Ye of little faith

Inspired by my friend Piper over at Bliss in Bloom I took a leap of faith this week in honor of leap year. As the week is coming to a close I sit down to evaluate my leap and write about it. After lots of stewing and doubting, Daddy and I decided to take Little Man out of preschool. The Babe had been staying home with me or going to Nana's or Aunt Laura's lately while brother went to school. The arrangement allowed me and Daddy to work from the office or home. Since selling our business in October, I was beginning to feel like I was either neglecting the boys, or work so I wasn’t really getting anything done. When Little Man's school said there wasn’t room for Babe until August we decided to switch to a new school so both could attend together. More stewing. It just didn’t feel right. Why are earth are we spending so much money for someone else to take care of my kids? Right now it seems that I was just working to cover daycare costs. Since we were going to try a new school anyway, we decided to try the School of Mom. I was petrified. What if they get bored, what if I can't find enough stuff to occupy them, what if I am not challenging them enough, what if I go crazy? My neurosis took me on a spiral of doubt and fear. I ask myself as this first week ends, "why didn’t you do this before"? This is what you were meant to do! If you had asked me five years ago if this is where I would be today I would have said no way. I did not think I was the stay at home type. However, I found myself at a City Business Luncheon with my brother in law last week and realized, as I watched the women in the room, that I am not that woman anymore. I am somewhere in between the women at lunch and the woman that I envisioned a stay at home would be. This week has been so fulfilling. I feel productive, successful and valuable. I haven’t felt like that at many jobs I have held outside the home. I encourage everyone to take a leap of faith. Even if you doubt yourself, others believe in you and their faith in you will make you stronger! Not only did I take a leap, but so did Daddy and the boys, and we are all better for it!

Have a Little Faith in Me
John Haitt

When the road gets dark
And you can no longer see
Just let my love throw a spark
And have a little faith in me
And when the tears you cry
Are all you can believe
Just give these loving arms a try
And have a little faith in me

Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
When your secret heart

Cannot speak so easily
Come here darlin
From a whisper start
To have a little faith in me

And when your backs against the wall
Just turn around and you will see
I will catch, I will catch your fall baby
Just have a little faith in me

Well, I’ve been loving you for such a long time
Expecting nothing in return
Just for you to have a little faith in me

You see time, time is our friend cause for us there is no end
And all you gotta do is have a little faith in me
I said I will hold you up, I will hold you up
Your love gives me strength enough
So have a little faith in me

Ye of little faith

Inspired by my friend Piper over at Bliss in Bloom I took a leap of faith this week in honor of leap year. As the week is coming to a close I sit down to evaluate my leap and write about it. After lots of stewing and doubting, Daddy and I decided to take Little Man out of preschool. The Babe had been staying home with me or going to Nana's or Aunt Laura's lately while brother went to school. The arrangement allowed me and Daddy to work from the office or home. Since selling our business in October, I was beginning to feel like I was either neglecting the boys, or work so I wasn’t really getting anything done. When Little Man's school said there wasn’t room for Babe until August we decided to switch to a new school so both could attend together. More stewing. It just didn’t feel right. Why are earth are we spending so much money for someone else to take care of my kids? Right now it seems that I was just working to cover daycare costs. Since we were going to try a new school anyway, we decided to try the School of Mom. I was petrified. What if they get bored, what if I can't find enough stuff to occupy them, what if I am not challenging them enough, what if I go crazy? My neurosis took me on a spiral of doubt and fear. I ask myself as this first week ends, "why didn’t you do this before"? This is what you were meant to do! If you had asked me five years ago if this is where I would be today I would have said no way. I did not think I was the stay at home type. However, I found myself at a City Business Luncheon with my brother in law last week and realized, as I watched the women in the room, that I am not that woman anymore. I am somewhere in between the women at lunch and the woman that I envisioned a stay at home would be. This week has been so fulfilling. I feel productive, successful and valuable. I haven’t felt like that at many jobs I have held outside the home. I encourage everyone to take a leap of faith. Even if you doubt yourself, others believe in you and their faith in you will make you stronger! Not only did I take a leap, but so did Daddy and the boys, and we are all better for it!

Have a Little Faith in Me
John Haitt

When the road gets dark
And you can no longer see
Just let my love throw a spark
And have a little faith in me
And when the tears you cry
Are all you can believe
Just give these loving arms a try
And have a little faith in me

Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
When your secret heart

Cannot speak so easily
Come here darlin
From a whisper start
To have a little faith in me

And when your backs against the wall
Just turn around and you will see
I will catch, I will catch your fall baby
Just have a little faith in me

Well, I’ve been loving you for such a long time
Expecting nothing in return
Just for you to have a little faith in me

You see time, time is our friend cause for us there is no end
And all you gotta do is have a little faith in me
I said I will hold you up, I will hold you up
Your love gives me strength enough
So have a little faith in me

Lessons Learned

It is a big scary world out there. Especially when you are a preschooler trying to find your way. My little man learned two very valuable lessons today. I thought I would share them so you all can take advantage of his new found wisdom.

Lesson Number 1:
Kittens should look both ways before running across the street!

