My Name is Mommy

Seriously.  This blogger sucks!  She never writes anything!!

Oh wait.  That’s me.  Heh.

Okay, so I’m enjoying a bit of my Summer Break.  Yeah, as a homeschooling mom, I was excited as my daughter to count down to the end of the school year.  I know, some homeschooling families continue throughout the entire year, learning and teaching and making themselves better members of society.  That’s fantastic for them.  Me?  I need a break to look forward to.  (For which to look forward, I know.).  And summer break came just in time!!!  Not that we can’t continue to learn over the summer.  But we?  We don’t have to.  We can be ignorant and let our brains turn completely to mush over the next few months.  It’s our right.  We have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of boogers for brains.  I read it somewhere.

Actually, summer break for me has been an opportunity to read like mad for myself.  No one else.  To learn nothing in particular.  Just to read to my heart’s desire.  And I am.  And I love it.

And the kids?  Booger brains.  Fed by stuff like Chowder and Sponge Bob.  And they love it, too.

I’ll be back to writing something worth reading soon.  Until then, send me your favorite authors.  Nothing sci-fi or fantasy, though.  And that’s a strict rule.  Otherwise you will experience pain.  Lots and lots of pain.  (Name it, anyone?)

My friend and I took our kids out strawberry picking this morning. I’ve heard of people doing it for years around here, but never had my act together early enough to get to the fields on time. (For most farms around here, this is one of the last few days to pick, or else they’re already done with it.)

Truth be told, I didn’t have my act together this year either. My friend did. She planned the date. I did the research. We made it in time. We’re a good team. Apart from each other, just bumps on a log. Not really. At least not for her. For me? True.

Anyway, the kids had fun. Luke’s favorite part was running up and down the rows in the fields and every 15 minutes or so yelling out, “I found one!”

Yeah. Extremely helpful. But he had lots of fun. And I still owe him for the whole birthday incident.

Here are some photos from the day. You enjoy while I go look up a recipe for strawberry jam….

Just updating and rearranging around here.  Domain stuff and things that Bald Man thought would be good.  Whatever.  Right now, it just means a pretty design here until I learn design or con someone else into doing it for me. :P  Anyone, anyone……

Life is good.  School is officially done for the year.  I’m finding that, as a homeschooling mom, I look forward to summer vacation as much as the kids!!!

What else?  Surely there’s something new and fun going on.  Who knows.  I’ll try to get less sleep deprived and come back with something entertaining.

Why is it that I insisted on telling the waiter that it was Luke’s birthday and that they could all gather ’round and sing to him? ‘Cause I’m stupid. Even after Bald Man said not to b/c Luke wouldn’t like it, I still told the guy. And you know what? Luke turned his head down and cried. CRIED!! One of the waitresses stopped singing and was all, “I can’t keep making him cry.” She had more compassion for my child than I did.

And the real reason that I asked them to recognize his birthday? Because I hadn’t made a cake. And there were no candles. One of my children had a birthday and I made no cake, bought no cake, and had no candles for him to blow out. So, obviously, if you’re not going to bake a cake, the next best thing is to make your child cry.

Yeah, he had a cake the night before at Titi’s. With candles. That he blew out (or his brother did, I really don’t remember). But that wasn’t good enough! I should have made a cake that would be his exactly three years to the day (or plus one, Leap Day and that) of his birth!!!! I failed.

Yes, I have issues. And, depending on who you are, it’s either that I have a high guilt complex or that I really am a bad mother. You choose.

The funny thing is that, apparently, Luke thought those crazy servers were just sadistic child-torturers. Because the waiter came by with the check and was all, “I’m sorry we scared you little buddy. We didn’t mean to. Happy Birthday.”

And Luke looked at me and was all, “He didn’t mean to scare me.” And was totally relieved. Good thing he doesn’t know that I was the one who set him up to be terrorized in the first place.

Well, today is the last day that I’ll have a two year old. My baby turns three tomorrow. It’s crazy how quickly time flies. And if you’re looking for me tomorrow, I’ll be the one dancing up and down the street singing, “Hallelujah!”.

As you may remember, two hasn’t always been easy in our house. And I’m not really sad to see it go. And really not for any other reason than it means we’re moving forward with our little family.

Two is quite amazing, actually. The changes that occur in that year are unbelievably phenomenal. From speech, to mobility, to they way they play, to the way they think, it’s just unimaginable. It seems that it would take an adult an entire lifetime to accomplish the changes that a child makes in just that year. And it’s a beautiful thing to be a part of.

