly 24 hours was 1/2 an order of McDonalds fries on Saturday afternoon- yes, the pinnacle of heath, but it was the only thing that sounded remotely appetizing and I was starved).  He said it sounded like I either had a stomach bug and had blocked everything off taking the Imodium or I have scar tissue adhesion from my surgery that has caused a bowl blockage.  Either way, he said the best way to go was clear liquids and wait to see if things being working on their own.  If I was still in pain, he wanted to see me in his office this afternoon.

They're going to work me in at 3.

The QM says that when I get better I owe Art a visit in Tennessee to make up for the failed visit here.  I think that's a splendid idea....or I would if I thought anything was splendid right now.  It's hard to see the bright side when your stomach hurts like that chick who had an alien pop out of hers.  I'm so glad Art was here.  I only wish things could have been, "Way funner," to quote Elle Woods.

How long does it take to recover from vacation?

More than three days, apparently.

I am flat worn out, and my vacation was 10 hours of driving and a full day less than Art's. I don't know how she's functioning. She really is amazing.

I am so glad we went, even if I didn't get much sleep. My toe nails still look fabulous after our trip to the nail salon (note to future manicurists: if you act like you're doing me a huge favor by allowing me to pay you to massage my feet, you can pretty well kiss your tip good bye....and if you get up and walk away from my friend after starting hers first, you will definitely miss out on a good tip. You may very well be in the wrong profession. You kind of have to be a people person to make a living as a manicurist....I'm just sayin'.), I have a small stack of books to keep me busy when I finish the book I'm currently on thanks to an awesome resale shop Diana took us to, and I have SNL skits stuck in my head after hours of watching them on Hulu with the girls.

But most of all, I got to spend hours talking to & laughing with Art on the first road trip we've taken together in years. I got to laugh and cry and laugh some more with Diana as she told us what a wonderful man her Justin was. I am amazed at her ability to share her feelings no matter how raw they may be. Most people, six months after the loss of a loved one would answer with a generic, "I'm fine," when asked how they are doing. Diana will tell you she's fine if she is at the moment. She'll tell you otherwise if she is otherwise at the moment. We could all be in tears one moment and laughing out heads off the next.

On the way to Diana's, Art and I stopped by Grandma & Grandpa M&M's house. This coming weekend they are moving into an assisted living apartment. That means a massive downsizing of their belongings. QM, Aunt Silverbell, and Inkling's mother had been working on packing and sorting their belongings all week. It's was really hard to see their lives and belongings reduced to what will fit in a 700 square foot apartment, but on the same hand I'm also glad things are happening the way they are.

Grandma and Grandpa will be somewhere where they will have the help they need when they need it. We don't have to worry about Grandpa falling and Grandma not being able to get him up or him having to lay and wait for someone to get to the house to help. I love the fact that Grandma and Grandpa are still here. That we are not dividing up their possessions because we've lost them. I love that they will know that the things they've worked so hard for and held so precious will be loved and cared for by those that love them.

It's been a hard week, but the blessings have far outweighed the costs.

What exactly is my damage?

I woke up at five thirty Friday morning, anxious to get on the road. Anxious to spend the day with Art. Anxious to get to my Grandma M&M's house. Anxious to see Diana. None of this anxiety was truly a bad thing. Maybe anxiety is the wrong word. Excited? Stoked? I'm not sure. But regardless of what you want to call it, I wanted to get going.

It's now shortly after four in the morning and I'm sitting in Diana's dark living room blogging after having soaked in a hot bath for about thirty minutes. I cannot sleep. I haven't really slept. A little light dozing here and there, but nothing truly substantial. Honestly, I'm a bit worried about how I'm going to function when daylight hours arrive. And no, I did not take another Bi-Polar in a bottle. I learned my lesson the last time.

It's not my accommodations. I just do not sleep well in new environments. Add stomach issues due to travel, stress, emotional overload, and feminine issues, and I'm a hot mess at four twenty am.

I'm really having a great time. Art & I made a stop at our favorite local coffee shop. We ran to Wally World for supplies. We cranked up the tunes and eased on down the road. There was a brief (but much needed) visit with Grandma & Grandpa M&M at their house and then we got to the land of DuckI (as we called Diana in high school).

Chinese for dinner. Mani-Pedi's for dessert. A quick browse through Barns & Noble, then back here to visit some more and laugh until we nearly peed our pants at odd SNL skits on Hulu. We finally gave up & turned in a little after one thirty.

I'm not sure how long I laid there praying for sleep to come before I gave up & headed to the bath (thank goodness it's at the opposite end of the house from the guest room Art & I are sharing and downstairs from Diana's room). Even a giant book of Dilbert comics couldn't lull me into a state of relaxation.

I just want to sleep. Is that too much to ask?

One night in nine years when I do not have a child to take care of and I can't unwind enough to enjoy the big bed Art and I have to laze about in.

Sleep, you fickle wench. Why have you deserted me? Don't even think about trying to needle your way back into my affections tomorrow. By then my break will be over and I shall have to return to the world of mothering where you are a second class citizen, only allowed to show your face when there is nothing else to occupy my time.