While getting in the car at Nana's, the neighbor kittens paid us a visit in the driveway. The Babe was already in the car while Little Man enjoyed frolicking with his new furry friends. Squeaks and Screeches ensued, and even Little Man giggled a bit. The two kittens soon tired of the play and began their journey home across the street. Imagine the next part in slow motion. I have buckled in giggling Little Man, I see a truck out of the corner of my eye, Nana screams go go go, I turn my head...thump.

Little Man then asks "Did that kitty hit the truck?". That is one way to look at it.

I hop in the driver’s seat to get out of there to avoid any major psychological distress when Little Man says to me "Mommy, that is why we look both ways".


Lesson Number 2:
Just to mess with Mommy, hope in the revolving door before her. Then stop moving so the door stops. Get stuck in revolving door limbo to see if mom took her meds today.

So my mom needed some docs from her former doctor here so she can proceed with her biopsy in DC. The boys and I ran over to the office and grabbed said docs without much trouble or angst. Our new and improved surgery center has a fancy revolving door similar to the picture. I mention to Little Man we are headed to the store next. He is very excited about the prospect of getting "chewies" and runs to said door. I "holler" in my most composed inside voice to tell him to slow down and hold my hand. My request has fallen on deaf ears. This disturbs me; not only because I know what will happen next, but because we were just at the same surgery center Monday for a hearing check on the same boy for his tubes. Hearing test, great. Listening test; not so great. So Little Man is in one section of the door while I debate to go into the next one or try to coax him back to me. I choose to move. I would rather have him inside than outside by himself. My movement causes his section to move. He continues to move. I am now outside and he is back in. I took my meds today so I am still smiling; so is everyone else inside. They must be, you usually don’t hear laughter like that without smiles. At first Little Man thinks it is funny but slowly begins to panic. The handy security guard pops in and gently moves him along. Upon arrival outside we are all three smiling while I provide a quick and firm reminder to hold mommy's hand.

Walking to the car Little Man says "Mommy, let's call Daddy, he will think that was funny". Fortunatly he did and did not threaten to take away my parental rights...yet.

Moral of the story: Hold Mommy's; um...the boy's hand.

Lessons Learned

It is a big scary world out there. Especially when you are a preschooler trying to find your way. My little man learned two very valuable lessons today. I thought I would share them so you all can take advantage of his new found wisdom.

Lesson Number 1:
Kittens should look both ways before running across the street!

While getting in the car at Nana's, the neighbor kittens paid us a visit in the driveway. The Babe was already in the car while Little Man enjoyed frolicking with his new furry friends. Squeaks and Screeches ensued, and even Little Man giggled a bit. The two kittens soon tired of the play and began their journey home across the street. Imagine the next part in slow motion. I have buckled in giggling Little Man, I see a truck out of the corner of my eye, Nana screams go go go, I turn my head...thump.

Little Man then asks "Did that kitty hit the truck?". That is one way to look at it.

I hop in the driver’s seat to get out of there to avoid any major psychological distress when Little Man says to me "Mommy, that is why we look both ways".


Lesson Number 2:
Just to mess with Mommy, hope in the revolving door before her. Then stop moving so the door stops. Get stuck in revolving door limbo to see if mom took her meds today.

So my mom needed some docs from her former doctor here so she can proceed with her biopsy in DC. The boys and I ran over to the office and grabbed said docs without much trouble or angst. Our new and improved surgery center has a fancy revolving door similar to the picture. I mention to Little Man we are headed to the store next. He is very excited about the prospect of getting "chewies" and runs to said door. I "holler" in my most composed inside voice to tell him to slow down and hold my hand. My request has fallen on deaf ears. This disturbs me; not only because I know what will happen next, but because we were just at the same surgery center Monday for a hearing check on the same boy for his tubes. Hearing test, great. Listening test; not so great. So Little Man is in one section of the door while I debate to go into the next one or try to coax him back to me. I choose to move. I would rather have him inside than outside by himself. My movement causes his section to move. He continues to move. I am now outside and he is back in. I took my meds today so I am still smiling; so is everyone else inside. They must be, you usually don’t hear laughter like that without smiles. At first Little Man thinks it is funny but slowly begins to panic. The handy security guard pops in and gently moves him along. Upon arrival outside we are all three smiling while I provide a quick and firm reminder to hold mommy's hand.

Walking to the car Little Man says "Mommy, let's call Daddy, he will think that was funny". Fortunatly he did and did not threaten to take away my parental rights...yet.

Moral of the story: Hold Mommy's; um...the boy's hand.

Let the Clean Up Begin!

Everyone that knows me, knows I was a little apprehensive about moving back to the Mid West. I was used to it being "just us". I was used to having a core nucleus that my world revolved around. I was concerned about feelings of obligation on my part and others. I was concerned with unannounced visitors dropping in all the time. I was concerned people would be all up in my business. Well, after two years, I have to say I am happy that although my husband was wrong, I am happy he was wrong. He was wrong when he said people will not bother us and we will not feel obligated. He was wrong when he said we would not get unannounced drop bys. He was wrong when he said the newness will wear off and people will get used to us being here again.