But I don’t think I’ll miss it. I’ve had the joy (and struggle!) of being with all of my kids, day in and out, through all of their twos. And I think I’ve had my fill.
Now to get one more through the threes. Because, as well all know, three is much harder than two. All those fancy words that you thought it would be fun to teach your two year old? All of the attitude he’s been observing in his older sibs? All of the knock-knock jokes that he’s committed to memory? They all come to haunt you in the threes. And I’ll feel completely joyed at getting to experience the threes for one last time. (Remind me of this in a coupla months, will ya? )

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And Happy Birthday to Jackie!!!!!!! (I was gonna put a nice photo of her up here, but I think she’ll kill me no matter what photo I use. She should stop yawning when I go to take her picture so I have some options. )

Yep, I finally did it.

No, I wasn’t drunk. Yes, I knew it would be permanent. Yes, it hurt.

So, the why, since that’s usually the next question. I’ve wanted a tattoo for about 10 years. Yes, I really have. I just needed to come up with something that mattered enough to me to have it put on my body. I contemplated one to mark my Dad’s life and death, and I even have an idea in my head, but I’ve never stumbled upon an image that comes close to what’s in my head, yet.

So, Jack and I took a trip to South Carolina earlier this month (I’ll share more about that soon), and I decided then that I wanted a tattoo for Mother’s Day. I know many go for the mother’s ring, with the birthstones of their children in the ring. I don’t actually like the kids’ stones together, so I decided I’d go a different route.

I decided that I’d just get the kids’ initials tattooed on. I love it, it matters to me, and when I go, it goes. No ring to fight over. And if they’re fighting over the tattoo itself, it’s means I’ve seriously damaged the psyches of my kids more than I could ever imagine.
Sidenote: Did you know that it’s been illegal to get a tattoo in South Carolina until the last year or two? Something like that. Anyway, it was crazy because Jack and I couldn’t find a place in SC to get our tattoos! We ended up getting them on the way home (yes, she got one, too) at Beelistic in Cincinnati. Rich did our tattoos. I told him that anyone who permanently changed my skin had to get in a photo with me. Here he is:

Here’s Jackie enjoying the gentle tickling of the tattoo.

Day: Mother’s Day Morning

Samantha: “Where’s Mommy?”
Bald Man: “In the bathroom.”
Samantha: “What’s she doing in there?”
Jake: “She’s clipping her eyebrows off.“
Samantha: “Nuh uh.”
Jake: “Uh huh.”

Here’s hoping you had a Mother’s Day requiring no clipping off of your eyebrows.

Your Mind is Purple

Of all the mind types, yours is the most idealistic. You tend to think wild, amazing thoughts. Your dreams and fantasies are intense. Your thoughts are creative, inventive, and without boundaries. You tend to spend a lot of time thinking of fictional people and places - or a very different life for yourself.

Strangely, very accurate.

It’s really hard to feel sorry for your kid when he’s crying because he bit his own finger while eating because he wasn’t paying attention.

I always thought it was interesting that Christians quite often celebrate Easter with a dinner focused on a ham…..which I believe was not a food that the Jews were permitted to eat.

Anyway, Happy Easter. As I mentioned before, Bald Man and I fasted from meat for the period of Lent this year. And while that means I could technically have meat 32 minutes ago, I wanted to reflect a bit before I broke my fast.

Bald Man and I were listening to a speaker on the radio today, a minister whose church was choosing to fast in a different way this year. She said something to the effect that so often Lenten sacrifices tended to focus on the person sacrificing, and not on the Lord. She wanted to change that this year, so she and some of her congregation were choosing to fast from their carbon consumption this year. Obviously not completely, but some were choosing to line-dry clothes instead of using the dryer, some were carpooling, and things like that. They were choosing to give up conveniences in order to cause less harm to the environment and God’s creation. I thought that was pretty cool.

Anyway, while I obviously made a dietary fast, I think that it really has opened my eyes in ways that I, too, can have an affect on the environment, locally and globally, and serve those living here with me.

The first lesson learned was that we don’t need so much meat in our diet!!!! And, don’t get me wrong, I love it, but I certainly don’t need as much as I consume. Paying less for meat and exchanging some of that cost for beans (sooooo much cheaper!) can free up some cash to donate more to our favorite charities, especially much wanted beans and grains for those who have nothing.

Another reminder. Even if I never had meat again, I live where there is so much abundance of food that I would survive and probably still be overweight. Cheese and chocolate are not made of meat (and I was thankful for that!!!). Still, moderation is good, whether meat or beans or cheese or bread. Maybe next year I need to fast from cheese instead.
We’ve really wanted to support local farmers and providers who we know are treating their animals properly (right before they kill it and we plop it on our plates), and are not stuffing them full of hormones and antibiotics. That meat is more expensive. But cutting out the amount of meat we eat, we would better be able to afford the meat that is locally grown and is good for us. That seems a good trade.

So, while I have no desire to go vegetarian, I’m hoping to plan more meals for my family that contain whole grains and beans, lots more veggies and fruits, and stick more to the animal flesh that can’t be classified as “mystery meat.” I’ll let you know how that goes.

Happy Easter.