(A brief note on the title: "Damage" was my favorite early 90's slang that never really caught on. I first heard it used in the movie Buffy the Vampire Slayer & have been forever saddened by it's fall to the wayside.)

The Fun is Coming

You may remember earlier in the year when I asked you to be praying for my friend Diana and her husband Justin. Justin died after suffering serious complications from a surgery. Diana is a pre-k teacher and soon after Justin's death, she was told she wouldn't have a job this year. To say she's had a rough year would be the understatement of that particular year.

Art and I have been trying to arrange our schedules so the two of us could travel up to see Diana since February or March. Finally, here near the end of June, we're making the trip. We're driving up Friday and coming back to my neck of the woods on Saturday. I know parts of this trip will be hard. Diana is hurting. We hurt for her. But we are going to do and be what ever she might need. Please pray for us in that.

That being said, I am crazy excited about this weekend. Art and I get to spend hours in the car together and that normally involves hours of laughing and singing and being silly. Once we get to Diana's, I know there will be even more laughing and silliness. As Truvy would say, "Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion." I fully expect that. And I fully expect feeling like I've done 10,000 sit ups by the time we get home Saturday night. That's how I always feel after spending the day laughing with (and at) Art.

And to top it all off, this is my first real night away from the kids. I've been away from up to three of them at a time taking B.B. to The STL for his surgery last spring and taking QM home to TN when Daddy was in the hospital last summer. But I have never been away from all four children at once for "frivolous" reasons. To answer your question, No, I am not going to spend any time moping and crying because I miss my children. I love them, but a break is long past due.

QM is coming here to hold down the fort in my absence. Husband and I were discussing sleeping arrangements. We do not have a guest room. We do not have any extra beds. We are not really equipped for overnight guests. QM will be taking BabyGirl's bed in the room the girl's share. BabyGirl will be sleeping in my bed with her dad. Bitsy isn't happy with this arrangements. She thinks her Grammy should sleep in Mommy's bed where Mommy sleeps.....with Daddy. Daddy and Grammy disagree.

I can't imagine why.

She's so fashion.

Art's niece is a clothing junkie. She loves getting new clothes & cries when it's time to pass them down. I love that she's the same age as HT, so pieces of her fabulous wardrobe gets passed down to Bitsy.

When Art's niece gets dressed up, she declares, "I am so fashion." I love it.

Bitsy has hit that horrible stage that all children go through when they're not quite big enough for the next size up, but too big for the size they've most recently been in. Bitsy's walking the fine line between 2T and 3T. That means her drawers are overflowing with a collection of both sizes.

Today was the official, get out the giant tubs of clothes handed down from BabyGirl & sort them out for Bitsy's use day. I hate these days. They always feel so daunting. I think I'm going to have to spend hours & hours & hours surrounded by clothes of every shape, size, and season while I sneeze uncontrollably & chase children & dogs out of the room.

In reality, it only took about an hour & turned out to be fun. I'd forgotten all the clothing BabyGirl had that she rarely wore. Now Bitsy can remedy that. The red t-shirt dress with black polka-dots & ladybug buttons bought by Grammy that says 4T but fits like a 3T will finally get worn out of the house. The My Little Pony tank top & shorts sent up by Princess will be truly loved. And pajamas....ahhhh, the pajamas. BabyGirl did wear them quite a bit, but Bitsy's little eyes lit up like the Fourth of July when she saw the "new" night gown she got to wear to bed tonight.

She is so fashion.

Our Mini-Mafia

Once upon a time, the Queen Mother told people that some day I would be president, Bubba would be my Secretary of Defense, and Princess would be a terrorist. Today the Daring Young Mom wrote about the First Grade Terror Alert Laylee may be apart of.

I've often told people that my children could be their very own mafia. Art & I used to discuss strategy for our kids' "family" (like the Sopranos are a family). Since my children were born in the same order as Art's (up to Bitsy), they are scarily similar in personality.

Long ago we decided that Syd & BabyGirl would be the Dons of the family. Both are mother hens who live to tell their younger brothers what to do.

#1 Son and Lu-lu will be the "legit" members of the family. One will be the accountant & the other will be the lawyer...in the movies they're always the ones that pretend everything is on the up & up. They're the brains of the operations.

Next comes B.B. & Mr.C.A. They will undoubtedly be the brawns of the operation. Breaking knee caps, tossing folks in the river wearing a pair of cement shoes, and generally bulling every one into submission is their calling in life.

That only leaves Bitsy. I'm convinced she's destined to be the family darling....think Marisa Tomei in Oscar....the spoiled, pampered, romantic, dreamer.

Hopefully they'll all have the decency to care for Art & I in our old age. We'll be the grandmothers dressed in black, clutching our rosaries, wearing our furs in the summer and waving our canes at the dozens of kids running around on the lawn after Sunday Mass. No, wait, we're not Catholic. Maybe we'll convert.