I have gotten used to the idea of having family and friends close. Family that loves you unconditionally and without doubts. Friends that have known you since before you were someone's parent and in need of parenting yourself. People that love you for the person you want to be and not the person you have been. Now, I cannot imagine things any other way. My boys love their cousins and we love them growing up in such a great place. With all that said, I am not kissing up to those that were generous enough to lend their precious weekend time to our ice storm damage clean up. I am merely counting my blessings. Our new yard was a mess. The idea of over an acre and a half was very appealing when we decided to move. The idea of my boys exploring the woods and going on nature walks was very exciting. Of course, I had not imagined their first nature walk to be one while watching Uncle Matt pull trees out of our yard with his truck. G loved playing with the little sticks while the big boys built a fire to burn the big sticks. Papa tended the fire while the rest of the gang hustled and cleaned up the mess in no time. I lucked out and stayed inside with the Babes.

Let the Clean Up Begin!

Everyone that knows me, knows I was a little apprehensive about moving back to the Mid West. I was used to it being "just us". I was used to having a core nucleus that my world revolved around. I was concerned about feelings of obligation on my part and others. I was concerned with unannounced visitors dropping in all the time. I was concerned people would be all up in my business. Well, after two years, I have to say I am happy that although my husband was wrong, I am happy he was wrong. He was wrong when he said people will not bother us and we will not feel obligated. He was wrong when he said we would not get unannounced drop bys. He was wrong when he said the newness will wear off and people will get used to us being here again.

I have gotten used to the idea of having family and friends close. Family that loves you unconditionally and without doubts. Friends that have known you since before you were someone's parent and in need of parenting yourself. People that love you for the person you want to be and not the person you have been. Now, I cannot imagine things any other way. My boys love their cousins and we love them growing up in such a great place. With all that said, I am not kissing up to those that were generous enough to lend their precious weekend time to our ice storm damage clean up. I am merely counting my blessings. Our new yard was a mess. The idea of over an acre and a half was very appealing when we decided to move. The idea of my boys exploring the woods and going on nature walks was very exciting. Of course, I had not imagined their first nature walk to be one while watching Uncle Matt pull trees out of our yard with his truck. G loved playing with the little sticks while the big boys built a fire to burn the big sticks. Papa tended the fire while the rest of the gang hustled and cleaned up the mess in no time. I lucked out and stayed inside with the Babes.

Silly Sunday~Chocolate Chip Peanut Butter Pancakes!

Silly Sunday~Chocolate Chip Peanut Butter Pancakes!

Pillow Talk

Today while I was putting G down for nap he was complaining about a paper cut on his middle finger on his right hand. In an effort to stop the whining I offered a band aid which was happily accepted. A few minutes later he tells me his fingers don’t work anymore. I happened to be laying down with him at this time in an effort to settle him, and myself for a little siesta. This gave me the good fortune of understanding his code speak for "I can’t suck my fingers with this stinking band aid on!". When I asked if we should take off the obstruction he said "yes, I want to suck them". Middle and Ring fingers, meet mouth, mouth meet fingers. G meet sleep. Ahh.

Pillow Talk

Today while I was putting G down for nap he was complaining about a paper cut on his middle finger on his right hand. In an effort to stop the whining I offered a band aid which was happily accepted. A few minutes later he tells me his fingers don’t work anymore. I happened to be laying down with him at this time in an effort to settle him, and myself for a little siesta. This gave me the good fortune of understanding his code speak for "I can’t suck my fingers with this stinking band aid on!". When I asked if we should take off the obstruction he said "yes, I want to suck them". Middle and Ring fingers, meet mouth, mouth meet fingers. G meet sleep. Ahh.

Tick Tock

The clock says it’s about 5:30, I am walking in the door after driving home from daycare with the boys. B screaming because he is hungry and we are late for dinner…tick tock tick tock. G screaming at B to stop crying. Daddy’s phone rings; it’s my mom. I told him I will call her back after dinner; too much chaos.

The clock says it is about 6:00 now, the phone rings again; its mom. I answer and apologize for not picking up earlier. She asks if Brad is around. I explain he is trying to bribe G into eating one more bite while I try to keep B away from the sharps in the dishwasher. Thinking she may just need some sort of technical help, I offer my services. Looking back this was silly as she knows as much about technology as Daddy and I do. She hesitates…tick tock, tick tock. I knew then. I said “mom, you want to make sure Brad is here before you tell me something”. She does it the way I would do it, rip it off like a band aid, just say it. Cancer. Again.

I have suspected my mom’s health was declining since last April. B was getting baptized at the Easter Service and mom called the day she was to leave DC and said she couldn’t make it. Although it was actually an accident my step dad had at the job site that caused their absence, things did not improve as the year progressed. Every time I talked to mom, she was sick. Sinus Infection, Cold, Bronchitis, Pneumonia. She just always seemed run down. The sinus infection went into a cold that three rounds of anti-biotics could not kick. First x-ray: abnormal. Second x-ray: abnormal. CAT scan: Lung Cancer spread to lymph nodes.

Mom is no stranger to cancer. She fought breast cancer and beat it while I was in high school. Although she had to have multiple surgeries she came out stronger than ever. Her attitude was amazing during the whole process. She must have learned that from Nana during her breast cancer fight. A strong disease but even stronger women.

The clock says 6:15. I call my sister. She is upset; mad the doctors can’t see mom sooner. Sis is already on her way to DC with her husband and 6 week old baby girl. She cannot get there fast enough. Tick tock, tick tock. I feel guilty I am not on my way yet. I feel it is not my time to go yet. Am I wrong?

The clock says 6:22. I call my dad; my mom’s ex-husband. Although they have only spoken to each other three times in the last 13 years ( my wedding and my sister's weddings) I need my dad to know, I need to hear his voice. He is supportive and gracious. He says he is sad she has to go through this again; but she can do it. Thanks dad. I am glad I called.

I hope I gave mom the response she needed. She said my sister broke down. I feel guilty because I didn’t. That is not the way I handle things. I went into research mode. How long have you had it? In what stage is it? What type of cancer is it? I need to be her advocate. I need her to know I care and I am worried but did I come off callus or too stoic? A mother of two, I recognize my boys have opposite personalities; I know mom sees the same in me and my sister.

The clock says it’s about 9:30. Now we wait. They say it is cancer but we wait for oncology and pulmonary specialists to tell us how bad and what to do. Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

I already know what to do. Stop all the clocks and Pray.

Tick Tock

The clock says it’s about 5:30, I am walking in the door after driving home from daycare with the boys. B screaming because he is hungry and we are late for dinner…tick tock tick tock. G screaming at B to stop crying. Daddy’s phone rings; it’s my mom. I told him I will call her back after dinner; too much chaos.

The clock says it is about 6:00 now, the phone rings again; its mom. I answer and apologize for not picking up earlier. She asks if Brad is around. I explain he is trying to bribe G into eating one more bite while I try to keep B away from the sharps in the dishwasher. Thinking she may just need some sort of technical help, I offer my services. Looking back this was silly as she knows as much about technology as Daddy and I do. She hesitates…tick tock, tick tock. I knew then. I said “mom, you want to make sure Brad is here before you tell me something”. She does it the way I would do it, rip it off like a band aid, just say it. Cancer. Again.

I have suspected my mom’s health was declining since last April. B was getting baptized at the Easter Service and mom called the day she was to leave DC and said she couldn’t make it. Although it was actually an accident my step dad had at the job site that caused their absence, things did not improve as the year progressed. Every time I talked to mom, she was sick. Sinus Infection, Cold, Bronchitis, Pneumonia. She just always seemed run down. The sinus infection went into a cold that three rounds of anti-biotics could not kick. First x-ray: abnormal. Second x-ray: abnormal. CAT scan: Lung Cancer spread to lymph nodes.

Mom is no stranger to cancer. She fought breast cancer and beat it while I was in high school. Although she had to have multiple surgeries she came out stronger than ever. Her attitude was amazing during the whole process. She must have learned that from Nana during her breast cancer fight. A strong disease but even stronger women.

The clock says 6:15. I call my sister. She is upset; mad the doctors can’t see mom sooner. Sis is already on her way to DC with her husband and 6 week old baby girl. She cannot get there fast enough. Tick tock, tick tock. I feel guilty I am not on my way yet. I feel it is not my time to go yet. Am I wrong?

The clock says 6:22. I call my dad; my mom’s ex-husband. Although they have only spoken to each other three times in the last 13 years ( my wedding and my sister's weddings) I need my dad to know, I need to hear his voice. He is supportive and gracious. He says he is sad she has to go through this again; but she can do it. Thanks dad. I am glad I called.

I hope I gave mom the response she needed. She said my sister broke down. I feel guilty because I didn’t. That is not the way I handle things. I went into research mode. How long have you had it? In what stage is it? What type of cancer is it? I need to be her advocate. I need her to know I care and I am worried but did I come off callus or too stoic? A mother of two, I recognize my boys have opposite personalities; I know mom sees the same in me and my sister.

The clock says it’s about 9:30. Now we wait. They say it is cancer but we wait for oncology and pulmonary specialists to tell us how bad and what to do. Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

I already know what to do. Stop all the clocks and Pray.

Passive Agressive?

On the way home from school yesterday Daddy asked G what he did at school. G proceeded to giggle and say "I farted on Bobby's bed".In this classroom, Bobby is kind of the gang leader. All the kids want ot be friends with him, but he is not a great influence. Each day, Bobby will come in and select his friends for the day. Fortunatly my boy has a little girl friend that he says is his best friend so he is not fazed by Bobby. Bobby is surprisingly the teacher's pet. He growls and moons other kids, but still seems to win the heart of Miss Teacher. He is a cutie, I will give him that, but not as cute as my boy. I wondered as I heard about G's day if this wasn't his little way of rebelling against the bully. What do you think?

*Names have been changed to protect the bully. I do not mean to offend if you or someone you know is a Bobby.

Passive Agressive?

On the way home from school yesterday Daddy asked G what he did at school. G proceeded to giggle and say "I farted on Bobby's bed".In this classroom, Bobby is kind of the gang leader. All the kids want ot be friends with him, but he is not a great influence. Each day, Bobby will come in and select his friends for the day. Fortunatly my boy has a little girl friend that he says is his best friend so he is not fazed by Bobby. Bobby is surprisingly the teacher's pet. He growls and moons other kids, but still seems to win the heart of Miss Teacher. He is a cutie, I will give him that, but not as cute as my boy. I wondered as I heard about G's day if this wasn't his little way of rebelling against the bully. What do you think?

*Names have been changed to protect the bully. I do not mean to offend if you or someone you know is a Bobby.