Syd & Nancy BabyGirl

My phone rang shortly after nine last night. It was Art. "Our daughters are having a sleep over tonight!" That is so awesome! BabyGirl's never had a sleep over with a friend before & the idea that her first one is with my best friend's daughter makes my day.

Art said they skipped right over the shyness & went straight to cheerleading. Art's Syd is a full blown, competitive cheerleader & is really good at it. BabyGirl went to cheer camp last fall at school. I was pretty sure they'd both jump on that commonality very quickly.

I've heard they nicknamed themselves "The Cheer Girls" and were teaching each other routines & preforming for Art & The Queen Mother. Lu-Lu, Syd's oldest boy, was planning on being chased a bit by BabyGirl (something they did when he was up here visiting a few years back), but I fear he may have been ignored because of the novelty of his sister.

If the girls behave themselves, they're spending the day together & QM will take them over to Art's today so BabyGirl can play at Syd's house.

Oh to be a fly on the wall in that bedroom last night.....

Warning: TMI. Gonna' talk periods here, folks. Consider yourselves warned.

I've been having a tough time the last few days. I touched on it a bit yesterday. I've never suffered horribly from PMS...at least not that I've noticed. I'd get a bit moody each month. I'd get a little tired. I'd have a few cramps easily treated with Tylenol. And then I had kids.

In between BabyGirl & #1 Son, I only had 5 periods. In between #1 Son & B.B. I had none (yeah, you read that right). After #1 Son was born, I cycled for a full year before Bitsy came along. Bitsy was a few days shy of her first birthday when I started again. Since then things have been...odd.

Cramps that can lay me out flat on the couch for at least two or three days at a time. Back aches that make walking painful. Bone tired weariness. And mood swings that never, ever make an up swing. If I could take a bottle of Aleve, a heating pad, and a big book & lock myself in my room for a week, I would. And I'm pretty sure my family would support the decision.

Last night I was Googling PMS symptoms. Husband asked what I was reading & I told him. I said, "Mood swings & can deal with. But I'm angry for 4 or 5 days. Irate really." Husband said, "Yeah," as though I hadn't told him anything he didn't already know. Smart man not bringing it up....ever. That may have been grounds for full blown, nuclear meltdown.

A week from Wednesday I go see my OB for my yearly check up (that's way overdue). I need to start making my list of things to discuss with him. This cannot go on. Someone will not survive.

And I fear that BabyGirl's hormones are swinging right along with mine. She has been bossy, angry, & unbearable since Friday. I'm currently scared witless of Summer break. If she's like this all Summer, it's going to be HORRIBLE. I hate thinking that, but that's the way things stand right now.

In non-menstrual related news: I'm really hoping Art can hitch a ride with my folks this weekend. I really need some time with grown ups I see rarely & love dearly.

I'm endeavoring to use my clothes line more this summer. The rumors of major increases in the cost of electricity is enough to get Husband on board. He's restrung my clothes line & secured the wiggly post that was leaving my sheets to the mercy of wandering cats. Last summer, it was rarely used. This summer I plan on keeping it full.

Husband picked up a new humming bird feeder for me Friday. I had read that a perch on a feeder is a very good thing for the birds. They expend so much energy hovering, that they have to eat more just to have energy enough to eat! Husband remembered me saying that & hunted one up for me. The humming birds seem to love it. I had three buzzing around it this morning.

You may have noticed a new feature at the bottom of my posts. It's called LinkWithin. I saw it on Sarah's Ordinary Days blog & really loved it. It hunts through the archives & links back to long forgotten posts. I've already revisited some things I really needed to hear, things that made me smile, and things that nearly brought a tear to my eye. Click away & enjoy. I am.

We will now return you to your regularly scheduled blogging.

It has hit with a vengance. The after-company-blahs. Sunday I was kept hopping & busy most of the day with church, a family dinner, a few Blu-rays from Netflix, and a giant Carmel milkshake lovingly crafted by my darling husband.

Today? Meh. First off was the evil time change that leaves me feeling as though none of us has come close to enough sleep. Then was the back-to-school Monday morning madness that infects us once a week. Toss in skin that has reverted back to high school, enough laundry to fill every machine at the Sudsy-Dudsy, two full loads of dishes in the dish washer, and an exceptional amount of saw dust on my carpet, and it was all enough to make me spend the day facebooking, watching Wall-E repeatedly with the babies, napping in the recliner, and lounging about in my jammies until...oh...say, now. I have much to do & zero gumption. I truly believe there has never been a greater lack of gumption displayed in the Northern Hemisphere in the past 30 years.

I am missing Art & Did in a bad way. I'm wishing I could have stowed away in the back seat of Did's Toyota & spent the morning & early afternoon chatting with them & Ragged Around the Edges yesterday. I'm dreaming of a time when we can all get together again. I'm trying to decide if Did's hubby could be talked into moving up here when he starts his law practice. Add a healthy dollop of worry about Inkling's health & the surgery she is going to have today & I'm a hot mess.

I am officially homesick. Yes, yes, I know I am at home. I have finally come to terms with the fact that I, FarmWife, will spend the remainder of my years in a small ranch style house in the middle of no where. But home will always be where my Mama & Daddy are & that's where I want to be today.

I'm going to keep my chin up though. QM has adamantly, vemenantly, militantly declared she will be bringing HT (my nephew, Princess's son) to Busha's for Easter along with (and I quote) "Thirty dollars worth of chocolate & enough eggs to keep them busy all afternoon." I'm pretty sure she's bringing Princess & Daddy with her, but when I talked to her last week she didn't much care who else decided to hop in her HHR & make the trek. She & HT are coming if she has to lie, steal, cheat or kill. QM hasn't been up to see us since Thanksgiving, I haven't seen my nephew since last September, & we haven't been to Tennessee in far too long.

All I can say is, I need a little Easter, right this very minute.....maybe I'll just walk around in my new shoes for a bit & see if that helps.

(Pay no attention to the twig-like ankles sprouting from the super cute, four inch heels. They cannot be helped.)

Day Two: Even Better!!

Yesterday, Art & Did picked me up at nine & we headed North to meet Ducky for lunch. It was a 2 1/2 hour drive to get to the restaurant & we spent the entire trip singing, laughing, and talking about everything under the sun. Right now I couldn't tell you about 75% of what was said, but I do know we had a blast!

One odd thing: As we were coming out of the gas station parking lot in a town about half-way to our destination (the same town where QM & Daddy pulled the bumper off the HHR last summer), I saw a woman pulling into the gas station across the street from us. It was Husband's Aunt M. She lives very near to where we were meeting Ducky. She was on her way down here for the weekend as we were on our way to her neck of the woods.

We met Ducky at Cheddars (pretty good food, I must say) and we all settled in for a good long visit. I'm thinking we camped out in that booth for about 2 1/2 hours. I do feel bad for any patrons seated near us. We all hadn't been in the same place for more than 2 years, and before that it had probably been 10 years or so. We were pretty loud & I think we may have scared our poor waiter. We dubbed him The Davinator & left him a nice note, a big tip, and odds & ends from our purses (a Kroger's coupon, 2 ink pens, & a pack of gum). I'm pretty sure he'd never want us to come back.

After that we headed across the road to The Promised Land (no, Pilot, not Kentucky): Target. I love Target but never get to go because our closest one is over an hour away. I was on the hunt for new black dress shoes. After jaunts through the dollar bins, purses, hats (I can really rock the fedoras they carry. Really! I should have picked one up....oh well), lingerie, and sleepwear, we reached the shoe department. I'm pretty sure I tried on every single pair of black dress shoes they had. Eventually I ended up with a super-cute pair of black heels with contrasting stitching & a substantial heel for $4.95 & an adorable black flat for $16. Gotta' love Target!! I'd have come home with some snake skin platform pumps, but they weren't marked down quite low enough. I'll post pictures another time. Art ended up with pumps just like mine in a light brown/dark tan...so cute!! And Did picked up a clear plastic bubble umbrella with hot pink trim!

At Target we said goodbye to Ducky & headed back south. About halfway home Art & Did decided they wanted to stop at O.C. before we got home. We decided to call Needlefingers & see if she wanted to meet us there. Needlefingers & Did broke out their knitting & we all laughed & talked & had a wonderful time. I think we spent another hour & a half to 2 hours at O.C. before I hit the wall & we had to come home.

When we pulled up in our drive way, the house was completely dark. It was a little after nine (12 hours away from home with no children! This was a first!!) and I was shocked. I couldn't believe Husband was in bed all ready. I was surprised to find the back door unlocked, but opened it & headed in with Did right behind me. Suddenly BabyGirl jumped out from behind the pantry wall & hollered, "Hi Mom!" I nearly fell over & she collapsed in a pile of giggles. Husband came out laughing....he'd planned it all.

We sat in the living room for another hour our so talking & laughing & telling Husband about our day, then the girls had to head back to Busha's to get some rest. Today they're headed South to the other Promised Land to meet up with Ragged Around the Edges for breakfast.

When my very, very tired head hit the pillow last night, my mind was racing. I'm pretty sure I fell asleep with a smile on my face because Art & Did's laughter was still ringing in my ears. Today I feel as though I've done too many sit ups...my stomach hurt from laughing so much yesterday...the kind of laughs where you can't make a sound because you haven't taken a breath in 30 seconds.

It was a wonderful weekend, over far too soon, and the next one is too far in the future. But I will ride the wave of the past two days for a long time to come.

Day One: Good!

Art & Did got here yesterday shortly after 2 in the afternoon. B.B. & Bitsy were anxiously watching out the window for, "Those people to get to our house." They came bearing gifts of cookies for the FarmHands, clothes for #1 Son from QM, many, many books for me, rubber boots for BabyGirl, & a Transformers shirt for B.B. Everyone was over the moon...except for #1 Son who had a brief melt down because he did not get a Transformers shirt (it was a hand-me-down from Art's boys). But once he saw his new pants & stack of shirts from Grammy, he was a bit less sad.