Drama Queen

You know how some people seem to always have something going wrong in their lives? How they seem to only function when they have some sort of drama. Well I am not one of those people. I thrive on routine and when my routine is thrown out of whack I become a little cranky. Needless to say this is how my week has gone:

Friday, Saturday, Sunday: My car has a fuel leak so we are down to one car. Throw my children and myself into upheaval when we decide to move to our new house a week early.

Monday: Wake up to our yearly ice storm without power in said new home (of course the old house that is empty has power and internet access).

Tuesday: Spend the day at Nana's house after spending the night. Have a "work" from home day (i.e. got nothing done)

Wednesday: Work from my husband's office and get a little work done! Still no power but stay at the new house with generator power. Alternate between heat and lights. Wake up to Beau gasping for air; debate on taking him to the ER but change my mind after a steamy shower and a breathing treatment open his lungs.

Thursday: Take Beau to the Doctor for some steroids. Better baby. Have sweetheart lunch with my little man at his school. Spaghetti, bread, salad, pineapple and lots of treats. Get a satisfactory B+ on the midterm I took Sunday, which, under the circumstances is excellent. 7pm come home to POWER! I see a light at the end of the tunnel, things are starting to go my way after a great day!

Friday: Learn that I sent out change of address notes without a return address label of name...who moved? Take G to school and get a call around 10am that he busted his chin and will probably need stitches. A little glue will do the trick until we see the plastic surgeon per Dr.'s instructions (he hamburgered it pretty good falling on a toy). Well, my little neurotic boy, at least it is symmetrical with the scar from last year on your forehead.














Saturday: Hibernate with a bottle.

Drama Queen

You know how some people seem to always have something going wrong in their lives? How they seem to only function when they have some sort of drama. Well I am not one of those people. I thrive on routine and when my routine is thrown out of whack I become a little cranky. Needless to say this is how my week has gone:

Friday, Saturday, Sunday: My car has a fuel leak so we are down to one car. Throw my children and myself into upheaval when we decide to move to our new house a week early.

Monday: Wake up to our yearly ice storm without power in said new home (of course the old house that is empty has power and internet access).

Tuesday: Spend the day at Nana's house after spending the night. Have a "work" from home day (i.e. got nothing done)

Wednesday: Work from my husband's office and get a little work done! Still no power but stay at the new house with generator power. Alternate between heat and lights. Wake up to Beau gasping for air; debate on taking him to the ER but change my mind after a steamy shower and a breathing treatment open his lungs.

Thursday: Take Beau to the Doctor for some steroids. Better baby. Have sweetheart lunch with my little man at his school. Spaghetti, bread, salad, pineapple and lots of treats. Get a satisfactory B+ on the midterm I took Sunday, which, under the circumstances is excellent. 7pm come home to POWER! I see a light at the end of the tunnel, things are starting to go my way after a great day!

Friday: Learn that I sent out change of address notes without a return address label of name...who moved? Take G to school and get a call around 10am that he busted his chin and will probably need stitches. A little glue will do the trick until we see the plastic surgeon per Dr.'s instructions (he hamburgered it pretty good falling on a toy). Well, my little neurotic boy, at least it is symmetrical with the scar from last year on your forehead.














Saturday: Hibernate with a bottle.

Our house, In the middle of the street

February was named after the Latin term februum, which means purification. The definition of purification is the process of rendering something pure, i.e. clean of foreign elements and/or pollution. In Finnish, February is called helmikuu, meaning "month of the pearl"; when snow melts on tree branches, it forms droplets, and as these freeze again, they are like pearls of ice. We defiantly have ice! I am hoping all the ice we have now will soon melt and as it washes down the streets will purify us by taking with it the cares and worries of the previous year. Last year’s ice storm was the week of January 8th. The date is s readily available to me because that is the week my MBA classes started and my youngest came home at 8 weeks of age on an oxygen saturation monitor due to pneumonia and RSV. Needless to say that was a stressful week. I dropped my classes and neglected work to focus on my family and get my boy well. While we were out of power for a week or more we used generator power and three gas fireplaces to stay warm. The baby slept in a pack-n-play in our master closet to be close to us. I would monitor his saturation at feedings to avoid running the battery too quickly. Our oldest at the ripe age of 19 months was a trooper and played right along with our camping theme while running around the house with his Thomas flashlight.

This year’s storm is a little different. We purchased a new home recently, and although we had planned on moving next weekend, we moved this weekend. The family got involved and with all of the help we had we were able to move much faster than expected. We used various trucks and vehicles and the ever popular trailer (visit my post about the trailer). We would take a load and unload it at the new house and while I organized it, the team would go get another load. It was a great system that allowed us to get settle in within a couple of days. In the midst of the move I had a midterm due (I started taking classes again this term) but was able to easily take that with the support of the family. So we get settled in and Sunday night we hear the ice man cometh! We wake up Monday to the city being shut down and no school. Shortly after waking our power went out. So we take the boys to Nana’s house and check on the old house (that is still vacant because we haven’t sold it yet) and of course it has power and internet access! So we spent Monday and Tuesday in our pajama's at Nana’s. We played outside, played on the swings in the basement, played the drums, played pool, played in the bathtub, played hide and seek behind the curtains, played, played, played. By this time I am feeling disconnected and cranky and so are my children. We are all creatures of habit.