We picked #1 Son & BabyGirl up from school & took the FarmHands to the playground to run off some pent up energy & enjoy the 68 degree weather. After about an hour, we brought everyone home to play outside & show Miss Did & Miss Art all the farm critters.

After that, the ladies loaded up & headed to Busha & Bucka's so they could unpack. Busha has 2 spare rooms at her house. I have none. Then Art & Did headed into town to hit the local coffee shop. Art loves the place, we go every time she comes to visit. Did had fallen in love with it as well which says good things about O.C. because Did is a major coffee snob having worked in many, many coffee houses in her day.

While they were gone, I got the kids bathed & settled in with a Rocky & Bullwinkle DVD. They spent the next half an hour asking, "When are they coming back? Are you sure they're coming back, mom? Are Miss Did & Miss Art almost back? Why have they been gone so long? Did they go back to Tennessee?"

When they got back to the house (I think they may have been gone for an hour....maybe), we all ate dinner & the kids watched The Great Muppet Caper while we dug through a bag of pictures I have from high school & shortly after.

When they first got here, every time one of them would look at Bitsy, she'd burst into tears. She was not at all happy about them being at her house. By 7 o'clock last night, she had changed her tune. She was napping when they came in from getting us coffee & she was not happy that I woke her up (I don't like late in the day naps). I was trying to make dinner & she "needed" to be held. Eventually she decided Miss Did was qualified to pack her around the house & read books with her.

By eight, she started dancing. Her dancing is hysterical, so naturally, I had to cue up some good dancing music on the computer & we all had a blast! Bitsy was getting down big time. BabyGirl was trying to decided if it was really cool to dance in the living room with your mom's friends or not. B.B. was running around screaming & trying to avoid Miss Art who kept scooping him up to dance with her. #1 Son went & hid in his room for a while. Eventually he came out to tell me he was ready for bedtime stories. He kept eyeing us suspiciously like he wasn't sure dancing was really allowed in his house.

After the FarmHands were tucked in, Did took up her knitting, Art lounged on the couch (she'd been up too late the night before), and I flat ironed my hair while we all talked & laughed until our sides hurt.

It was a good day.

Motivation

Emptying all the junk out of the FarmHands' rooms has been great motivation to keep them clean. Husband picking up all the clutter in our room & cleaning off the kitchen table has been motivation to keep those places picked up. But the best motivation for cleaning my house this week is coming from the mid-south.

ART & DID ARE COMING TO MY HOUSE ON FRIDAY!!!! I'm so stoked, I've been typing in Cap Locks all morning. Art hasn't been here since I was preggers with Bitsy. Did has never been to this house & hasn't been to my neck of the woods since I was preggers with BabyGirl. I am so excited. And Saturday, I'm leaving the FarmHands with Husband, hopping in the car with Art & Did & heading even further North to visit our friend Ducky whom I haven't seen in about 2 years! I need this girl time in the worst way.

Art calls & threatens to come see me every now & then. I can never seem to muster any excitement until the weeks she's going to be here. Deep down I figure it's all going to fall apart & I'll spend the weekend crying in my shower instead of laughing my butt off in the living room. And that's the one thing I look forward to most. Laughing.

I laugh at home. I laugh at/with my kids. Husband makes me laugh. We have a good time, but it's somehow different from how I laugh with Art & Did. With them, it's the laughing until I cry thing. I cannot wait!

In the meantime, I'm attempting to keep my house picked up & generally clean so that Thursday night can be spent scrubbing bathrooms & mopping floors last minute (those things don't keep all week). I did mop last night, but I'm sure it will need doing again before Friday. Like I said, good motivation!!

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My friend Mrs.X from The Young & The Infertile went through IVF yesterday. I think this is her third attempt with IVF & the last two did not end well. I believe this time things will be much, much different. Would you please say a prayer for her & her two tiny residents, that they will set up housekeeping & stick around for oh, say 9 more months? Thanks!

The on going saga

As of last night, Husband still has a job. I'm praying it stays that way. The odd thing is, the HR director told some of the people being laid off that she was in the process of looking through applications for new hires when she got word down the wire that lay offs were to happen. No one knows what's going on.

GM goes before Congress today. Things do not look good. This worries me as my father is an employee & my grandfather is a retiree. If things go South for GM, there is the possibility that they'll go South for my family.

That leaves me with a question. Why is "going South" a bad thing? I like the South. I'd like to go South. Two of my favorite parts of the South are coming North to visit me in March...Art & Did!! I should really clean my house before they get here.

I am totally stoked. I just checked my Netflix Que & High School Musical 3 on Blu-ray should be at my house tomorrow. I know, I'm a huge dork. Can't help it! BabyGirl & I will have a rockin' good time tomorrow night. Then I'll tuck her in & watch NCIS until I can't keep my eyes open. What am I going to do when I finish season 4?! I've already seen all of season 5 & season 6 is going on right now...in the middle of bedtime so I never get to see it. Oy.

OK, I have a dilemma of sorts. I need new sneakers...you know, tennis shoes, walking shoes, jogging shoes, call them what you will. I have always been a Wal-Mart brand kind of girl. 2 years ago I bought a pair of Danskins shoes that I loved....but they do not offer decent support. In fact, my feet roll in so badly when I wear them, that I worry about my ankles & back.

Husband likes Nikes. I think I've owned 2 pairs of Nikes in my life. I had some Sketchers once. Wore them to pieces. I know nothing about shoes except that I don't want to spend my kids college fund on them (yes, that's laughter you hear....they don't have a college fund). Any advice? Any word on shoes? Anyone?

Maybe I'll skip the sneakers & go for these instead:

I mean really, who doesn't need Patchwork d'Orsays by Monolo Blahnik? They're only $825.00. No? How about these:

Orange Patent d'Orsays for $665.00. That's a bargain!

OK, so you're not into the orange theme. Here's another you might like:

Purple Snake Sandals for $885.00. I would so rule the PTA in these.

One last shoe for your drooling viewing pleasure:

Slingback Snakeskin Pump only $865!

I could have a real shoe problem if only I had the money...and a paved driveway (heels+gravel=not good). Call me Carrie Bradshaw.

Two things of great importance.

In no particular order.

Thing one: Happy birthday to my dearest friend. If I'd have known then what I know now, I'd have done the dance of joy on this day all those years ago. Of course it would have been interesting to see since I was all of 3 1/2 months old. I love you, Art! I hope you have a wonderful birthday!!

Thing two: In about a year & a half or so I will have a new sister-in-law!! Bubba popped the question to Beck shortly after they came up to visit last weekend. I've know for a while, but was sworn to secrecy until they had a chance to talk to her parents. That happened yesterday & I was given permission to shout it from the roof tops. I'm thrilled! Congrats you two! I love you!

Hey, Ya'll wanna' come over fer a yard party?

Iffen ya' want to, we've got a right nice place ta keep yer beer so's it don't get warm. And ya won't have ta keep goin' back in the house ever time ya need a fresh'un. It sets right thur beside my swing. Handy, ain't it?

Seriously, we could send A Wandering Heart's HOA into a full blown coronary.

Why, you might ponder, do we have a Frigidaire in our yard? Because we can throw nothing away if it's still structurally sound. At the moment we have an old lidless chest type freezer laying on it's side in the woods. It's currently uninhabitable, but it has housed dogs in the past. It's even served as a whelping shelter.

We have a second chest type freezer that sets at the edge of the woods so Husband can store feed in it. It keeps rabbit pellets, corn, cat food, or what ever he needs safe & dry. And the lid is too heavy for the raccoons to get into it.

Part of me wants to scream, "GET THIS CRAP OUT OF MY YARD!! I DIDN'T MARRY THE JUNK MAN OF SOUTHERN ILLINOIS!!" But the other part of me knows my husband's talent for mulitpurposing our belongings has saved us money & time frequently. And he keeps most of it hid away in the woods.

The fridge is going to be used to house the FarmHand's outside toys. Guess this saves us from buying one of those cute Rubbermaid sheds (that I've been coveting since we bought our first kick ball). I'm not sure it's going to stay, but for the moment, that's the plan.

Until it goes to live somewhere else (like the scrap yard), I shall decorate it....This one's just for you, Art!

FarmWife Answers, episode six: Return of the Jedi

I've been wanting to do that...

First off, Ang asked questions about traveling with kids. I've decided that topic needs a post of it's own. Not that I'm an expert. We never go more than 400 miles or so with ours, but I do have a few ideas.

Kork starts us off: Why is it that my almost 2-year-old Captain Chaos is a bear for me during the days (resisting anything I say), and yet when he is around BB, or Grammy and Poppa, or Uncle J that he is a delightful, happy boy?!?!?!

In a phrase, familiarity breeds contempt. It's a kid thing. I can take my screaming, crazy, unhinged gang to Busha's & they immediately settle down & become (almost) perfect angels. When SIL was in her wreck 10 years ago, she started getting very abusive to MIL. Her doctors & therapists explained that she (much like a toddler at that time) was very angry & needed a safe outlet for her rage. Her mother was a safe outlet because SIL knew no matter what she did or said to her mom, MIL would never abandon her.

Now I'm not suggesting Captain Chaos is full of rage or anything like it. He's just turning two & independence is rearing it's ugly head. It's safer to push you to see how far he can get than to push Grammy & Poppa. Someday very soon, that will come too. He'll start pushing everyone he's close to. He just wants to know who he is & what he's capable of. Since you are a HUGE part of his identity now, you are target #1.

Send him off with Daddy for a while. He needs man time. This is also the age he's beginning to identify himself more & more with his father & less & less with you. May I suggest Bringing Up Boys by Dr.Dobson and Wild at Heart by John Eldredge? While this is mostly a 2 year old thing, getting a handle on the boy part of it will help loads!