Although I complain about the inconveniences this storm has caused I count my blessings. We are all safe, and although we have a lot of yard cleanup, we have no damage to our homes. Although Beau has a case of Croup it certainly isn’t anything like last year. I am very excited about the new house. It has a pool, hot tub, and 1.5 acres. The boys will have a great time traipsing through the woods and having grand adventures looking for bugs and making forts. The youngest seems to like it too; put him anywhere and he will sleep his 12 hour night. Gannon, on the other hand is a bird of a different color. The candles cast wispy shadows on the walls that he calls “monsters”. The generator is loud and he says it sounds like a helicopter. He tried to turn on the lights this morning and in each room said “mommy, the batteries are out in this room too”. He has told us many times “Please, this is not our home”, “this is not your home 9pointing to me), your home (pointing to daddy), my home, or brother’s home”, “this is nobody’s home (making a karate kid wax on-wax of motion with his hands)”. It breaks my heart. Once we can get up the hill with four inches of ice to the old house we plan on taking him there to show him it is empty and it is nobodys home. It is hard to explain to a 2.5 year old that anywhere is home as long as we are together.





*Disclaimer about the video: my children are very fair skinned like their mama. Although we were outside for only a few minutes, their cheeks were very red. I am not abusing or neglecting them. Also, sorry for the poor lighting but that is what you get with limited power.

Our house, In the middle of the street

February was named after the Latin term februum, which means purification. The definition of purification is the process of rendering something pure, i.e. clean of foreign elements and/or pollution. In Finnish, February is called helmikuu, meaning "month of the pearl"; when snow melts on tree branches, it forms droplets, and as these freeze again, they are like pearls of ice. We defiantly have ice! I am hoping all the ice we have now will soon melt and as it washes down the streets will purify us by taking with it the cares and worries of the previous year. Last year’s ice storm was the week of January 8th. The date is s readily available to me because that is the week my MBA classes started and my youngest came home at 8 weeks of age on an oxygen saturation monitor due to pneumonia and RSV. Needless to say that was a stressful week. I dropped my classes and neglected work to focus on my family and get my boy well. While we were out of power for a week or more we used generator power and three gas fireplaces to stay warm. The baby slept in a pack-n-play in our master closet to be close to us. I would monitor his saturation at feedings to avoid running the battery too quickly. Our oldest at the ripe age of 19 months was a trooper and played right along with our camping theme while running around the house with his Thomas flashlight.

This year’s storm is a little different. We purchased a new home recently, and although we had planned on moving next weekend, we moved this weekend. The family got involved and with all of the help we had we were able to move much faster than expected. We used various trucks and vehicles and the ever popular trailer (visit my post about the trailer). We would take a load and unload it at the new house and while I organized it, the team would go get another load. It was a great system that allowed us to get settle in within a couple of days. In the midst of the move I had a midterm due (I started taking classes again this term) but was able to easily take that with the support of the family. So we get settled in and Sunday night we hear the ice man cometh! We wake up Monday to the city being shut down and no school. Shortly after waking our power went out. So we take the boys to Nana’s house and check on the old house (that is still vacant because we haven’t sold it yet) and of course it has power and internet access! So we spent Monday and Tuesday in our pajama's at Nana’s. We played outside, played on the swings in the basement, played the drums, played pool, played in the bathtub, played hide and seek behind the curtains, played, played, played. By this time I am feeling disconnected and cranky and so are my children. We are all creatures of habit.


Although I complain about the inconveniences this storm has caused I count my blessings. We are all safe, and although we have a lot of yard cleanup, we have no damage to our homes. Although Beau has a case of Croup it certainly isn’t anything like last year. I am very excited about the new house. It has a pool, hot tub, and 1.5 acres. The boys will have a great time traipsing through the woods and having grand adventures looking for bugs and making forts. The youngest seems to like it too; put him anywhere and he will sleep his 12 hour night. Gannon, on the other hand is a bird of a different color. The candles cast wispy shadows on the walls that he calls “monsters”. The generator is loud and he says it sounds like a helicopter. He tried to turn on the lights this morning and in each room said “mommy, the batteries are out in this room too”. He has told us many times “Please, this is not our home”, “this is not your home 9pointing to me), your home (pointing to daddy), my home, or brother’s home”, “this is nobody’s home (making a karate kid wax on-wax of motion with his hands)”. It breaks my heart. Once we can get up the hill with four inches of ice to the old house we plan on taking him there to show him it is empty and it is nobodys home. It is hard to explain to a 2.5 year old that anywhere is home as long as we are together.





*Disclaimer about the video: my children are very fair skinned like their mama. Although we were outside for only a few minutes, their cheeks were very red. I am not abusing or neglecting them. Also, sorry for the poor lighting but that is what you get with limited power.