Next she asks: What specific company/unit/platoon/group of soldiers is Tom Hanks going to be following/portraying in "Pacific"? (his follow-up to Band of Brothers)

This series will follow Marines Eugene Sledge, Robert Leckie (both authors on who's works the project is based), and John Basilone and not a specific company. I've never seen Band of Brothers. Can't do war movies.

Art ponders: Why does it hurt so bad to be lonely? Will it always be this way?

Keeping with Art's love of lyrics, I have to go with Three Dog Night on this one. One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do. But no, I do not believe it will always be this way. It will get better.

Some day your Schwinn will come,
Some day you'll meet again,
And away to his bike shop you'll go,
To be happy forever I know.

Is the laundry really never ending?

Unfortunately, yes. Unless of course you become a nudist...and give up drying off after baths...and stop sleeping on sheets. Then you could totally do away with laundry!

Why do we use up so much toilet paper?

You don't really. It's a little known fact that the toilet paper goblins climb out of your toilet in the night & eat at least a third of a roll every day. There's nothing you can do but keep feeding them. Sorry.

How it is it possible for 3 very little people to make me, one grown and intelligent woman, feel so stupid?

I think Mr.C.A. said it best. You are stupid & not cool. It just took having children for this to become so painfully obvious. (For those of you who are about to stone me for calling my best friend stupid...it's OK. She totally understands.)

Do you like George Wendt?

Only if he's eating beans in a movie.

Hot Mama Extraordinaire Sarah asks: What is annoying you the most about your children at this moment? I am going nuts and need to know I am not alone.

Actually this could be a post in it's own, too! BabyGirl cannot speak civily to anyone. B.B. cannot speak without screaming (or crying depending on his mood). #1 Son has taken to moving slower than molasses in January. Bitsy is no longer sleeping...and she's starting to walk!! OK, so that's not annoying, just bittersweet. Her 9 steps on Monday nearly broke this mom's heart. Those are just the big things right now. Oh, and have I mentioned the constant fighting?!

QM asks: what happened here in 1887?

Apparently NOTHING! Or at least nothing worth mentioning on a web site. Why, what do you know that we don't?

How did the piggy bank come to be?

According to About.com, no one invented the piggy bank. It's origins are more linguistic than anything else. There was an orange clay used in pottery called "pygg" in the 15th century. Often the pygg jars were used to hold loose change by housewives. By the 18th century the English language had evolved enough that the word "pygg" was very similar to the word "pig." Whether the first pig bank was a tangible pun or the result of someone misunderstanding an order for a pygg coin jar is unknown.

When did sliced bread become the greatest thing?

July 7, 1928 Baker Frank Bench offered "The Greatest Forward Step in the Baking Industry Since Bread was Wrapped -- Sliced Kleen Maid Bread." from his bakery in Chillicothe, Missouri. He had taken a gamble on Otto Frederick Rohwedder's bread slicer.

Battle Creek, MI claims to be the home of the sliced loaf, but their claims seem to be unfounded. In 1930 Wonder Bread began marketing pre-sliced bread commercially.

Why isn't Times Square square?

I think it once was square. It was originally at the intersection of Midtown Manhattan of 42nd Street, Blooming dale Road and Seventh Avenue and called Longacre Square. "In the early 1900s, New York Times publisher Adolph S. Ochs moved the newspaper's operations to a new skyscraper on 42nd Street in Longacre Square. Ochs persuaded Mayor George B. McClellan, Jr. to construct a subway station there, and the area was renamed "Times Square" on April 8, 1904." Thank you Wikipedia.

Why do we have town squares?

Town Squares were public lands in the center of town used for market, town meetings, militia practice, and general gathering. Many are home to the court house or other municipal buildings. I think the little town where the farm hands go to school is the only one in the world that is home only to a playground & picnic shelter (OK, so maybe not the ONLY one...). They were usually built at the intersection of the town's most important roads. If you're ever in Mule Town after dark, do not go behind the town square (like that poor, stupid, little girl from that movie).

If you had to live someplace really cold were would you live?

Oh boy. Um...have I mentioned that I hate the cold? I guess if I had to, I'd like to live in Alaska for a bit. I love watching the nature films on Alaska...and I would love to see the Northern Lights someday. Although I'm not sure where in Alaska I'd live...maybe Anchorage. That way Did could tell me all the cool places to go. But then parts of New Zealand are very cold & I'd love to visit there too. Do I have to live there permanently or is this a brief sojourn?

Mommy to 4 Little People asks: Do dishes really reproduce like rabbits when the lights are off?

I fear this is not the case. I was so hoping it was, then I'd have an excuse...but since I've started attempting to "stay on top of things" I think it's an urban legend. But I think there's a special dispensation when you're sick because mine are piling up & I don't remember cooking anything.

What happens to socks in the dryer? where do they go? will I ever find the missing ones? How come as soon as I throw away a sock that has been in the basket for months the missing one appears suddenly?

Remember the toilet paper goblins I talked about before? Well, they have cousins. Sock gremlins. They use left socks to clothe their newborns. The babies are very small at birth, but grow fairly quickly....about the same time it takes for most people to get sick of looking for the missing mate & trash the one sock they can find. So just stop looking. They also use socks as dowries for their unmarried daughters, so you may never get those back.

And finally: Why do some people's bodies ache (ie joints) when the weather changes?

I get headaches when a band of very low pressure moves through. I think this is all about the fluid in your joints & changes in barometric pressure. The jury is still out on whether or not this is an actual problem or just an old wives tale, but I think it's true.

I'll get back to Ang's questions later.

That's where it's at

Once upon a time, Art & I lived in a closet of an apartment behind her parents' house, lovingly referred to as The Love Shack...or Sweet Home Alabama depending on our mood. There was a small living room that led to a tiny hall way off of which were my minuscule bed room (really, there was room for my twin sized bed, chest of drawers, and a clothes rack. That's it. I could lay in bed, open the drawers on my dresser, and that totally filled the room) and our fabulous yet itty-bitty bathroom. The hall led into the cozy kitchen and the kitchen into Art's room (possibly the biggest room in the apartment). Art's room led back into the the living room...oh, and there were no doors except for the bi-fold doors for the bathroom.

We would dance the circle. Living room to hall to kitchen to Art's room to living room....round & round to Sheryl Crow's version of Dyer Maker. We danced until we were dizzy. Then we'd collapse in a heap on Art's bed.

Eventually the apartment was too dirty for us to dance through. There were mountains of clothes on the floor. Junk everywhere. The entire apartment was normally knee deep in stuff. Between the two of us (and our used clothing store addictions) we had enough clothing to open our very own Salvation Army. It was mildly insane...all about quantity. Quality had little to do with our belongings. Eventually we traded our sectional for two cups of coffee. I think we may have gotten the better end of that deal.

We had a dear friend named Jay who couldn't stand the mess. It made him crazy. He spent a good deal of time stretching his 6' 2" frame across the orange sectional reading what ever magazines we had laying around. He must have learned a great deal from Cosmo that year.

Because we had so little of value in our house, we rarely locked the door. That and because we could never find the keys in that mess...and the glass on the back door was broken out of one pane making it real easy to "break in."

One plus to our never locking the house was that every few weeks, we'd come home to find Jay stretched out on the sectional in an exceptionally clean apartment. It was wonderful. Everything would be put neatly away, the dishes all washed, dried, and put up, candles burning, and occasionally there would be fabulous leftovers waiting for us. Jay really was awesome.

For Christmas that year Art's folks gave her a crock-pot. She was so excited about that crock-pot. She made a wonderful pot roast in our newly cleaned (by Jay I'm sure) apartment.

The house quickly fell into disarray again. One day about 3 weeks later, I was off work so I decided I'd surprise Art by cleaning up. I got to the kitchen and started the enormous task of washing every dish we owned. In the chaos I found the crock-pot. The pot roast was STILL IN IT! I put it out on the back step & left it there for my darling room mate.

It wasn't a "this is your mess, you clean it" kind of thing, I was just scared to take the lid off. I think she did clean it eventually...but I don't remember ever using the crock-pot again. Sometimes I wonder if we could have cured some horrible disease with what ever was growing in that pot...but then again it may have crawled out & eaten us.

We have a Winner...

First of all, I must announce that Ang won the pot. I got to take the truck (all by myself mind you) and drive the entire 1 mile to Uncle E's house yesterday afternoon to return movies NM lent me. But when I got there no one was home to share in my triumph. Ahhh me. So Ang is the proud recipient of $325,000 virtual dollars. Enjoy the spoils, girl!

If you're looking for a good movie to watch this week, try August Rush. It was excellent. I may watch it again this afternoon.

Only two days of Spring Break left. I wonder if we'll survive...

The Queen Mother and Art the Omnipotent left for their vacation yesterday. I miss them already. They live 5 hours from me, so it's not like I see them everyday...and they both have cell phones, so it's not like I won't be able to talk to them either. I only wish I could go lay on the beach with them for a few hours this week.

I am rather embarrassed to admit this, but part of my issues yesterday stemmed from the fact that the FarmHands broke my rocking chair. Not a big one that I use now...my little one that I got for my first Christmas (maybe). It's been well loved & well used. It made me sad, adding to the melancholy.

Last night I decided to put in The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe to watch with the FarmHands. The way that movie (and book) explain Christ's sacrifice really helps make it real for them. They fully understand that Aslan died in Edmund's place & why. When I link it back to what Jesus did for us, they are amazed. I may make this a tradition in our house...along with hiding empty eggs.

Really, what's the point in filling 60 eggs with candy only to dump the candy all back out in a communal candy bowl? I don't let the kids do the dumping or the filling, so why bother? If I'm going to give them candy (which I really may stop doing all together) why not just put it in their baskets & let them find empty eggs. They don't care if there's anything in them....

Well, I'm off to referee the FarmHands who've done nothing but fight this morning.