Trailer for Sale or Rent

Rooms to let...fifty cents.No phone, no pool, no pets I ain't got no cigarettes

This old Roger Miller gone Don Williams song resonates in mind right now. Not only did we move this weekend using a trailer, but our yearly ice storm has rendered me powerless, begging for a room, without a phone, and praying for pool weather. I don’t smoke, but I didn’t have my daily dose of Red Bull and if I had, it would be room temp because my fridge is out of power! The song was in mind regulary as I thought about the trailer we used to move. What is it about trailers that is so alluring to some people? My gypsy blood has moved me around the country a lot in the last ten years. 816 to 417, 417 to 919, 919 to 860, 860 to 816, 816 to 336, 336 to 919, 919 to 816, 816 to 239, and finally 239 back to 417. During my journey I honed my skills and yearning to learn about people and wait makes us tick. When I moved back to the Midwest I noticed that many folks (see how I picked up the slang again?) aspire to own a trailer. Not a boat trailer like that in 239 or 919, but a trailer. The kind you see a dirt bike or ATV strapped to on the way to the track. The kind you see driving down the road behind a dully (let me know if you need a definition) (again, not something I saw a lot of in 860) full of hay. Although I have only had one husband, the one I had in 336 and 919 wanted fly fishing gear to fish the shore, my husband in 239 wanted a flats boat, the husband in 417 now wants a trailer. I continue to ask him why we need one when his brother has one that we can use. Much like the fishing gear in the garage, and the boat we sold when we moved back to 417, I imagine I will soon have a trailer pad somewhere on my new 1.5 acres.

Trailer for Sale or Rent

Rooms to let...fifty cents.No phone, no pool, no pets I ain't got no cigarettes

This old Roger Miller gone Don Williams song resonates in mind right now. Not only did we move this weekend using a trailer, but our yearly ice storm has rendered me powerless, begging for a room, without a phone, and praying for pool weather. I don’t smoke, but I didn’t have my daily dose of Red Bull and if I had, it would be room temp because my fridge is out of power! The song was in mind regulary as I thought about the trailer we used to move. What is it about trailers that is so alluring to some people? My gypsy blood has moved me around the country a lot in the last ten years. 816 to 417, 417 to 919, 919 to 860, 860 to 816, 816 to 336, 336 to 919, 919 to 816, 816 to 239, and finally 239 back to 417. During my journey I honed my skills and yearning to learn about people and wait makes us tick. When I moved back to the Midwest I noticed that many folks (see how I picked up the slang again?) aspire to own a trailer. Not a boat trailer like that in 239 or 919, but a trailer. The kind you see a dirt bike or ATV strapped to on the way to the track. The kind you see driving down the road behind a dully (let me know if you need a definition) (again, not something I saw a lot of in 860) full of hay. Although I have only had one husband, the one I had in 336 and 919 wanted fly fishing gear to fish the shore, my husband in 239 wanted a flats boat, the husband in 417 now wants a trailer. I continue to ask him why we need one when his brother has one that we can use. Much like the fishing gear in the garage, and the boat we sold when we moved back to 417, I imagine I will soon have a trailer pad somewhere on my new 1.5 acres.

Hug a Redhead Today!

If predictions by the Oxford Hair Foundation come to pass, the number of natural redheads everywhere will continue to dwindle until there are none left by the year 2100. The reason, according to scientists at the independent institute in England, which studies all sorts of hair problems, is that just 4 percent of the world's population carries the red-hair gene. The gene is recessive (and therefore diluted when carriers produce children with people who have the dominant brown-hair gene. Dr. John Gray's often publicized explanation of his foundation's findings: "The way things are going; red hair will either be extremely rare or extinct by the end of the century." The gene responsible for red hair - known as the melanocortin 1 receptor, or MC1R - was only discovered in the late 1990s. People have a good chance of being born with red hair if they have a mutation of that gene. Red hair is found in all ethnic backgrounds but is most commonly associated with people of Celtic descent. (I am not Irish although I play one on March 17th.)

Maybe I need to have my friend the rocket scientist (ok, ok, genetic researcher) look into this…let me know your thoughts T.

So I have a few thoughts about this possibility:

~Thank goodness I will be gone because a world without Red is no place to live!
~“Studying all sorts of hair problems”; who decides that is what they want to do with their life?
~Recessive my arse: My dad, me (obviously) my brother, and now my son. I won’t even get into my dad’s 7 siblings. (some of which are shown here)

~As I read the article about my people’s pending doom, I thought back to the ridicule I experienced as a young child and then the near celebrity I received as I reached adulthood. I have grown to love my red hair and “angle kisses” (now that I have the sharpie off my skin from my sister connecting the dots in an attempt to see how many I had as a youth; why did I let her do that?) and think of them as my trademark.

Quotable and red:

"She has no name, the red-haired girl from the bog, but she is easy enough to identify, for old legends declare that anything red and white is fairy born. ... Her dancing partners should have recognized their danger, for red-haired girls with milky skin - and anyone resembling them, even non-redheads wearing red petticoats - are omens of ill fortune, folklorist Lady Wilde informs us, while archaeologist Thomas Westropp records the belief that a mere glance from a red-haired girl can kill a horse or a man."- From "The Red-Haired Girl from the Bog: The Landscape of Celtic Myth and Spirit" by Patricia Monaghan

My husband might agree with that last part some times!


A young man marrying a redhead asked his father for some marital advice. The father said, "Just remind her who wears the pants in your family." The evening arrived; the new husband tossed his pants to his bride and said, "Here put these on." She did and said "I don't fit into these." "That's right!" he said, "and don't you forget who wears the pants in this family!" With that she flipped him her panties and said, "Try these on." He looked at them and said, "I can't get into your panties!" She said, "That's right - and you won't until your attitude changes!"

Hug a Redhead Today!

If predictions by the Oxford Hair Foundation come to pass, the number of natural redheads everywhere will continue to dwindle until there are none left by the year 2100. The reason, according to scientists at the independent institute in England, which studies all sorts of hair problems, is that just 4 percent of the world's population carries the red-hair gene. The gene is recessive (and therefore diluted when carriers produce children with people who have the dominant brown-hair gene. Dr. John Gray's often publicized explanation of his foundation's findings: "The way things are going; red hair will either be extremely rare or extinct by the end of the century." The gene responsible for red hair - known as the melanocortin 1 receptor, or MC1R - was only discovered in the late 1990s. People have a good chance of being born with red hair if they have a mutation of that gene. Red hair is found in all ethnic backgrounds but is most commonly associated with people of Celtic descent. (I am not Irish although I play one on March 17th.)

Maybe I need to have my friend the rocket scientist (ok, ok, genetic researcher) look into this…let me know your thoughts T.

So I have a few thoughts about this possibility:

~Thank goodness I will be gone because a world without Red is no place to live!
~“Studying all sorts of hair problems”; who decides that is what they want to do with their life?
~Recessive my arse: My dad, me (obviously) my brother, and now my son. I won’t even get into my dad’s 7 siblings. (some of which are shown here)

~As I read the article about my people’s pending doom, I thought back to the ridicule I experienced as a young child and then the near celebrity I received as I reached adulthood. I have grown to love my red hair and “angle kisses” (now that I have the sharpie off my skin from my sister connecting the dots in an attempt to see how many I had as a youth; why did I let her do that?) and think of them as my trademark.

Quotable and red:

"She has no name, the red-haired girl from the bog, but she is easy enough to identify, for old legends declare that anything red and white is fairy born. ... Her dancing partners should have recognized their danger, for red-haired girls with milky skin - and anyone resembling them, even non-redheads wearing red petticoats - are omens of ill fortune, folklorist Lady Wilde informs us, while archaeologist Thomas Westropp records the belief that a mere glance from a red-haired girl can kill a horse or a man."- From "The Red-Haired Girl from the Bog: The Landscape of Celtic Myth and Spirit" by Patricia Monaghan

My husband might agree with that last part some times!


A young man marrying a redhead asked his father for some marital advice. The father said, "Just remind her who wears the pants in your family." The evening arrived; the new husband tossed his pants to his bride and said, "Here put these on." She did and said "I don't fit into these." "That's right!" he said, "and don't you forget who wears the pants in this family!" With that she flipped him her panties and said, "Try these on." He looked at them and said, "I can't get into your panties!" She said, "That's right - and you won't until your attitude changes!"

Mess with the Bull...

...You Get the Horns!


I don’t get out much. Although I work from home, I am a bad mommy and send two of my best buddies to “school” so I can get some work done. This is a busy time of year at our house. My birthday is the last week of January, with my wedding anniversary the following day. My husband’s birthday is one week after mine and usually somewhere in the mists of all that is the Super Bowl. As you can imagine, for a couple that doesn’t get out much, we have splurged the last couple of weeks. After the birth of my second child last year I noticed I needed an extra kick to get up and at ‘em; preferably not from my husband trying to get me out of bed though. In my time of need I turned to Starbuck’s. Once I realized the calories I was drinking I decided to try other caffeinated drinks like The Bull. Ah, it even comes in sugar free with zero calories! That’s right, you can choose leaded or unleaded depending on your engine! What I find ironic about the whole caffeine thing is that the more I have, the more I need. Last night’s festivities had me mixing the Bull with a guy named Stohli (or a distant cousin to him); not a good idea. I was like a hummingbird on crack; and I am already wound pretty tightly. I would share pictures from the parties but alas, I have none; too busy buzzing around. Today I find myself needing more Bull as I struggle to keep my eyes open. Not from lack of sleep mind you, heck, I was in bed early enough to think the Pats won!

Mess with the Bull...

...You Get the Horns!


I don’t get out much. Although I work from home, I am a bad mommy and send two of my best buddies to “school” so I can get some work done. This is a busy time of year at our house. My birthday is the last week of January, with my wedding anniversary the following day. My husband’s birthday is one week after mine and usually somewhere in the mists of all that is the Super Bowl. As you can imagine, for a couple that doesn’t get out much, we have splurged the last couple of weeks. After the birth of my second child last year I noticed I needed an extra kick to get up and at ‘em; preferably not from my husband trying to get me out of bed though. In my time of need I turned to Starbuck’s. Once I realized the calories I was drinking I decided to try other caffeinated drinks like The Bull. Ah, it even comes in sugar free with zero calories! That’s right, you can choose leaded or unleaded depending on your engine! What I find ironic about the whole caffeine thing is that the more I have, the more I need. Last night’s festivities had me mixing the Bull with a guy named Stohli (or a distant cousin to him); not a good idea. I was like a hummingbird on crack; and I am already wound pretty tightly. I would share pictures from the parties but alas, I have none; too busy buzzing around. Today I find myself needing more Bull as I struggle to keep my eyes open. Not from lack of sleep mind you, heck, I was in bed early enough to think the Pats won!